The Man I Shouldn’t Want

I sat pressed against the passenger door, my heart hammering so loudly against my ribs that I was certain he could hear it over the low hum of the engine.

I risked a single glance toward him and immediately regretted it.

The streetlights flickered across his profile, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the slow, rhythmic movement of his throat as he swallowed. He looked so composed, so entirely in control, while I was falling apart at the seams. I jerked my head back toward the window, watching the blurred trees, trying to force my breathing to slow down.

Just then I saw the turn-off. My stomach dropped.

"This isn't the way to my house," I said, my voice coming out small and cracked.

"Silas, where are you going?"

"You're staying at my place tonight," he answered, his voice calm, eyes never leaving the road. "Jax won't be home. He called to say he was staying at a hotel near the border for 'Pack business.' There’s no point in you sitting in that empty house alone."

My eyes burned with fresh tears, but I squeezed them shut, refusing to let him see me break. It was a sick irony that his father was the one picking up the pieces while his son was busy destroying me…busy screwing my sister.

"Why were you drinking like that, Elara?" he asked, his tone shifting into that quiet, probing depth. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened," I snapped, the lie tasting like ash. "I just wanted a drink. Is that a crime now?"

I couldn't tell him. How do you tell a man like Silas Vane that his pride and joy—his heir—was currently rutting my sister? I couldn't bear the pity or the rage it would cause.

Silas gripped the wheel tighter. "You're a terrible liar. But fine. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

The car slowed, as we pulled into his long, gated driveway. He killed the engine and stepped out, rounding the car before I could even touch the handle. He opened my door and reached for my hand, but I pulled back, tucking my arms against my chest.

"I can walk on my own," I muttered, stumbling as I tried to step onto the gravel.

He let out a deep growl, as he caught my arm, his fingers biting into my skin with possessive heat. "You've had half a bottle of whiskey and you're wearing four-inch heels. Stop being difficult."

"And you're being an overbearing asshole," I hissed, looking up at him.

"Where’s your wife, Silas? Shouldn't she be the one welcoming guests?" I asked, suddenly realizing the house seemed to quiet.

"She’s at her sister's estate in the North. She won't be back tonight."

My heart jumped.

Alone.

We were completely alone in this massive, silent house. Panic flared in my throat as he led me inside, but I was too drunk and too tired to fight him as he helped me in.

My hormones were running wild from how close we were. I tried to pull away to find the guest wing, but I turned too fast and stumbled backwards, my ankle gave way with a sickening pop.

"Ah!" I gasped, my world tilting, waiting for the ground to swallow me whole.

Silas caught me from behind before I hit the floor. His chest was a solid wall against my back, his scent wrapping around me like a velvet shroud.

It wrecked my senses. Before I could protest, he scooped me into his arms, carrying me up the grand staircase.

"Put me down, I’m fine!"

He ignored me, but he didn't head for the guest rooms. He kicked open the double doors to the master suite—his bedroom. He set me down on the edge of the massive, dark-clothed bed.

"Stay put," he commanded. "I’m getting ice."

He returned minutes later, kneeling between my legs as he pressed a cold pack to my swollen ankle. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of unwanted electricity shooting up my thighs. I hated how my body reacted to him. I hated that while my heart was shattered, my skin was screaming for his touch.

"Woyld you tell me why were you crying now?" he asked softly this time, his eyes finally meeting mine. "Did my son hurt you?"

"No," I lied again, my voice trembling. "It’s... it's just a misunderstanding. Nothing we can’t fix."

Silas paused, his thumb brushing against my skin just above the ice pack.

"Is someone who makes you cry that much really worth fixing, Elara?" The question cut through me, exposing the raw wound underneath.

He stood up abruptly and walked into the ensuite bathroom. I heard the shower start and let out a sigh instinctively, my mind wondering to Jax.

Only Gracias knows how long they'd been together, I was the fool who was sick about being loyal. I could have fucked his father months after we married.

Jax had my sister and I was sure, they were together right now, laughing at me, betraying the bond.

If Jax could betray our wedding vows, then I could. I wasn't gonna sit idle. I was fulfilling my desires.

I wanted revenge.

If they wanted to destroy everything I loved, I would burn the whole world down with me.

The bathroom door clicked open and Silas walked back out, he was only half-dressed in a pair of low-slung grey sweats. His hair was dripping wet, water tracking down the hard ridges of his abs and disappearing into the waistband of his pants. He looked overwhelming. He looked like the answer to a question I wasn't supposed to ask.

I stood up, ignoring the throb in my ankle, and walked toward him. I didn't stop until I was inches from his chest. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I traced the damp hair on his chest.

"Elara," he warned, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You’re drunk. If you don't want to drive me insane and make me lose control…Stop now."

He didn't move away. He didn't push my hand back. The silence in the room was his permission.

I looked up at him, my eyes hard and desperate. "Make me forget, Silas." I mumbled, pressing my lips against his.

The restraint he’d held for years snapped.

He lunged, his mouth crashing onto mine not with tenderness, but with a starving, violent hunger. He pinned me against the wall, his hands roaming my body with a claim that was absolute.

I let out a broken whimper, my hands tangling in his damp hair, pulling him closer until there wasn't a sliver of space left between us.

He groaned. In one swift motion, he spun me around and slammed my back against the cold stone wall. The shock of the cold against my skin made my back arch, and he took advantage, pinning my wrists above my head with a single, massive hand.

"You have no idea what you're asking for," he rasped against my skin, his breath hot as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He bit down on the sensitive cord of my throat—not enough to bleed, but enough to mark me, to claim me.

My head fell back, a sob of pure, unadulterated want escaping me.

He reached down, his free hand bunching the fabric of my dress, sliding it up until he found the silk of my lace panties. His fingers were calloused and rough as he smacked me down there before rubbing my clitoris roughly, I nearly buckled.

I was already slick, already aching, my body betraying Jax’s memory with every pulse of my heart.

“You don't know how long have waited for this" His hand moved to the rope of my dress, gently undoing it as he slid my dress off me, leaving me in my bra and my panties.

He stripped me bare of my panties with a frantic, controlled energy, his eyes never leaving mine.

I grabbed the hem of his sweatpants and tried helping him take it off and soon, we were both completely naked.

He hoisted my legs around his waist, the friction of his skin against mine sending white-hot sparks through my nervous system.

"Look at me, Elara," he commanded, his voice a dark authority that I couldn't help but obey. "I want you to know exactly who is inside you. Say my name."

"Silas," I breathed, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

He growled again, surging into me then, a deep, punishing thrust that filled the emptiness in my soul with a blinding, heavy heat. I gasped, my eyes widening as the sheer size and power of him stretched me to my limit. It was intense, bordering on painful, but it was exactly what I needed—a sensation so overwhelming that it burned the pictures of Jax and Mia right out of my brain.

He began to move, his pace slow at first but soon he was moving so fast I was shaking with each thrust and screaming his name at the top of my lungs.

“Si..lass"

“Yeah..moan my name little pet"

I felt myself shattering, my climax building like a storm as I felt my release gushing out of me, screaming his name into the curve of his neck. He followed me over the edge, his body tensing as he poured himself into me with a low, guttural roar.

"You chose this," he rasped, his voice thick with a dark, possessive triumph as he held me tight against him, his heart thundering against mine. "Don't you ever forget it. You’re mine now. Not his. Mine."

He gently laid me on the bed before sliding next to me, I grabbed onto the sheet, trying to steady my still trembling body.

The overwhelming power of exhaustion hit me soon as I felt myself began to slip into a dark sleep.

Suddenly, I felt him lean over me, his lips brushing my temple.

"Forgive me, Elara," he whispered, his voice a haunting mix of confession and regret. "But this was the only way I could lure you into my arms."