SINS IN SILENCE

SERA

His mouth crashed into mine.

There was no teasing, no slow burn, just raw, blistering need. The kiss was greedy and consuming.

His lips parted mine like a storm breaking open, his tongue sweeping in like he’d been starving for this taste… for me.

I moaned against him, helpless, my hands scrambling up his chest to clutch his shoulders. Every hard line of his body pressed into mine, his muscles taut, and his skin hot.

His hand gripped my hip, yanking me closer until I was flush against the thick, throbbing length I’d barely been able to stop staring at.

My water bottle hit the tile with a dull thud. Neither of us noticed.

He tasted like wine and danger. Like everything I shouldn’t want.

And God, I wanted him.

But then, reason, panic, shame, and some sliver of it surfaced.

I tore my mouth from his and slapped him. Hard.

The crack echoed in the quiet kitchen.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t blink. He just stood there, chest rising and falling, his cheek reddened and his eyes never leaving mine.

There was no anger in them. Just intensity. Hunger.

And something else daring me.

Daring me to walk away.

Daring me to pretend I didn’t want this.

But I couldn’t.

I stared at him, breath catching, chest heaving beneath the thin silk of my nightdress. I could still taste him. Still feel his hands. I should have walked. I should have screamed. I should have done something.

Instead—

I grabbed him.

My hands fisted in the back of his neck and I dragged his mouth back to mine.

His groan was low, guttural, and this time, he didn’t hold back. His tongue plunged deep, tasting me like he owned me, like he had every right.

Then, his grip changed.

Rougher. Needier.

He grabbed my hips, yanking me forward until my body collided with his, and I felt it, his cock, hard and thick, straining against the fabric of his briefs. He ground against me, deliberately, like a man letting me know exactly what he was working with.

My thighs clenched. My breath hitched.

How big is he?

And then, he ripped the robe off my shoulders, letting it fall in a soft whisper to the floor.

I stood there in just the slip of my silk nightdress which was strapless, barely-there, heat slicking my thighs beneath it. My nipples poked shamelessly through the fabric, betraying how badly I wanted to be touched.

Kissed.

Fucked

“Fuck,” he murmured, voice rough as gravel as he dragged his eyes down my body like he was starving. “Look at you.”

His hand came up, fingers brushing the peak of one breast through the silk. I gasped, knees threatening to buckle, my back arching without permission, silently begging.

“You’re dripping, aren’t you?” he whispered against my neck, dragging his mouth along the sensitive skin. “All that teasing. All that waiting. He’s not giving it to you, is he? Not like you need it. Not like you deserve it.”

I gasped.

“Knox—”

He dipped his head. His mouth closed over my nipple through the fabric first, sucking hard, wet and messy. I cried out, one hand gripping his hair, the other grabbing the counter behind me.

Then, he tugged the strap of the nightdress down slowly, revealing one breast, then the other.

He pulled back, just enough to look down at me, eyes glazed, lips swollen.

“Beautiful,” he growled. “Fucking perfect.”

His words went straight to my core. I could feel my juices running down my thigh already.

Then he closed his mouth over me again, bare now, no barrier with his tongue circling, teeth grazing, sucking hard enough to make my head tilt back with a moan.

“Oh my—” I choked.

His tongue flicked, circled, then he sucked slow, deep, greedy pulls that made me pant, made my hands claw at his scalp. I could barely stand.

My legs shook.

“You taste amazing,” he growled, lifting his head just enough to meet my gaze. His lips were wet. His eyes were wild like a man losing the last threads of restraint.

And then, with a rough groan, his mouth was on me again, biting, tugging, licking in a rhythm that made me shiver. My head fell back, a moan breaking free.

“Knox…”

I couldn’t help it. I loved the way he was touching me, the way he was speaking to me in that low, filthy voice laced with something deeper, something almost tender.

The spontaneity of it, the recklessness, made it all feel even more addictive.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t second guess. He just wanted me. Wanted this.

And God… I wanted it, too.

He pulled back, his gaze locked on mine as he slowly dropped to his knees in front of me. His hands slid under the hem of my nightdress, his palms hot against my thighs, coaxing them open.

“No panties?” His smirk was pure sin. “Did you touch yourself for me? Jared couldn’t scratch the itch I left, could he?”

My breath caught in my throat at how accurate he was.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips right where I was throbbing. The contact was featherlight, and teasing, but the heat of it made me tremble.

His fingers followed next, slow at first, exploring. Possessive. My hips bucked on it’s own, a sharp gasp escaping my lips.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, voice ragged. “You want this so bad, don’t you? You’re shaking for me.”

I was. My knees were barely holding me up.

He groaned, pulling his fingers away just long enough to lift them to his mouth and lick them clean, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck, that tastes so good,” he rasped.

Then, without warning, he lifted one of my legs and hooked it over his shoulder. His grip was sure and strong, grounding me just as his mouth returned hungrier now, and more urgent.

One flick of his tongue and I nearly screamed, a strangled sound muffled behind the hand I slapped over my mouth.

He devoured me like a man starved.

His tongue didn’t just move, it commanded.

Every flick, every swirl, every deep, sensual drag across my most sensitive spot was orchestrated with the kind of precision that made me forget my name.

He feasted, shamelessly, hungrily, the wet sounds of his mouth on me obscene in the quiet of the night. I could feel everything, his tongue flicking, flattening, circling.

He licked me with long, hot strokes before latching on to my engorged slit and sucking hard.

I arched against him, panting, gasping, my body rocking as I clutched the edge of the counter for dear life.

“God—Knox—” I gasped, fingers tangling in his thick, unruly hair. “Please…”

I didn’t even know what I was begging for. Release? Relief? More?

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow.

His growl vibrated against my core, and he doubled down. Fingers, two at once, sliding inside me, curling with a precision that made my spine bow.

My legs shook violently as I bit down on my lips to muffle another moan. I was soaked and shameless and riding his face without even realizing it.

He paused just long enough to look up at me, his mouth slick, his eyes savage.

“You like that?” he rasped, fingers stroking inside me slowly now, torturously deep.

“Yes,” I breathed, nodding, helpless.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I love it,” I moaned, thighs trembling. “Knox, please-don’t stop. Don’t-”

He didn’t. He couldn’t have even if I’d meant it. He went back at me with the same greedy hunger, but harder this time, mouth and hand in perfect rhythm.

Then he slid his free hand to my ass, gripped it hard, and yanked me closer to his mouth like he wanted to devour me whole.

“You taste better than anything I’ve ever had,” he murmured darkly, in between flicks of his tongue, voice muffled by my body, sent vibrations straight through my core. “Better than sin. Better than heaven. Fuck, Sera…”

My name on his lips made me shake.

I was panting, grinding against his mouth now, my body out of my own control. His teeth grazed my clit and I cried out. He licked it better. Then sucked again.

I nearly shrieked.

“I c-can’t take—” I choked out.

“You can,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look up at me. His mouth was glistening, his eyes dark and greedy. “You will. You’re going to come for me, baby. You’ve been aching for it, haven’t you?”

I whimpered, nodding frantically, too far gone to be embarrassed.

“Say it.” His voice was low, coaxing, deliciously sinful. “Tell me what you want.”

“I—I want—” I gasped as he curled his fingers again. “I want you to make me cum. Please, Knox… don’t stop.”

A dark smile curved his lips.

“Good girl.”

He buried his face between my thighs again, tongue moving faster now, more wicked, more relentless. His hand held my thigh over his shoulder, keeping me wide open, vulnerable. His other hand didn’t let up either, stroking me deep, fast, perfect.

My head fell back. My moans grew louder. I barely heard myself, barely cared.

I was unraveling.

“I’m gonna—” I warned, voice cracking. “Knox, I’m gonna—”

Cunm?” he growled into me, every syllable a shockwave. “Let go for me. On my tongue. I want to taste every bit of you. I want to drink you.”

And that was it.

I shattered with a loud, strangled cry, slapping my hand too late over my mouth, grinding down on his mouth as the orgasm ripped through me, hard and wild and endless.

My legs buckled, my body convulsing as I came, and came, and kept coming.

He stayed right there, taking it all, tongue working me through every last aftershock, lips locked to me like he could never get enough.

By the time he pulled back, licking his lips and his fingers, my juices from his skin with a slow, filthy grin tugged at the corners of his lips, I was a gasping, ruined, slick, pulsing mess.

What the hell did I just do?