Silent Night By Temptation Novels & Stories

And the road became quiet again. I stood there breathing heavily, my palms sweating. My entire body felt cold. I looked down at my trembling hands in horror. What had I done? What in God's name had I just done?

" Shane closed his eyes in pain. His head hung low, and his voice was hoarse. "I know it's all my fault. "I just hope I can stay by your side. "I don't mind being treated like a stranger. I'll just watch over you two in silence." I said nothing. After turning around, I walked to the window and watched the sky gradually turn dark. "Leave, and don't come back." Shane stood frozen there for a long moment. Only when I repeated my dismissal did he stagger away. His silhouette with the scenery of sunset behind him looked lonely and desolate.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the high-ceilinged room, a wet, frantic percussion that made my gorge rise to the back of my throat. ​Sienna wasn’t screaming for me. She wasn't reaching out for her "King." She was chanting Silas’s name in a broken, rhythmic prayer, her fingers digging deep, red furrows into his back as he thrust into her with a depth that seemed meant to claim her very marrow. Her breasts were heaving and jiggling with every impact, her pale skin slick with a mixture of sweat and the dark red wine Silas had spilled in his haste to possess her.

Another heartbeat. Deliberate. Silent. Footsteps. Made of sigils. I didn’t have to call her name. Didn’t have to talk at all. But I did. Just loud enough for the night to carry it, sharp enough to cut through the silence. “She’s coming.”

The sermon I had prepared vanished. "Temptation is not a silent whisper," I began, my voice lower than usual. "It is a loud noise in a quiet room." I stared into space for a moment, my thoughts wandering. "It is the memory of a touch that makes the skin on your arms crawl even in the presence of the Holy Spirit. It is the scent of vanilla in a room full of incense." I gripped the edges of the wooden lectern until my knuckles turned white. The congregation was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Hello darkness, my old friend I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone 'Neath the halo of a street lamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of silence And in the naked light, I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence "Fools", said I,

Bubbles curls beside me, her heartbeat steady against my palm. Somewhere in the distance, I think I hear Silen singing again. It sounds low and mournful, but beautiful. A siren song meant for no one. It drifts through the walls like a promise. And for the first time in days, I sleep.

My lips didn’t move, but my prayer echoed into the blackness: Give me one more chance… Let me remember everything….Let me burn it all down. Then silence. The final silence. But in the stillness, something stirred…Not death. Something else. A second chance.

Rain tapped gently against the railings. The cassette hissed softly between songs. “But I remember feeling less afraid when they were near.” Silence spread warmly through the apartment. No pity. No interruption. Just listening. Because some memories return like frightened animals. Too much noise makes them disappear again. I closed my eyes carefully. And there— buried beneath endless years of loneliness— a melody surfaced. Crooked. Half-forgotten. Soft humming drifting through darkness while shadows curled safely nearby. The first gentle thing I had remembered from before the Silence.

He fucked me through it, still slow, still silent, the wet slide of his cock the only real noise between us. My orgasm came without warning—tight, shaking, almost painful in its intensity because I had to keep it completely quiet. My pussy clenched hard around him in rhythmic pulses. My thighs trembled against his sides. Tears of strain pricked the corners of my eyes. Silas watched my face the entire time, hips still moving in those tiny, deep strokes, drawing the climax out until I was shaking and oversensitive beneath him. He didn’t stop. He kept the same relentless, silent rhythm, chasing his own release while I stayed locked around him, still twitching from the first orgasm. The moonligh