Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club #4) (15 page)

I cried out with pleasure when he moved, and my nails dug into the thick cord of his neck. His thrust was . . .
hard
. And deep. My eyes slammed shut as he buried his cock so far inside it caused my eyes to roll back. It came from my lips dripping with encouragement. “Yes, Silas.
Yes
.”

He drew his lower body back, and then crashed his hips into me. Our moans matched each other’s, just as our panting breaths did afterward. That was when he began to move in earnest. Fucking me like I’d hoped he would. The force of him drove me into the rug and I scored my nails down his smooth back.

There was something wrong with me. I thought I didn’t want anything from him other than the sex, but now I hoped my nails were marking him. Announcing he was mine, just for tonight.

When I’d fallen backward on the rug, the remote for his camera hand been abandoned at my side. At some point between his mind-numbing thrusts, the camera clicked loudly. He’d scooped it up in a hand. My pussy clenched at the thought of the dirty pictures.

“I want copies,” I gasped.

“Do you?” His wicked mouth latched onto my ear, nibbling the lobe. “You want to see what I see?” Confusion must have splashed on my face, because he continued. “You want to see how amazing you look when my cock’s deep inside you?”

Oh, God. I nodded quickly, not able to say it out loud. Not because I was embarrassed, but because it was too difficult to speak.

Our bodies slapped together. Beneath him, I rose up to try to meet his thrusts, perhaps trying to control the rhythm. My legs squeezed, the arch of my feet smoothed up and down his legs, doing anything I could to give me leverage. I didn’t really mind
being
fucked, but what I really wanted was to
do
the fucking.

He reached back, his hand locked on my ankle so he could hold me in place, and his hips undulated against me. Flashes of ecstasy sparked from him, teasing a new orgasm. The wet slide of his dick inside my body was like nothing else.

“God, fuck.” I moaned it into his shoulder.

He was slick with sweat as he pumped into me. I was hot and sweaty as well, and worse, he had me breathing so hard I was lightheaded. Could he tell? Abruptly one hand hooked under my knee and the other scooped under my back, and I was lifted in the air. He shifted me and set me back down so I was sideways to the camera and completely in the shot. He rose so he was sitting on his heels while keeping us connected, and both of his strong arms were under my thighs, holding my lower body up to meet his punishing thrusts.

Click.

I put my hands on my breasts, partly because I wanted the touch, but also because I wanted to make the picture look as good as possible. Never would I have thought I’d be into this, but shit, I was. It was so freaking sexy.

The long hairs on top of his head refused to stay back anymore and fell into his eyes, but it didn’t deter him. His biceps strained. He pounded into my pussy while his grip on my thighs was so hard I wondered if he’d leave marks. Did he want to, as I wanted to mark him?

“Christ, you feel so fucking good,” he growled.

He was a beautiful monster of ink and muscle, and it was impossible not to be transfixed as he fucked me relentlessly. I grabbed one of his hands and guided it to my breast, sighing loudly when he clenched hard. How did he know exactly what I wanted? Matt hadn’t figured it out in all the time I’d been with him, and Silas’s first try was hitting it out of the ballpark.

“Rough enough?” he asked. It wasn’t mocking, his curious expression told me he was serious.

A smile warmed on my lips. “Is it for you? I can give as good as I get.”

Hesitation flashed over him, then dissipated when I pushed up on my hands, forcing myself up. It was so I could band my arms around his shoulders while I straddled his lap. In this position I was on top, and I could fuck him.

Heat and chaos swirled around us, choking the air as I rode his cock. I rocked my hips while he put one hand on my waist, his fingers biting into my skin. He forced my head down into his kiss, snagging my bottom lip between his teeth. Aggressive and with a delicious edge of pain.

I clawed at him. He tugged on my hair. I twisted one of his nipples. He shoved a hand between our bodies and pinched my clit. Every action escalated and pushed us closer to the brink, while his camera captured it all.

“Yeah,” he said. “Ride me.” He slapped a hand against my ass so hard it stung. “Fuck my cock.”

I was dizzy and teetering right on the edge. My head flung back, tendrils of my hair clung to my damp face, and somewhere along the way my legs gave out. I wasn’t in control anymore. He was beneath me, but his powerful legs were dictating the tempo and keeping me moving on him. They kept my stomach sliding against the defined ridges of his washboard abs, my nipples brushing against his hardened chest.

He leaned me back in his arms. His mouth sucked on my tits, alternating from one to the other, and my climax closed in. The moans from me built in urgency until they were desperate cries.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna . . . shit. Oh, shit!” My body tensed in anticipation of the flood of pleasure, and it didn’t disappoint. Everything else faded away until all that was left was ecstasy. It exploded sharply, stealing my breath, and as it rolled down my spine, I quivered.

I’d just finished when he seemed to start. He struggled for breath, and the arms holding me up tightened, and deep inside I felt the rhythmic pulses as he went. I scrambled to find the remote in his hands and click the button as he groaned with satisfaction. His face was wrought with pleasure, and watching him like this . . . all sorts of sexy.

I sealed my lips over his, trying to drink up the last of his moans as I rode out the end of his orgasm.

For a long moment we remained still, our bodies glued together with exhaustion, our lips fused. Then I tipped my head further still, resting my sweaty forehead on the bony part at the top of this shoulder.

Silas’s hand slid gently up and down my bicep, and then I was shifted in his arms, slowly lowered back to the rug. He withdrew from me, peppering kisses along my jawline, working his way to my ear.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

“Where would I go?” I said. “You were right, I’m too tired.”

He laughed softly as he climbed to his feet and padded out of view. My spent body gave me no choice but to lie prone on the fluffy rug in a post-sex haze. I heard water run briefly. He had to be using the utility sink that was on the south wall of the studio.

An alarm blared in my head that I needed to extract myself from the situation ASAP to avoid awkward cuddling, but I promptly hit snooze. There was a snap of a light switch and light spilled from the corner. A creaking sound rang out and grew quieter. He’d gone upstairs to his apartment? I should use the opportunity to collect my clothes and start pulling them on, but everything was working against me. I was starting to get cold and the rug was soft and warm. It was late, and the release of tension had made me incredibly sleepy. I just needed five more minutes.

The creak of the steps grew louder as he returned. A click, and the two lights on poles died. The only light in the room was the one over the stairs leading to his apartment that he’d left on. Silas carried two pillows and the comforter I’d seen on his bed.

It amazed me how quickly I could go from being sweaty and hot, to freakishly cold after a workout, and lying on a floor with only faux fur between the concrete and me wasn’t helping. Silas draped the comforter over my shivering body.

“Thank you.”

“I thought about carrying you upstairs to my bed, but we’d never fit on the stairs.”

“You barely fit on the stairs.”

I took the offered pillow he extended to me and mashed it under my head. It was a damn good thing it’d worked out this way. Getting into his bed was a bad idea. I said nothing as he dropped the other pillow beside me, sat down, and stuck his feet under the covers. He looked like he was preparing to settle in. Would his arm curl around me next? My heartbeat quickened.

With worry.

Not with excitement . . .
Right?

“You forgot to turn off the music,” I said.

“No, I didn’t.” The rock music continued to play in the background. Could he not hear it? My lack of response must have forced him to continue. “I told you, I don’t like the quiet.” He settled down beside me, tugging the comforter up to mid-chest.

“Why?”

He wasn’t touching me, and it was dark, but I could sense the unease in him. This one word was questioning something . . . difficult. His pause was exactly the same I had whenever someone saw my scar and casually asked, “
What’s that from
?”

“It’s stupid,” he said.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Even though I’d shared my most traumatic secret with him, it didn’t require him to do the same. Why the hell did I want him to, though?

I jumped when his body enveloped mine, his warm hand sliding over my stomach beneath the heavy comforter. My breath stalled in my lungs. I wasn’t supposed to allow this. Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to
like
it either.

“My grandparents used to have this giant hand-carved cabinet. The thing was solid. Sometimes my sister and I would take the blankets out of it and play inside.”

There wasn’t any anxiety in his voice, but there didn’t need to be. I could sense exactly where his story was headed.

“I don’t remember what I did to piss Caroline off. That’s my sister.” The pad of his middle finger traced an infinity loop on my bare skin. “Whatever it was, it was bad. To get back at me, she locked me in the cabinet and told everyone I’d gone across the street to a friend’s house to play in their back yard.”

I blew out a breath. “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

I hesitated, not really wanting to know. I didn’t want to think about being trapped in a dark, confined space for any amount of time. “How long were you in there?”

“About six hours, I’m told. It seemed . . . longer.”

“Holy shit. You couldn’t get out? No one could hear you banging or yelling?”
He’d said the cabinet was solid.

“The thing was in the basement. I tried to get out, believe me. I kicked the backboard loose, which was good. That kept the air from going bad.”

I clenched my hand on his, getting him to pause. “Oh my God, you could have died. Did she realize that?”

“Yeah, my father made it plenty clear to her. She probably came closer to dying that day than I did. I’d never seen him so mad.”

Silas’s hand twisted, and suddenly our fingers were laced together. It seemed wrong to move away while he was sharing the story. Hell, it seemed wrong to do anything but listen, as he’d done for me.

“I don’t blame Caroline. She was just a kid too, and kids do stupid things. I probably deserved it.”

My head snapped toward him. “Are you fucking kidding?”

“I was a pretty mean little shit.” His smile was guilty. “Anyway, that’s why I prefer noise. Music, television, whatever. The quiet gets to me.”

He needed anything to convince him he wasn’t trapped in the silence. My gaze left his and went up to the ceiling. “I’m sure.” What was I supposed to follow up with? “What about the dark?”

“We were playing with flashlights. That’s how she got me to go in there.”

I blinked and struggled with the vision of a boy locked inside a thick, wood box, screaming and kicking to no avail, one small beam of light to keep him company. How long had he tried before he’d given up?

“That had to be awful.”

“It wasn’t great. After I realized no one could hear me and I couldn’t get out, I tried to keep busy so I wouldn’t think about it.”

“How’d you do that?”

“I played mental games and shit. Looked for images in the pattern in the woodgrain.”

Jesus. Even now he was looking for images buried in patterns. My heart thudded painfully. It gave all of his artwork deeper meaning. Made it more beautiful, even the patterned tattoo he’d placed on me.

I swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. It was a long time ago.”

When the conversation lapsed, I closed my eyes. What the hell was I doing? It sure as hell wasn’t fair to let him think this could lead to anything. I was undercover, and if he found out, he’d go straight to Joseph and destroy the operation my co-workers and I had spent months on. Plus, I wasn’t going to get involved while UC ever again.

My body felt heavy with sleep, and both the comforter and the thick arm on me were warm. I knew I should go. I shouldn’t have let him snuggle close, hold my hand, or share the painful memory which had shaped his life. Yet, I couldn’t move. His breathing deepened and slowed to a languid pace, and the weight of his arm grew as he fell asleep.

I swore I’d rest just another minute. Let him get deeper under, and then I’d slip away, but one minute became two. Two minutes turned into five, and then it was too late. I gave in to yet another thing I shouldn’t have, and fell asleep.