Page 43 of Whispers of Helena
Belt
Helena
Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
Song of Solomon 4:4
I part my lips,and Silas takes me, devouring me like a man starved. The force of it is a collision, his urgency crashing into the fragile barriers I barely knew I was holding. My body rebels against the breakneck pace, but it’s a war I have no intention of winning. I give in, surrendering to the flood of his touch, his need.
His breath, hot and ragged, mingles with mine, and the heat of him pulls me deeper. The smell of him, earth and sweat and something completely his, clouds my senses, while the taste of his mouth ignites every nerve ending. My thoughts scatter, leaving only him.
My fingers brush the roughness of his beard, savoring the feel of him under my hands. I cradle his jaw, trying to slow him, to ground the electricity growing between us. My touch must reach him because the storm raging in his movements softens, his lipsyielding to my silent plea. His arms slide around me, strong and sure, pulling me into the shelter of his embrace.
The shift sends me spiraling; I’m utterly weightless, and the rest of me burns with renewed intensity. My body buzzes, and my chest tightens, alive with the sensation of him. This…this side of him has haunted my dreams and lived in the depths of my longing.
His lips part from mine just enough for his teeth to graze my bottom lip. I gasp, leaning into him instinctively, my lips chasing his.
“Helena—”
“Say my name again, Silas.” I don’t dare open my eyes; I don't want him to stop.
His hand comes to my throat, wrapping around it, dismissing my request. My heart pounds in rhythm with his and my eyes open. “I feel your heartbeat, little dove. It feels as out of control as I feel inside right now.” His eyes drop to his hand then to my chest. “Do you know how it feels to control the beat of someone’s heart?”
The fire in his eyes is overwhelming. “No.”
His grip tightens and my chin tips up. “It’s power, it’s ownership. To know you can manipulate someone’s breath means you control them.” His hand loosens, and he runs his flat palm down to the top of my breast. “Do you know how much you consume my thoughts, Helena?”
“No,” I breathe. “Tell me, Silas.” His name is a plea as I lean forward, pressing my lips to the curve of his neck. I know this place. The spot just at the base of his jaw that makes him lose all sense. My tongue slides over the taut skin, tasting the salt of his skin, and for the briefest moment, he tips his head back, granting me access.
But then his hands clamp around my arms, turning me roughly and pressing me against the splintered wood of the stall. The air leaves my lungs, replaced by the feeling of him as his chest heaves against my back, the press of his dick against my dress undeniable.
“I’m not sure you want to know, little dove.”
“Please,” I beg, my voice raw and stripped of all pride.
The tension shifts as the metallic jingle of his belt pierces the charged air around us. Panic and longing twist together, stealing my breath. My pulse spikes dangerously, heat pooling low and heady. God, I both fear and crave what he’ll do next.
The belt slides free with a sharp snap. Every thrum of my heart echoes in my ears. But before the sound of his zipper follows, warm leather glides across my skin, coiling around my throat. Its weight sends a shiver down my spine, fear flickering and then dissolving into something deeper, darker. With smooth precision, he threads the strap through the buckle and pulls it taut, the soft press against my throat igniting a heat between my thighs, leaving want in its wake.
He leans in, his breath hot against my ear, his words like a brand. “You, Helena, consume my every waking thought. When I close my eyes, you’re all I see. When I try to breathe, you choke the air from my lungs.” His voice is rough, edged with raw need as he pulls on the strap again, the firm pressure arching my body against him, rendering me utterly his.
“Do you feel that?” he asks, his tone dropping. “Feel your lungs straining, your heart racing?” His body presses against mine, his arousal a hard promise at the base of my spine. A soft, involuntary sound escapes his lips, grazing the edge of restraint, and the response it draws from me is primal. My clit pulses with every word, every shift of his body.
“That,” he murmurs, voice trembling with something perilously close to desperation, “is how I’ve felt since the moment you set foot on my land. Every breath stolen, every thought consumed. That’s the mess you’ve made of me, Helena.”
I swallow hard, forcing the gathering saliva in my mouth to pass the tightened belt. “I feel it.”
With my words, the belt loosens, and he slides it from the column of my throat. His hands slam against the wall beside my head. I stare at it, just inches away. “The only thing holding me back right now, little dove, is the fact that you work for me. Butonce that line is gone, I can’t promise I’ll be a good man any longer.”
“You want me to quit?”
“I have no say in what you do, Helena.”
He’s given me the choice. “And what happens if I quit? Will you fuck me and send me off?”
His nose runs along the tip of my ear, down to where he places his lips at the corner of my jaw. A dark laugh leaves him before he whispers, “I don’t just fuck, Helena. I don’t use things and throw them away.” He removes his hand from the wall, then brushes the hair back from my shoulder, his fingertips dancing lazily down my neck. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I take care of what is mine. I protect and keep what is mine.”
His fingers trace a path over my shoulder and down my arm. “And with the thoughts I’ve had of you, little dove, one simple fuck would never satisfy me.” He grips my hips with a possessive strength that pushes a moan past my lips. “So when you’re ready, leave your God behind and come to me.”
