Page 62 of Whispers of Helena
Song of Solomon 1:4
This is my Silas.Stripped bare before me. His chest rising and falling in measured restraint, his eyes searching mine, his touch both hesitant and aching with intent. This is the man I have craved, the man whose absence left an ache deep in my soul. And now, he is here. Real. Tangible. Mine to hold.
“You’re so beautiful, Helena.” His voice is thick with admiration, the words settling over me like a promise. His fingers thread into my hair, drawing me closer. The moment our skin meets, something within me ignites—it’s a deep, consuming need to feel every part of him, to know his body again.
I press my lips to his, my palm tracing the commanding line of his jaw. His grip tightens in my hair, and between us, I feel him shudder, his cock hard against my stomach. I pull back, letting aknowing smile curl my lips before I shift onto the bed, my head sinking into what was once my pillow.
“Come here, Mr. Hayes.” My legs part, inviting him into the space that has always been his.
He exhales a shaky, disbelieving sound that trembles through him as he settles between my thighs. His body molds against mine like he was carved to fit here, skin against skin, heat against heat. My hands roam over him, fingers mapping out every firm muscle, every taut line, every piece of him I have longed to touch again. It feels like a desperate reacquaintance, a lustful reclaiming.
My palm drifts lower, gliding over the ridges of his abdomen before finally wrapping around his cock. His breath stutters, hips jerking into my touch, seeking more, surrendering to the slow strokes of my hand.
His nose skims the stretch of my neck, inhaling deeply before his lips brush the sensitive skin. His voice is rough, almost painful. “If you keep touching me like this, dove, I can’t promise I’ll last.”
I tip my head back, lips parting, an offering. “I want you inside me, Silas.”
A ragged groan rumbles through him as he pulls back, his cock slipping from my grip. His fingers find me, slipping through my center, teasing before sinking one inside with an aching slowness. My body responds instantly, my back bowing off the mattress, a sharp gasp spilling from my lips.
“Fuck, Helena. So wet already.” He watches me, transfixed, as his finger moves in and out, tormenting me with its measured pace. “Is all of this for me?”
I nod, voice trembling. “It’s yours, Silas. Claim it.Please.”
His eyes darken, jaw clenching. “I can’t deny you when you say please like that.”
Leaning over me, he presses a drawn-out kiss to my temple, his breath warm and uneven. His forehead rests against mine, his muscles drawn so tight I can feel his restraint vibrating through him. “Fuck, dove. What have you done to me?”
He grips himself, dragging the thick head of his cock along myentrance, teasing, torturing, driving me crazy. Each pass grazes my clit, sending shocks of pleasure through my shaking frame.
I clutch his shoulders, nails digging into the hard muscle. And on the next slow, tantalizing pass, I lift my hips, guiding him in, and he slams inside me.
My cry catches in my throat as my body stretches to take him, the delicious burn making my fingers curl into his skin. I bite down on the soft flesh of my arm, desperate to muffle the sound threatening to break free.
When my eyes open, his body has gone still, rigid, eyes filled with fear and confusion. He retreats to the end of the bed and my name is a whisper on his lips.
“C-Caroline?”
Revealed
Silas
A chill seepsinto my bones, turning my skin ice cold.
“Silas?”
My name falls from her lips, tentative and barely there. She sits up, reaching for me, but I stumble off the mattress, my feet hitting the floor with too much force. The room tilts. My chest is too tight. I can’t fucking breathe.
“Who the fuck are you?”
She flinches as if I’ve struck her.
“It’s me, Silas. It’s me.”
Her voice cracks. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and God, they’rehereyes. That same luminous brown, flecked with gold, the ones that used to watch me with love, with fire, with understanding.
No. No, this is impossible.
“I don’t believe you.” My own voice sounds foreign. “How the fuck?—”
