Page 97 of Whispers of Helena
I release a wicked chuckle, gripping her hips tighter, sinking in deeper. “Not sure, love. But now that I know you like it? Fuck, be ready.”
My pace quickens, her body rising to meet each thrust, perfectly in sync. My muscles tighten. “I’m close,” I grit out. “This tight little ass has me so fucking close.”
Her voice is a breathy plea. “Come for me, Silas.”
Four more thrusts and I’m there. A growl rumbles in my chest as pleasure crashes through me, my vision going hazy as I spill inside her, filling her completely. Just when I think I’m coming down, I hear her moans come louder, and she pulses around me, heightening my sensitivity.
I ease out of her slowly, watching as she stays open where I once was, her body relaxed, spent. Her breath comes in heavy waves, her skin slick with sweat, just like mine.
“Let’s go shower, love.” I move from the mattress, scooping her into my arms, carrying her toward the bathroom.
She grins sleepily, her arms draping around my neck. “You’ve made a mess of me, Mr. Hayes.”
I press a kiss to her damp temple, smirking against her skin. “If I have my way, you’ll never be anything but ruined for me for the rest of time.”
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Helena
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.
Ruth 1:17
The soft clickof the bedroom door jolts me awake. My breath catches, my body already bracing for the worst. I turn my head toward the clock. 11:57 PM.
I sit up, the soreness in my body protesting, and reach out finding Silas’s side of the bed empty. My eyes scan the room. His clothes, once draped over the chair, are gone.
No. Not again.
I shove the covers off, my heart pounding in my throat. It’s been over a month since he’s disappeared like this. Since I thought I’d pulled him back from whatever dark place had been calling him.
Maybe seeing Bennett the other night stirred it all back up. Maybe the offer for the land was just too much. Either way, I know one thing: he has to be stopped.
Slipping from bed, I yank on my pants and shirt, my fingersclumsy in my urgency. At the back door, I pull on my boots, careful to move as quietly and quickly as I can.
A shadow shifts in the hallway.
“Caroline.” My name slips out on his whisper. Eli steps forward, jaw tight. “He left again, didn’t he?”
I walk to the pantry, rummaging through the shelves. “Eli, where did you put that canister of salt?”
“It’s behind the box with the tablecloths.”
I grab the step ladder and climb up, reaching behind the cardboard box. My hand feels around until it makes contact with what I need. I step down, rushing to the drawer by the stove. Grabbing two latex gloves, I tuck them in my pocket.
“I see what you’re preparing for Caroline.”
“I need to be ready.” I exhale sharply, my frustration mixing with fear. “Eli, why won’t he let this die? I know Bennett wants the land, but?—”
“Bennett set the fire.”
The words knock the air from my lungs. My stomach knots, my skin prickling with ice.
No.
I stare at him, my breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. “What? Ruth told me he was after the land. She never said anything about the fire.”
Eli doesn’t blink. “It wasn’t an accident, Caroline. It was Bennett.”
