Page 134 of At the Mercy of Midnight
He increased his pace, his free hand dropping to roughly grasp her thigh and pull her leg up to sit around his hip, allowing him to push his fingers deeper.
She let out a strangled noise that washed over him. He watched, spellbound by every tiny pant and flutter of her eyelids, before he adjusted the angle of his fingers, finding a different spot to drag against. Amelia gasped loudly, and he fervently pressed his mouth against hers, drowning the sound with his own lips, almost tasting her desperate pleasure in the kiss. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.
Silas pulled back, his own chest heaving.
Amelia’s brows were drawn furiously together, mouth open as she sucked in tiny, shuddering breaths. He could feel it, how her hips jerked just a little more frantically, how she was starting to contract around his fingers.
Her eyes were hazy but locked on his as he watched her hungrily.
“I want to hear it, Amelia,” he ground out. “Don’t hold back, do you hear me? I want to hear every fucking second of it.”
She shattered before him, mouth opening on an erratic moan, eyes falling shut, his fingers constricted as she clamped around him with the force of her climax. She breathed roughly, and he soaked in each lingering noise, each tremble that rocked through her body, each pulse of the orgasm he could still feel.
When her eyes finally opened, looking up at him with a distinct blissful haziness, Silas slowly removed himself from her before gripping at her waist, keeping her gaze intently.
“So beautiful,” Silas murmured to her, his heart hammering against his ribcage.
“Oh,” she panted, hands fluttering to rest on his chest. “I’ve never…it’s never been like that before.”
He raised a brow, unable to hold back his small smirk. “No?”
She shook her head, whispering, “no.”
“Mm,” Silas hummed, leaning forwards to press his lips softly against hers again. “Well.” Another kiss. “Did you know.” A soft press of his mouth against the curve of her cheek. “That was only the beginning?”
“Oh?” she breathed, and then yelped softly when he took her on either side of her waist and lifted her against him until both of her legs wrapped around his hips. Her arms came around his neck as Silas carried her back to the couch before the fire.
He set her down on the rickety thing before kneeling in front of her. Amelia watched him, the firelight glowing against her skin while something else seemed to glow from within her. He ran his hands up the soft skin of her thighs, gazing into her dark eyes.
“But,” he said, taking a hand from her leg to reach for a blanket draped across the arm of the couch and pulling it to cover her legs, “we won’t be doing that tonight.”
Her brows pulled together with confusion. “What do you mean?”
Silas stood and walked over to where he had dropped his blanket and took it, draping it back around his shoulders before turning around. Amelia was watching him over the back of the couch, an openness on her face that he knew was difficult for her.
He walked quietly back to her, the cushion sinking beneath his weight. Silas turned his head, holding her gaze. He patted his lap. Amelia blinked at him for a long moment, before she gently lay down, resting her head across his blanket-covered legs. Silas lifted her blanket, so it covered her, keeping her warm.
He sifted his fingers through the soft tendrils of her hair, feeling a contentedness that he didn’t think he had been capable of before her. He sighed softly.
“I want to be with you, in all the ways that matter,” Silas said quietly, moving his fingers against the hair at her temple. “But it would hold a weight to it, in light of what’s coming, that I don’t want it to hold.”
She turned her head, looking up to him. Her eyes seemed shadowed, a depth of sadness creeping into them.
He cleared his throat. “When…ifwe figure this out, and we get out of it...” Silas blew out a long breath before he smirked down to her. “You would be hard pressed to keep my hands off of you, believe me.”
She sighed through her nose. “Wewillfigure this out.”
He nodded his head slightly, though the feeling seeping into his gut didn’t agree.
Amelia was clearly exhausted. After a few more strokes across her hair, her eyes fluttered closed. A few more minutes passed, her breaths evening out, and she was asleep.
Silas watched her, so peaceful in slumber, until he felt his own eyes grow heavy. He wanted to believe her, to believe there was a way out for him, that he might have this, her, with him every night for a long time to come.
He just didn’t how that would be possible.
Hope and will didn’t change fate.
As far as he knew, nothing did.
