Page 42 of Silent as Sin
My heart kicked up. I hadn’t wanted something like that in years. Not since before Venom. Wanting had been ripped from me. Punished. But now… now it lived again, burning low in my stomach.
Before I could think, I shifted in his hold. My nose brushed his jaw. His breathing changed, sharp now. Awake.
“Ashen…” My voice rasped, rough from silence.
His eyes opened, locking on mine.
I froze. Then he leaned in—just a fraction closer. Warm breath fanned across my mouth.
I didn’t think. Didn’t plan. I closed the last inch myself.
The kiss was nothing like I remembered. Not rushed. Not forced. Just careful. His lips ready, waiting for me to decide.
My fists stayed tight in the blanket. But I didn’t pull away. I pressed in, just enough to fit my mouth to his.
And for that heartbeat, the world wasn’t fear.
It was him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I’D BEEN AWAKEfor a while. Hard to miss theway her body went still against mine, how her breathing shifted. Wren thought she was subtle, watching me like I wouldn’t notice. But I’d spent too many years waking to knives in the dark. A woman’s eyes on me? I felt it.
I kept still anyway. Let her think I was out cold. Because whatever she was working up to, she needed it to be hers. Not something I pushed on her, not something I demanded. Venom had taken enough of her choices. I wasn’t about to take this one.
Her back pressed closer, tentative at first, then like she was testing how far she could go. My arm tightened around her waiston instinct, my hand resting just under her ribs. Christ, she fit there too well. My chest ached with it.
Then she whispered my name. Soft, rough, like it burned coming out of her throat.
It damn near broke me.
I let my eyes crack open, caught her staring at me with that wide, desperate look. For a beat I didn’t move. I wanted to make sure this was real, not some nightmare bleeding through the cracks.
And then she leaned in. Slow. Careful. Like every inch was a mile she’d never thought she’d cross again. Her lips brushed mine, feather-light, and that was it. Every line I’d drawn for myself snapped.
Her kiss wasn’t polished. It wasn’t practiced. It was raw. Shaking. Brave as hell. And it felt like the first honest thing I’d been given in years.
I didn’t drag her closer. Didn’t let myself take. My hand stayed steady at her waist, holding her like she might bolt if I pushed too hard. I let her set the pace, her lips pressing in, testing, learning.
Fuck, she tasted like fear and fire and something sweeter buried underneath. My blood lit up with it, heat rolling through me so strong I had to lock every muscle tight not to devour her whole.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were huge, chest rising fast under the blanket. She looked terrified—of me, of herself, of what she’d just done.
I brought my thumb up slow, rough skin against the soft line of her cheek. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of me, Wren.” The words scraped out low, like gravel, but I meant every one. “You take what you need without fear.”
She didn’t answer, but she didn’t look away either. No flinch. No retreat. That alone carved deep in my chest.
I wanted more. Wanted it bad enough my jaw locked. But I wasn’t about to steal another inch from her. So I pulled back before I broke my own rule, before I gave in to the urge to kiss her again until the world burned down around us.
“I’m gonna grab a shower,” I murmured, my thumb rubbing her cheek, before my feet hit the floor, the bed creaking as I stood. “Meet me in the kitchen in twenty.”
Her fingers tightened in the blanket, knuckles white, but she gave a small nod. Enough to tell me she heard.
The door clicked shut behind me, loud in the quiet hall. The clubhouse noise hit harder out here, men laughing, a bike revving outside. Ordinary shit. But I wasn’t the same man I’d been when I walked into that room last night.
She’d kissed me.
Not out of fear. Not because she was told to,but because she wanted to, and I’d be damned if I let anyone take that away from her.
