Page 37 of Closer Than You Think
“You feel so good, so fucking good,” he growls, his eyes locked with mine. His cock slams into me with a final, brutal thrust, and he growls out, “Fuck, Hallie, I'm coming.” He pumps my insides with his cum, his body shaking with the force of his release. I feel it filling me up, dripping out of me.
His grip on my hips loosens, and we both slump against the wall, panting and drenched in sweat.
Minutes pass in silence, my head resting on his shoulder, my legs still wrapped around his waist. Silas's heavy breathing slowly evening out.
He pulls me off of the wall, his cock still hard inside me, as he walks us over to the bed and lays me on it.
With a pained look on his face, he pulls out of me, then wraps me in a blanket and kisses my forehead.
He slips out of the room without another word, and I'm left alone in the silence, my thoughts swirling like a tempest. I sink down into the fluffy pillows, my body heavy with fatigue and fear.
But as I look at the door he just closed behind him, I feel a flicker of something else, something I can't quite name. It's a warmth, a sense of safety. Probably just the security system, I think, refusing to give Silas the credit.
And as I drift off to sleep, I can't help but dream of the man who seems to hold my fate in his scarred and callused hands.
Seventeen
Hallie
My eyelids flutter open, and for a moment, the world is just a blur of shadows and light. My head spins as I struggle to anchor myself in the here and now. The bed beneath me feels alien, too plush and expansive to be my own. As clarity edges back into my vision, I take in the dark wood furniture that looms around me, elegant and imposing.
I push myself up, my hands sinking into the softness of the duvet. The cityscape beyond the window captures my gaze—a concrete jungle sprawling under the morning sun, skyscrapers piercing the sky with their glassy spires. My breath catches at the sheer drop below, a reminder that I'm perched high above Alcott City, apparently in Silas Thatcher's world now.
A click of the door, subtle but sharp in the quiet room, draws my attention. Silas steps in, his tall frame outlined against the muted light of the corridor. He pauses, green eyes locking onto mine, and it's as if the air shifts around us.
“Good morning,” he says, his voice a smooth baritone that seems to resonate through the space between us.
“Silas.” His name comes out as a whisper, an acknowledgment of the man who saved me from a threat,apparently—yet also the enigma who frightens me with his intensity.
His lips curve into a smile, softening the hard lines of his face. “I love hearing my name on your lips,” he says, closing the distance between us with measured strides. He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, stroking it as he approaches. Grabbing my head with one hand and guiding himself to my mouth with the other, he pushes into me, slowly fucking my mouth as my eyes widen in surprise. “And I love seeing you here, in my penthouse.”
He’s not rough this time. It’s slow, relaxed, almost as if he’s doing it for comfort more than arousal. The difference between last night and now has me reeling and I can’t help but touch myself at how sexy it all is.
“Mmm,” he moans as he watches my fingers circling my clit. “That’s it, angel. Touch yourself while I use you.”
The way he so casually fucks my face turns me on so much, especially after last night’s intensity. My hips rise up to meet the rhythm of my fingers, and he increases his pace, just the smallest bit.
“That’s it,” he growls, “you love it when I'm in control, don't you? When I use your sweet mouth for my own pleasure?”
I nod, moaning around his cock as he stuffs it down my throat, again and again. My eyes water and my cheeks flush.
“You want to swallow my cum, don’t you, baby? You want me to shoot it down your throat.”
My answer is a muffled vibration around him, and he closes his eyes in pleasure. I can’t take much more, and soon, I’m making myself come, my muscles tensing as I feel the wave of pleasure crash over me.
“Fuck yes,” Silas hisses, as his cock twitches in my mouth. “So close.”
He grabs the back of my head and forces himself down my throat, holding me in place so I can’t move. I choke on him as he calls out my name, and revel in the feeling of his cum shooting down my throat.
“That’s it,” he says, leisurely pumping in and out a few more times before he pulls out of me and zips himself back inside his jeans.
What the fuck just happened and why do I love it so much?
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, standing by the foot of the bed, his posture relaxed yet inherently alert, as if he hadn’t just casually fucked my mouth.
“Considering the circumstances . . . yes,” I admit. My fingers brush over the silk of the sheets, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me.
“Good.” He nods, as though filing away the information. “There’s a lot we need to discuss, but for now . . . ”
