I’ve replayed my time with Silas this morning on a constant loop today. His flirtatious gestures never faltered, and an added sweetness has me thinking about him differently. His offer to loan me his camera so I could learn photography changed my mind about giving him a chance. I may have stared at the pics I took of him all through my shift. The camera definitely loves him. His blue eyes are hypnotic. I want him to look at me the way he did in those pictures while he eradicates my virtue. He makes me crave things I’ve never even thought about before. Like how would it feel to have my legs wrapped around him while he buries himself deep inside these walls. I know all the reasons we shouldn’t get involved with one another, but I find myself wanting to take the leap anyway. I actually believe his explanation for what I saw with Tory. If the pushy, conniving demeanor from her little visit to warn me away from him is any indication, I’d say she was trying to use oral sex to get her way.
Their history is none of my business, and I don’t want to be the timid girl who constantly gets pushed aside. Silas awakens a fire within me with a single touch, and I want to explore that. If he’s willing to leave Tory alone, then I’m willing to jump. Jump into exploring whatever this chemistry is that burns between us. I’m not looking for anything more than that. It’s time I finally embrace my sexuality, and I want to start with him.
I’ve waged an exhausting war with myself this past week on whether to go through with my plan. Seduction wins the battle over continuing to let the chips fall where they may. I used my debit card for the first time in forever to purchase a pink bikini from the gift shop today. No oversized t-shirts covering my one piece tonight. I need Silas to see me as sexy and desirable. I wish I had more experience in the flirting department, but hey, how hard can it be?
I spend extra time shaving every inch of myself with the razors I bought at the same little gift shop. I pay special attention to my lady parts. Normally, she gets just a little trim, but tonight she gets the bald treatment. I’m not satisfied until I’m smooth all over. When I step out of the shower, I do a little twirl in front of the floor-length mirror behind the door. I want to see what he will see, but I allow a hint of doubt to creep through my fading confidence at the imperfections in my reflection. Hoping for a toner body or the disappearance of the stretch marks on my ass won’t do me any good, so I quickly wrap myself in a towel. Maybe I can insist he leaves the light off. We only need to feel anyway.
The notification ping of my phone has me nearly jumping out of my skin. The pep talk I’m having with myself will have to wait. I rush to my bed to retrieve my phone, knowing it can only be one person. Time is up. Either I push forward with this plan to finally have Silas, or I chicken out like a virginal coward. I use my thumbprint to unlock my phone—allowing procrastination to let the decision linger.
Silas: Are you ready for that swim?
I’m amazed that it is already after eight p.m. Amazed at how long getting ready took for me to feel fuckable.
Me: Yes. I was doing some light reading until I heard from you.
Silas: Light reading, huh? Was it by any chance the binder I left for you?
Until now, we’ve both opted not to bring up the ass spanking book. Our flirtations were strained a bit after the incident with Tory, and although I never took the binder back to him the next day, we both took a minuscule step back. I can’t speak for him, but I needed to re-evaluate how I would proceed with him. I’ll never be willing to be someone’s option. If Tory is who he wanted, then that meant there was no room for me. His explanation of the event seemed likely, but his tenderness this morning is what I needed. I don’t need the fairy tale or the happily ever after; I just want to let go for once. I want to have amazing sex with this hot guy and savor the memories.
Silas: Are you still there?
My phone pings again, and I realize I never answered him.
Me: Yes, I’m here. No, I haven’t had a chance to wade through the ass porn you left for me.
Silas: Ass porn? You kill me with the words you put together. Meet me at our spot in 10 and don’t forget that memory card.
He didn’t elaborate on the binder, and I’m thankful. That thing is a whole other can of worms. Baby steps. One thing at a time. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t taken an itsy-bitsy peek and found myself more than slightly intrigued. Mostly because it was an intimate look at his mind—his world.
Me: See you in 10
I snatch the pink bikini dangling from the armoire and rid it of the price tag. The decision has been made. Like a fork in the road, the bikini represents letting myself enjoy one memorable night with him while the old one piece represents status quo. I slide the barely there fabric onto my body. The halter top pushes my breasts up and together for never-ending cleavage, and I struggle to keep my ass from swallowing up the bottoms. Maybe I should have tried this on before buying. I’m sure this is the way it’s supposed to fit, but I just feel so exposed. My flaws have nowhere to hide. At the last minute, I slide my trusty oversized t-shirt over the bikini before heading out of the door. Baby steps.
Silas is already in the pool swimming laps when I arrive. Just as he flips against the pool edge to head back in my direction, I know I only have seconds to muster the confidence I found earlier. He hasn’t seen me yet. Without hesitation or further thought, I pull the t-shirt off. I’ll just fake it for now. The shirt catches on my bun, unraveling it with my constant pull to get the shirt off. When I manage to stop fussing with the shirt, I see that Silas has not only made it back to this end, but that he’s also witnessed the entire spectacle. His grin tells me he saw it all. My first attempt at seduction is a hot mess right from the start. I should just give up before I make too big of a fool of myself if that’s possible.
He uses the edge of the pool to boost himself out the water, providing a distraction from my own clumsiness. Water drips down his body as he runs his hand through his hair. Every defined muscle begs for my fingers to touch them. The bulge restrained behind those swim trunks begs to be freed and licked. He strolls over to me, and I don’t know where to put my hands. I think about my hips, but that just seems too obvious. I feel awkward as if I’m already trying too hard.
“Nice suit,” Silas says, breaking through my internal meltdown. He walks a circle around me, making no attempt to hide that he is checking me out. And what do I do? I just stand here like an out of my league idiot, waiting for him to judge me. I know my body is a far cry from Tory’s.
“Figured it was time for a new one.” I try to fill the air with useless chatter, wanting him to stop looking so hard.
“If you’re going to show this much skin, sweetheart, you have to own it.”
“It’s just a swimsuit, Silas. I’m sure you’ve seen women in less.” I’m not fooling him one bit. I’m sure my insecurities radiate from me.
“Hmmm, maybe so. None worn quite like this, though.”
He slips a finger between the tie at my hip. One pull and my bottoms would fall off. I don’t move his hand, though. I don’t speak a fucking word. Let him do it. Make my mission easier by doing all the work himself. He’s a breath away from me now, and I can feel his body heat intertwining with mine. A look passes between us of unspoken promises. He removes his finger, and I immediately feel bereft. Is that it? Damn him. I just need to work harder to show him I’m willing.
“Why don’t we skip the swim for now? Let’s head up to my place,” he suggests. Now, he’s talking. I nod, and he leads the way. When we reach the top level, the ambiance is already set. The fire pit is blazing, casting light on what looks like strawberries and champagne on ice. Orange pillows surround the flame. Mr. Lair appears to have his own plan of seduction waiting, and dammit to hell, it’s better than mine is.
“What’s all this?” I ask nonchalantly. “You have a hot date coming after I leave?”
He laughs, and the tone stirs up butterflies in my belly—or is it my nerves?
“Very cute, Brennan. Just thought you’d appreciate a little something different tonight besides my Macallan. You seem like a champagne kind of woman.”
“Ah, I see. And the strawberries?” I’ll play along with his little game.
“Strawberries enrich the flavor of the champagne, of course. Can’t have one without the other.” He takes a seat on one of the stuffed pillows and pulls me down next to him before pouring me a glass.
“But of course.”
He is too funny when he’s like this. Those dimples and cleft chin make me melt just a little bit more. The flames dance in those mischievous eyes of his as they darken with promise. Surprisingly, after getting a firsthand look at my imperfections, he still seems interested.
“What kind of champagne is this?” I ask, actually appreciating the flavor. The rose-colored bottle is pretty too. Definitely better than the scotch that cost more than a home. Just thinking about it is insane.
“Armand de Brignac Brut Rose Champagne.”
“You want to try that again in English?” I tease. “That’s a mouthful.”
“Not yet.” He winks.
I don’t miss that ginormous innuendo. That fucker has flashing lights around it. I take a huge gulp of my “whatever the hell he called it” champagne—lost for the right comeback. “Not another half a mil?” I ask. I’m stepping right over that last comment for now.
“No. Significantly less at ten grand, but that’s not what I’m thinking about.” Holy shit, that’s still a lot of money, but I indulge where he’s going with this.
“So what are you thinking about?”
“Sure you want to know, buttercup? You can’t unask the question, so make sure you’re ready to hear what plagues my mind.”
He takes slow but steady sips of the champagne he just poured for himself. He is giving me an out, a chance to turn this bullet train around, but I’m not going to take it.
“Keep moving like a bullet train.” I quote the lyrics from the song “Bullet Train” by Stephen Swartz featuring Joni Fatora. His dimples make their reappearance as he understands what I’m saying. It’s one of the songs he added to my phone. I’m giving him the green light without having to actually come out and say it.
“Yeah?” he questions. I nod. “I’d rather show you.”
He knocks back the remaining contents of his champagne glass before getting up and disappearing. What the hell? Then I hear it. It’s the song. Moving like the speed of sound. It plays in surround sound, filtering around the deck. He returns and takes his seat back on the pillow.
He picks up a single strawberry and rubs it across my lips until I take a bite. He takes the next bite. We go back and forth like this, eating a few of them before he gets bolder. He trails one down my breast in the shape of an “S.” He then licks the path that he just drew with the strawberry. His tongue along my heated skin makes me shiver. He takes another strawberry from the bed of ice and leans me back. My breath catches in my throat as he traces another path, lower than the one before, and my vagina throbs the minute his tongue strokes my flesh. My hands grab a fist full of his hair on their own, and that’s the only encouragement he needs. He unties my bikini bottoms with only two pulls. The only thing keeping them up is the fact that I’m still sitting on the fabric. Well, I was.
Crouching before me, he lifts my legs up and over his shoulders before I can even blink. Holy hell, he’s strong. My bottoms fall away, and my bare pussy is lined up with his mouth. I fall back against the pillow, ready for him to take me in his mouth, but there is a pause.
“You’re going to watch every second of me devouring this sweet pussy. I want you to see how greedy my tongue is for you right now.”
“Yes.” I don’t even know what the hell I’m saying. He didn’t ask me a question. He was giving me instructions he intends for me to follow.
The first lick to my clit has me buckling before he even gets into it. The sensation isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt. I wasn’t ready. He tightens his grip on my thighs, and this time, he latches onto my nub.
“Ahhhh,” I cry out. He begins a skillful tempo of licks and nibbles. The tremor of my legs is uncontrollable. I can’t reach his hair now, and I need something to hold. He swirls his tongue around my clit once more before he explores my depths. Every plunge of his wicked tongue inside me makes it impossible to focus. His back flexes beneath my calves as he pushes further inside. I can no longer hold on. My head falls back while my body writhes from his oral assault. His mouth is insanely talented, and all I can do is ride the wave of my first orgasm as he rips it from me.
“Silas … shit!” I moan his name like a woman possessed. He doesn’t stop. He sucks every last drop until a second orgasm rolls into the first one. Euphoria takes over, and I feel like I’m falling. It’s all too much. Suddenly, something cold drizzles down my folds. It’s the damn champagne. The coldness revs up the dissipating ache—snowballing into a sensation that can’t easily be put into words. He sucks my champagne-laced juices with fervor and stars explode behind my eyes when yet another orgasm chases down the first two.
“This is how I like my champagne. That’s what I was thinking about. I bought it with you in mind,” he confesses before licking through my aftershocks.
He eases my legs down, but I swear I can’t move. I just had three amazingly perfect orgasms. I’ve gotten myself off before, but what he just accomplished doesn’t even compare. That was another level of coming that I’ve been missing out on until now.
“So would you like some more champagne?” he asks like he didn’t just have my pussy in his mouth. Like he didn’t just shatter my world with his tongue. I nod, so he pours me another glass. I sure as hell need it after that. “Guess I’ve found something else that enriches the taste of the champagne besides strawberries.”
And just like that, my vag aches for another go. I’m ready to see what other tricks he has in his arsenal. I stare at his lips with a newfound appreciation.
“Keep staring at me like that, Brennan, and you’re going to get fucked.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m hoping for,” I admit brazenly. I surprise myself. Not Silas, though. It’s like he knew it all along.
“Tasting your cunt was something I could no longer stave off. I’ve thought about it all day. Don’t tempt me with the pleasure of being your first unless you’re absolutely sure. I can’t offer you anything but the promise to fuck you to a plethora of earth-shattering orgasms. No relationship and no commitments.”
I note his warning, and it’s as I expected. I don’t want anything from him but that tongue again and his cock. I had known this before I agreed to come up here.
“Do you always try to talk women out of having sex with you?” I playfully roll my eyes to lighten the now heavier mood. “I’m absolutely sure, and you can trust that I don’t want anything other than what you just promised.”
“Well, in that case, doll, let’s take this inside. Your first time is not going to be on pillows on the ground. I’m not that much of an asshole.” He smirks.
I’m taking that leap, and I’m not looking back. I wanted this, and now, I will have him—even if it is just for tonight. It’s my decision.