Page 94 of Fire and Silk

The friction is overwhelming.

Thick. Deep. The head of his cock grinds up into that swollen spot inside me that makes my thighs quake every time he hits it. I can feel my slick mixing with the water, hot and slippery, coating us both.

And I want more.

I lift my mouth to his—eyes fluttering closed—and bite his bottom lip.

He groans into me, and his hips slam forward in answer, burying his cock to the base. I moan into his mouth, gasping as he rocks into me again, and again, never rushing—but deep, deliberate, dragging every sensation through me like a flame.

I lean in and bite his neck.

Right where it meets the curve of his shoulder, my teeth sinking into wet skin. He jerks beneath me with a hiss, hands flexing against my ass. He keeps fucking me through it, cock surging inside me, but I don’t stop biting. My lips stay there—sucking, grazing, licking the water from his skin as I hold on, pulsing around him.

He’s inside me completely.

Not just physically—fully. I can’t breathe without feeling the weight of him. My whole body feels like it exists around the shape of his cock, around the rhythm of his breath. Every thrust sends pressure curling tighter inside me, like I’ll break if he stops and shatter if he doesn’t.

And still—I don’t let go.

My arms stay locked around his neck; fingers tangled in his soaked hair. My thighs grip his waist, muscles burning. I want to fuse into him. Be claimed. Be filled. Be taken so far I forget who I am.

Chapter Fifteen – Mico

I don’t remember getting in the car. Just the sting in my teeth and the heat behind my eyes. The wheel jerks when I hit the bend fast, but I don’t slow down. The iron gate vanishes behind me. Her voice rings under my skin like it doesn’t know when to quit.

I should have stayed silent. I should have dragged her out of there.

The streets blur. I run two lights. A bus honks but I don’t lift my foot. My knuckles are locked around the wheel. If I ease up, I’ll start shaking and I won’t stop.

She married him.

She signed herself over and looked at me like I was the stranger.

When the hotel comes into view, something in my chest tightens. I take the corner nearly sideswipe the valet stand. I throw the keys and don’t wait for anyone to speak. The lobby is polished. I don’t stop moving. If I stop, I’ll remember how she looked standing beside him.

The room smells like expensive nothing. Cold air. Folded towels. Her things are still on the dresser. The scarf she slept in. A half-empty bottle of moisturizer she never capped right.

I dial room service with one hand and pull at my tie with the other.

“Wine,” I say. “Red. I don’t care what kind.”

I drop the phone before they answer. The knot in my throat doesn’t budge.

When the knock comes, I don’t speak. I swing the door open and take the bottle from the kid holding the tray. He blinks at me. I shut the door in his face.

I drink from the neck. It doesn’t matter how it tastes.

The first pull goes down. The second one turns to acid.

She chose him. The one with the dead stare and the teeth behind the silk. She stood there in front of me like I’d never meant anything.

I tip the bottle again. The room spins a little. Good.

I throw it at the wall.

Glass bursts, final. Wine drips down the wallpaper. The shape it makes doesn’t matter.

I let myself fall. Right there. I don’t remember hitting the floor.