Page 65 of Glass

“Do it.”

28 – Stasi

He stills. His body stops, every movement ceasing as his eyes flick to mine. “Say that again.”

So I suck in a breath. “Punish me, Silas. However you want to.”

His eyes close, and I force myself to push out the words. “Do what you want. Just… just don’thateme anymore.”

And when his eyes open, they look like an ocean storm. Dark and swirling, even as he presses his forehead to mine.

“Stasi,” he says roughly. “God fucking forgive me.”

And before I can take in the words, before the possible consequences of my permission have time to sink in, he turns me. One moment, I’m staring into his face, and the next, I’m pressed against the wall. He drags my hands down, slowly, pressing them against the cool wall until they’re level with my shoulders, my cheek pressed against the deep blue.

“Keep your hands there.”

I do as he says, my breathing shaky as he skates his hands down my back. Sliding down the wet black cotton of my shirt.

Lower.

My breath hitches as I feel him trace the sides of my hips, his touch soft. Too soft.

Almost… reverent.

He presses his face against my lower back. “Tell me to stop.”

It sounds like a plea.

ButthisSilas. This undone, heated, passionate part of him, this is the Silas that I want. Not the cold, angry, sarcastic man.

And I know that’s part of him too - the hurt, angry part, but the man in the room with me right now is therealSilas. And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him back.

So instead of responding, I push myself back, pressing my chest against the wall and stepping back with my legs. Pushing into him. “No.”

I don’t know what I’m even asking for. But I jump when I feel the undeniable bite of teeth sink into my skin through my leggings. Silas pulls back, rubbing his thumb over the small sting.

“The things I want to do to you,” he says slowly. He doesn’t stop touching me, the sting changing to a burning heat that spreads across my body. “Fucking hell, Anastasia.”

“Tell me,” I whisper, and he pauses.

“I want to tie you up,” he says slowly. “I want to take those fucking chains, and tie you to my fucking bed, where you can’t get into trouble and I don’t have to worry about you.”

My breathing hitches at the thought. Not that I’m particularly keen to be back in chains, but the image burrows inside my head, lying there, spread for him as he walks towards me—

I swallow, hard. Well,fuck.“What else?”

His hand cups my ass. “I want to peel off these clothes, and I want to spread you across my lap and spank you until the only sound you can make is my fucking name. I want to open you up and look at that pretty cunt of yours and see what it looks like when my fingers are buried inside it.”

My moan slips out, unbidden, dropping into the space between us. My pussy clenches like he’s stroking it in time with his words, wetness spreading across my underwear.

I cry out when a finger presses against me, through the material. He pushes in, his fingers exploring me without apology as I press back against him.

“If I’d known this was an option,” I choke out, “I would probably have taken this over the chores.”

He pauses, then. “This isn’t… I don’t expect this from you.”

And I know we’re both thinking of the same thing.