Page 43 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

Something about the clarifier had been so needed.

It was Silas’s way of telling me he heard me not only as a dominant—as his Dom—but also as a partner.

I worried sometimes that our age gap would create its own power imbalance, but with the simple use of my name, Silas once again rendered that fear moot.

“I want to celebrate your first day of work,” I said again. “And later this week, when you snatch this award right out from under me, I want to celebrate that too.”

He managed a weak laugh but nodded along with me.

“Friday, we’re supposed to meet up with Andrew,” I said. “But afterward, however Cahuenga Pass goes, I want to take you out.”

“I don’t des?—”

“Silas, stop,” I warned.

He groaned, throwing his head back and staring up at the ceiling. I leaned against the arm of the couch and studied him carefully, trying to make sure I didn’t misread the situation.

“What is it?” I asked him slowly. “And don’t lie.”

He huffed, the callout clearly weighing heavier on him that he wanted to admit. I had no qualms about that. He could do with a reminder about who we were to each other and what I expected of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. First to the ceiling, then to me. He went to his knees, forced his way between my spread legs, and grabbed my thighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I want to,” I said, tracing my thumb across his lower lip. “Because forgiveness is my prerogative.”

“I don’t des?—”

I cut him off again, “You’re not in charge. What you deserve is not for you to decide.”

“I want to make it up to you,” he said next .

“There’s nothing to make up, and if you don’t stop, you’ll find yourself over the sink again with ten more bruises to match the ones I just gave you.”

I could see the argument in his face, and then I watched the fight go out of him.

“Is this settled?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered.

“Can we celebrate now?”

Silas glanced up at me from beneath the fan of his dark lashes, expression half-coy and half-disbelieving.

“Did you still want…”

“I always want,” I assured him. “And right now I want you to suck my cock until I get tired of your throat and want to move on to your ass.”

“Sir.”

His fingers slid up my legs, freeing my half-hard cock from my fly with relative ease. He sank down and took me into his mouth like getting me erect would be his penance, and I was content to let him chase his own forgiveness between my legs.

Silas went to work on me with a ferocious strength, spit pooling on my balls as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked me toward the edge.

I slowly worked my fingers through his hair, lifting his head to slow him down enough that I didn’t shoot my load into his mouth before I even had a chance to get him on my lap.

“Easy, sweetheart,” I rasped, hips shifting off the couch in protest of my own actions.

Silas groaned, slowing down and easing up the suction.

I closed my eyes and stretched my arms across the back of the couch, enjoying the way pleasure wrapped around my spine the longer he sucked me, content to enjoy the feel of him until he started to chase after friction with sharp pumps of his hips.

“Settle,” I warned, tapping his head until he pulled off.

Rocking back onto his heels, it was the second time that night Silas had gazed up at me with a wet face, though this time the tears were far more welcome than the first.

“Go get lube,” I told him, and he was off in a flash, leaving his pants around his knees as he awkwardly raced down the hallway. He was back in seconds, the bottle still wet from the shower as he pressed it into my hand.

Flipping the lid, I squirted some into his waiting hand, then used my foot to kick him backward toward the coffee table.

“Get yourself ready for me,” I said. “Spread yourself open so I can watch.”

He cursed under his breath, bringing his heels onto the edge of the coffee table.

He was bent like a W, his cock so hard he didn’t even need to lift himself out of the way for me to watch him spear two slick fingers into his ass.

I poured lube into my own hand and stroked my dick until it shined under the living room light, my stare alternating between the indecent-looking stretch of Silas’s hole and the enraptured look on his face.

He was bruised from back to front, cheeks wet with tears and spit, stomach smeared with precum.

If I watched him carefully, I bet I could see him trembling from the want of it all.

“Silas, now.”

I bracketed my hand around the base of my cock and held it tall.

Silas climbed onto my lap and sank down slowly until my entire length filled him up, and once we were fully joined, he settled his hands on my shoulders and started to move.

He rode me tentatively at first, not wanting to go too deep or too hard, but the need to have him quickly became too overwhelming for me to let him go slow any longer.

With a rumbling growl, I looped my arm around his waist and pushed into a standing position.

Silas cried out in shock, then laughed, and I brought him down to the coffee table on his back.

Angling one of his legs straight into the air, I pressed a sloppy kiss against the inside of his calf, then I fucked him the way we both knew he wanted to be fucked.

Silas shouted my name, coming almost immediately.

Ribbons of white shot out of his cock, painting his chest, and I continued fucking into him with the same level of force until his balls were well and truly emptied, and then I fucked him even harder.

Silas begged for more, whined for less, and I thrust into him harder and harder and harder each time.

There was no way for me to get deep enough into him for my need to ever be sated, but I would surely die trying.

One final snap of my hips and the table gave way beneath our weight.

Wood groaned and cracked, buckling under Silas’s back.

We both fell straight through to the floor, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

My orgasm railed into me like a freight train, and I dug my nails into him with so much force he’d end up with ten more bruises whether that had been my intent or not.

Coming inside of Silas was like coming home, and I dropped my chin toward my chest to try and slow my breathing.

Desperate breath after breath, my vision was still dark around the edges from the force of my orgasm.

Silas’s knee hooked over my shoulder, but I was pressed so tight against him with the table all around us, I managed to steal a kiss.

The taste of his spit and his sweat were enough to bring me back into the present, and I moved out of him slowly so I didn’t hurt either of us more than the fall already had. My knees were going to kill me.

Carefully, I pulled him out of the debris and onto my lap, trailing my fingers down his back to check him for splinters.

“Are you all right?” I asked. “Did that hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’m more than fine,” he murmured against my mouth, the words trying their hardest to turn into a kiss. “That’s my kind of celebration. ”

I laughed, burying my face into the crook of his neck and smiling against his sweaty skin.

“Me too, sweetheart, but I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

Scooping Silas into my arms, I carried him down the hallway and tossed him on the bed. “In fact, I’m just getting started.”