Page 73 of Silas

“I’m turned on, Naomi. How you felt, before I touched you? Achy, needing something? That’s how I feel. Watching you, touching you, making you come? Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And I…I’m gonna go in the bathroom and…take care of it.”

She’s silent for a long time. “You…you don’t want me, to…” she trails off, and fuck me if the tone in her voice isn’t hurt. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

I close my eyes and sigh. “That’s not it, Naomi. I want you to touch me so fucking bad. But I…” I roll to face her again. “This was about you. Not me. I don’t want you to think this was about anything at all other than me wanting to make you feel good. To show you…to show you how it’s supposed to be.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Just nods. I can’t read what she’s feeling.

“Do you understand? It’s not about me not wanting you. It’s…if anything, it’s the opposite. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, anyone, ever. I want you too much. I don’t know how to…it’s so hard to control myself with you, but all I want is to treat you right. Take care of you. I can’t and I won’t make this about me. Do you understand, Naomi?”

She nods. “I understand.”

I sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

I wince as I stand up, trying to not be obvious about tugging my underwear away from my body to make space for my raging erection.

I feel her eyes on me as I go into the bathroom and close the door. I stand over the toilet and shove my jeans and boxer briefs down. My cock springs free, pre-come arcing in a string down to my underwear.

I grip myself and pump once. Close my eyes and visualize Naomi, spread out beneath me, naked, heaving and writhing, breasts round and plump.

Fuck, I wish it was her hand on me, not my own. Maybe someday.

I close my eyes and grit my teeth, gripping myself so tight it aches, pumping my length again.

I hear the door click with a soft creak of the hinges. Naomi enters the bathroom. She’s still naked, and she’s a fuckin goddess. My cock twitches at the vision of her nude perfection. Her breasts are large for her frame, taut and perfectly round and high and pert, turned upward at the tips.

She licks her lips, a nervous tic, as she sees me with one palm braced on the wall, the other gripping my cock.

She moves to my side, facing me. Looks up at me with wide, innocent, pleading eyes. “Come back, Silas. Please?”

I shake my head. “Naomi, I…”

“I trust you.”

She reaches up, wraps her slender, strong fingers around my wrist and pulls it away from the wall; I allow it, grudgingly. Her eyes fix on mine.

“Will you trust me?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

I nod slowly. “Okay.”

“Come back to the bed.”

I bend to grab my jeans and underwear, but she refuses to let go of my wrist.

“Take them off, please?”

I straighten, meeting her eyes. She stares back at me, unblinking, unwavering. She’s so soft, so sweet, so innocent, but inside, deep down, she’s got a spine of solid steel. If she asks me to trust her, then I’ll trust her. I’ll let her guide this. She walks backward, tugging me by the wrist. My cock bobs and sways, stranding upright against my belly. Her gaze flicks down to it, and her eyes widen, then go back to mine. She pulls me by my wrist to the bed, spinning me as we reach it, and pushing me to sit. She crawls onto the bed beside me and tugs me down. We lay on the bed side by side, both of us naked. I feel awkward, uncomfortable, unsure. I’m not used to letting anyone else dictate what happens in bed—I take what I want from my partners, and that always means I make sure she gets hers first before I let myself get there.

This is uncharted territory for me.

She lays on her side, and her eyes fix on mine. “Silas, I…” she tenders her hand out, resting it on my chest, her touch hesitant, cautious. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey. You don’t have to do anything.”

“No, I…Iwantto. I’m attracted to you. When you touch me, it lights me on fire. You made me feel…amazing. Incredible. I…I didn’t know I could feel that way. I didn’t know those kinds of feelings could exist.”

“Your husband, he—”