Page 80 of Silas

“I wanted to know what you taste like.”

“And?”

I nibble the corner of my lower lip as I hold his eyes, feeling yet another burst of boldness take over. “I like it. A lot.”

I put my middle finger in my mouth. Taste him all over again. The ring finger. His come tastes…I want to say familiar, but that’s not it.

Like everything else about him, this part of Silas, being sexual with him…it just feels…right. Like home.

from strength to strength

Silas

Jesus.

I’m fucking wrecked.

I’ll never be the same. I’m ruined for all other women.

She’s in my arms, naked and warm and snuggled close, her cheek on my chest, up high, so her breath huffs over my breastbone. Her hand rests lazily on my belly, low, languidly tracing idle patterns on my flesh. Her breast is draped on my ribcage, her pussy pressed against my thigh.

I want to fuck her. Scratch that—correction: I want to make love to her. I’ve never wanted that, never thought I would. Sex has always been about release—it’s always been just about fucking, about getting off and moving on with my life.

I mean, it was sort of, almost love with Sue. For a moment, maybe. But we both knew whatever it was between us had an expiration date, and most likely that expiry date would come in the form of one of us dying. So, I think we both kept things back, shielded our emotions just to emotionally survive when the end inevitably came. We were two fucked-up people in a fucked-up situation basically just seeking some kind of mutual comfort. Which, I suppose, can very easily feel like a real connection…or even love, if you will.

I feel something wet and warm on my skin, and hear Naomi sniffle.

“Hey,” I murmur, “what’s up?”

“I just…I’m feeling a lot of things right now.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

A tiny shrug. “I’m not sure you’d…want to hear it.”

“I want to hear whatever you need to say, sweetheart.”

“It’s just…this was such a beautiful, amazing, eye-opening experience, and I don’t want to…” She nuzzles closer, and I tighten my grip on her hip. “I don’t want to ruin it.”

“You can’t ruin it.”

“Wanna bet?”

I laugh. “Try me, babe. I’m here to listen.”

“Jerry was…” she sighs, and considers her next words for quite some time. “He was really awful to me, Silas.”

Oh, shit.

“Naomi, fuck. I hope to god I didn’t do anything that—”

She lunges up and kisses me to shut me up. “No, Silas. No. Not at all.” She brushes her thumb over my lips in a sweet, tender gesture that takes my breath away. “It’s just…it was hard to be present with you. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to do all those things with you. And no, you’re absolutely nothing like him, in any way. You’re as far from him as any two things can be.”

“Good.”

“It’s just…my only experience with sex, obviously, was with him. And he…he wasn’t kind.”

I take a deep, fortifying breath. “If you need to talk about it, you can tell me anything and everything. I’ll listen, and I won’t interrupt. If you don’t want to get into it, that’s fine too. But just know I can handle it, okay?”