Page 73 of Silent Stalker
"Then take me," I breathe against his lips. "All of me."
Something snaps in Silas's eyes. He tears off the mask and his mouth crashes into mine, desperate and demanding. His hands roam my bare skin as I fumble with his shirt buttons, needing to feel him.
I gasp as Silas's mouth trails down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. My back arches into him as he presses me against the wall, his hands pinning my wrists above my head.
"Please," I whimper, desperate to feel him inside me.
He releases one of my wrists to unzip his pants, the sound echoing in the quiet room. My free hand finds his chest, tracing the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt.
"Tell me what you want," he commands, his voice husky with need.
"You. All of you."
His cock presses against my entrance, teasing me. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer. With one powerful thrust, he fills me completely.
I cry out, overwhelmed by the sensation. His movements are slow at first, deliberate, making me feel every inch of him. My nails dig into his shoulders as he picks up the pace.
"Look at me," he growls.
I open my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. The raw emotion I see there takes my breath away. This isn't just sex. It's a merging of our souls.
His thrusts become more urgent, more demanding. I match his rhythm, lost in the pleasure building inside me. Every stroke brings me closer to the edge.
"Come for me," he commands, his voice strained with his need.
My body obeys, waves of ecstasy washing over me as I shatter in his arms. Silas follows moments later, his release triggering another wave of pleasure through my hypersensitive body.
We stay connected, our breathing slowly returning to normal. His forehead rests against mine, our bodies still trembling from the intensity of our connection.
Afterward, he collapses beside me, pulling me close, my head resting on his chest. I listen to the steady beat of his heart, his arms wrapped protectively around me.
For the first time, I feel truly seen, truly understood. The darkness we usually embrace has given way to a different kind of intimacy, leaving me feeling bare in a whole new way.
I know at this moment, I'd follow Silas anywhere.
32
SILAS
The crackle of police radio chatter through my hidden surveillance equipment makes me straighten. At the same time, Clara washes dishes in her kitchen. The steady stream of water masks my movements as I approach her from behind.
"They know," I whisper against her ear. Her hands were still in the soapy water. "James connected the dots faster than expected."
Clara's breath catches. "How long?"
"Ten minutes, maybe less." I press my palm against her lower back, guiding her away from the sink. "Leave the phones. They're already tracking them."
She nods, understanding immediately. We've rehearsed this scenario, though we didn't expect it yet. Sirens wail in the distance as we move silently through her childhood home.
"Side door," I direct, keeping my voice low. Outside, a snowstorm rages, thick flakes reducing visibility to mere feet. Perfect cover.
We slip out just as red and blue lights flash at the end of her street. Three houses down, the SUV waits, loaded with everything we need under our new identities. Clara's bootscrunch through fresh powder as we move between houses, staying in the shadows.
A police cruiser crawls past, its spotlight sweeping yards. Clara freezes. I pull her against me, pressing us both into the darkness between a fence and overgrown bushes. Her heart pounds against my chest as the light passes inches from our faces.
When it's clear, we sprint the final distance to the SUV. I help Clara into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel. The engine purrs to life as more sirens converge on her house.
"Hold on," I murmur, easing onto the unplowed street. The SUV's heavy tires grip through the deepening snow while squad cars disappear behind us in the whiteout conditions.