Page 89 of Silent Stalker

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Page 89 of Silent Stalker

"We should go," he says finally, his voice soft.

I nod, my cheek brushing his chest. "Yeah."

Silas pulls away slightly, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Are you okay?"

I know what he's asking. This life we've chosen isn't easy. But the alternative is worse. We're just meting out the justice that evaded so many.

"I'm okay," I assure him, reaching up to cover his hands with mine. "Better than okay." I look into his eyes, seeing the same darkness that consumes me reflected back.

He leans in, kissing me softly. For once, his kiss isn't demanding or brutal—it's achingly gentle, speaking of emotions neither of us dares name.

We straighten our clothes and check our surroundings before stepping out of the alley, arm in arm, just another couple out for a night on the town. But we both know the truth. The night is young, and another predator is waiting to be judged.

39

EXTENDED EPILOGUE

SILAS

Two months later…

Ihold Clara against my chest, savoring the warmth from the crackling fireplace. The snow falls softly outside our cabin windows, creating a perfect blanket of white. My fingers trace patterns on her arm as I gently kiss her neck.

"Remember last Christmas?" I murmur against her skin. "When we first came here?"

Clara leans back into me, sighing contentedly. "Feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time."

The flames cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the peaceful smile I've come to treasure. Only Clara gets to see this side of me, the tender touches, and the moments of vulnerability.

"I made your favorite tonight," I say, nuzzling her hair. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon still lingers from her shower earlier. "Those little chocolate soufflés you love."

I rise from the couch, already missing Clara's warmth against me. "Don't move," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

In the kitchen, I retrieve the soufflés from where they've been keeping warm. The chocolate aroma fills the air as I carefully plate them. My hands are steady as I arrange everything perfectly.

Returning to Clara, I set the desserts on the side table. "Come here," I say, settling back into the plush armchair and pulling my hard dick from my sweatpants.

Clara licks her lips, eyes fixed on my dick. "Are you going to fuck me while I eat?" she asks.

I shake my head. “You remember what we did a few times before? When you just sat on my dick?"

Clara bites her lip, eyes sparkling with curiosity and desire. "Yeah, I remember. You want to do that?"

"Sit," I instruct, and she dutifully removes her panties and straddles my lap, slowly sinking down onto my cock.

I lean back, gripping her hips to guide her, and she lets out a soft moan as she envelops me. Her eyes flutter closed momentarily as she gets used to the sensation.

"Now, for this to work, you have to sit really still," I tell her, amused by the challenge this presents.

I spoon her the chocolate soufflé, and she savors the taste. Her body is taut with concentration; every muscle is focused on remaining still while she's filled with my cock and the decadent dessert.

She releases a sigh of contentment, and I marvel at her perched on my lap, exquisitely balanced, every movement calculated. I live for this: pushing boundaries, both mine and hers.

"You alright there?" I ask, fighting the urge to thrust my hips and ruin the game.

"Oh yes," she breathes, opening her eyes and meeting my gaze. "Keep feeding me."

I watch Clara's face as she takes another bite of the soufflé, memorizing every micro-expression. The way her lips part, how her eyes close in pleasure, the slight furrow of concentration as she maintains perfect stillness on my cock.




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