Page 122 of A Silence So Divine

That’s all it takes, and then he surrounds me. The pressure of his mouth tethers me to the moment, and I wrap my arms around his neck. The feel of our bare chests pressed together robs me of breath.

Nothing could ever feel better.

His muscles are tense, each movement more desperate than the last. I’m no better, my frantic breaths intermingling with his own. The faintest brush travels up my spine, winding around my hair and giving a firm tug. It’s not painful, but it’s enough for me to release his mouth and let my head fall back on a gasp.

The loss of lips on mine is mourned only for a heartbeat. The sensation of petal softness and sandpapery cheeks against my throat slips me into a delicious delirium.

All I can do is cling to the man in front of me as he works his kiss over my flesh. There’s a mirror on the far side of the room, and I’m able to make out the faint outline of our bodies. Him, cast in the golden glow, and I, in darkness as he consumes me. I can’t tear my eyes away.

Whether it’s him or I that moves first, I’m unsure, and I don’t realize we’ve made our way toward his bed until he sits down. At this angle, his face is level with my chest, and I struggle to keep my composure. Idle hands searching, my fingers end up wound in the thick waves of his hair. The tips of my nails scratch along his scalp, and his whole being shudders.

The light illuminates both of us now, and it takes everything in me not to feel shame. It was easier in the shadows, but a niggle of doubt begins to creep into the forefront of my mind. That is until he murmurs,

“You are undeniably perfect.”

I blush and shake my head in disagreement. His grip on my hips tightens, and my whole body thrums with the intensity of his gaze.

“For me, you are.”

No words spoken have ever made me so lightheaded.

I could pass away right here.

Lifting me like I weigh nothing at all, he positions me on his lap so that my thighs hug his. The contact that occurs is nothing short of divine.

“Can I touch you?” There’s a tremble to his voice. An edge.

“You are,”I answer, breathless and confused. My hands instantly return to his skin. I couldn’t stop touching him if I wanted to.

“Not how I’d like to.”

Realization dawns on me. I muster a meek nod.

Curiosity victors over any embarrassment. Eyes wide with wonder, I watch the ascent of his hands as they slide up and over my rib cage, settling over my chest. My head falls back, and if it weren’t for his grip on me, I would be in a heap on the floor.

His ministrations are slow in discovery, tracing valleys while I memorize his calloused touch. It might be seconds, minutes, hours before I have the wherewithal to lift my head and seek out his lips once more. His mouth tastes of cinnamon and heat, and it’s sweeter than any chocolate or syrup. It’s personal, one of a kind, and absolutely intoxicating. I see now how addiction begins.

The room spins, and I’m suddenly staring up at the ceiling. Cecil holds himself above me, using one hand to brush my hair back from my forehead. The heaviness of the moment settles over me like a thick blanket. The silence of the room is somehow roaring, and a fire burns in my veins. Even my heartbeat isamplified—each beat thumping in my face, my hands, my… everything. Everywhere.

Cecil peers down at me with an expression I can’t place. It’s torn somewhere between hunger and fear.

“You’ll tell me to stop,” he whispers. It’s not a question, but a command. My thoughts have to travel through the haze of lust, but once they do, a weight settles on my chest. He’s worried for me.

“I’ll tell you to stop,”I repeat.

Still, he hesitates, his thick brows pulled low over his eyes. With one finger, I explore the planes of his stomach, dipping lower until I reach the proof of his arousal. His breath hitches, and pride heats my cheeks. The rest of my fingers join in until I’m cupping the front of his sleep pants, daring myself to continue the exploration.

With a gasp, he snags my hand and stops my movements.

“You first.” His voice is husky, low—the timbre flitting over my skin like a caress of its own.

Giving myself over to him, I hold tightly to trust and quiet the rest of my thoughts. As he makes his way down my body, I relax into the sheets, allowing my eyes to close.

There’s movement, and warmth, and an otherworldly amount of pleasure. His touch is precise, drawing out ecstasy from the depths of my soul. Breathing becomes more and more difficult as an urgency builds low in my stomach. Gasps get caught in the back of my throat, and I throw a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. Teeth bared, I bite into the flesh on the side of my palm.

The pressure leaves, and a frustration I’ve never known has my eyes flying open and peering down.

His lips glisten in the lamp light. I can hardly look him in the eye.