Page 42 of Beautiful Things Obey
It only heats the demand of my pulsing need between my thighs as he says, “Yes.” He sits back on the sofa, not once taking his eyes off me as he takes a sip of his drink.
I like how he watches me dance, how I can feel him all over me without even touching me. I love how taboo and reckless this is.
I swipe a lighter from the counter beside a container of cigars as I slowly walk over to him. He wants to see more of my unhinged self. Sometimes I think men should be careful about what they wish for. But if anyone can handle it, it’s Silas Vescari. If not, I’ll take great pride in scaring him away. Or even better, being pinned down for what I’m about to do.
The next song starts, and I can’t help but smile. I love this playlist. I wonder if he picked it intentionally. It’s different from what I listen to when I work, though right now the last thing I am thinking about is work. I swing my hips as Sophie B. Hawkins sings through the sound system,“Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover.”
He doesn’t make a move as he watches me dance. I close my eyes and tip my head back, holding the glass in my hand, singing every word as if it were me. The alcohol from earlier is already leaving me, and only a slight buzz remains. When the chorus starts, I turn to find him still watching me, his drink untouched and a look of want—no, almost need—on his face. I keep singing the words, swaying my hips until I’m standing in front of him. He opens his legs a little farther, then reaches up to the back of my thighs and pulls me even closer.
“Do you like playing with fire, Silas?” I ask, flicking the lighter, hyperaware of his calloused hand sliding up the back of my leg.
He’s still watching me, always assessing as I bring my glass to his lips and curl my hands around his throat. “Don’t swallow.”
His lips tug as I casually lean to one side of his body, flicking the lighter to ignite a small flame. My stomach gets giddy as I think about how this will go. Will he step up to the challenge? Any sane person wouldn’t. But I want to push this man. Makehim realize it was a bad idea to ever get mixed up with me, so I can have my hit tonight and never have to worry about him again.
He wanted to see this unhinged part of me, but the truth of it is, only a few have ever dared to play when they see her.
His mouth is full of the rest of my liquor as I tug a vicious smile and look at the flame. “Now blow.” He raises an eyebrow, and that glint of challenge is in his gaze. “Just so you know, if you don’t blow hard enough, there’s a high probability that?—”
He spits so hard, the flames explode outward, and I immediately turn the lighter off, my heart racing. My pussy turns into liquid warmth as sweat immediately breaks out over my shoulder.
His gaze bores into mine, that crackling tension only heightening my pounding heart. Without a second thought, he removes the empty glass from my hand, places it carefully next to his on the small table, and then his hand is back on my thigh, holding me close to him.
“Did you think that would scare me, Little Raven? Surely, you can do better than that.” Little Raven… That’s new, but I don’t care about that. All I care about is how my heart pounds, surprised and elated by how easily he takes control of the situation. He’s like the cold storm to my fiery chaos, but only when I let her out.
And often only when she needs to protect herself.
I wipe over his bottom lip, mesmerized. “Looks like they didn’t melt away. Still kissable, I suppose,” I say, my voice dripping with lust. This perfect, beautiful, ruthless fucking man.
“Leonore.” He says my name as if it’s almost a request, but nothing follows.
I’m actually going to do this, go against everything I say I will never do. Why? Because my best friend said I need to get laid?
No, though that did start the thought of it, not that I didn’t already think about what it would be like to have him between my legs, especially after I felt what I could be working with. No, it’s him. Pure, powerful magnetism that pulls me in. It’s become harder to resist.
“Silas, you should remove my shirt now.” He sits up farther and untucks my shirt, pulls it over my head, leaving me in only my high-waisted skirt and bra. His hands are no longer on the back of my thighs as he reaches for me and pulls me down until I fall into his lap, my knees now on either side of his legs as I sit on him.
His gaze immediately lingers on the deep scar across my collarbone. “How did you get this?” he growls.
My jaw tightens slightly as I flick my hair over my shoulder and say, “Your questions are boring, Silas. I think your hands will work better than your mouth by taking off my bra as well.”
His jaw tightens. Silas isn’t a man used to being denied, well, anything. But my secrets are not up for discussion. His gaze flickers with curiosity, but he seems to be a smart man whose gaze continues to roam down my body. Our mouths are so close when he reaches behind and unclasps my bra. I feel the straps fall from my shoulders, then I let it fall off completely. His eyes leave mine and drop to my breasts before they come back up to me. His hands then fall to the button on my skirt, but I stop him and curve a ruthless smile.
“The skirt stays on.”
“You’re awfully demanding for a woman who wants an orgasm,” he says as his hands slide across to my upper bare back.
“You’re certainly picky for a man who I’m permitting to touch my body,” I say with a seductive smile. His eyes darken with greed, and my smile doesn’t falter as I lean forward and smash my lips to his. His hands slide up and down my back, as if heis trying to work out all my ridges. He explores each part of me with his hands, hard yet gentle, as they work across my back before moving to my hips. He pushes my hips down so I can feel the hardness through his jeans while my panties press against the perfect spot. His mouth opens, and I slide my tongue in. He groans at the contact, and I keep on kissing him. My hands find his chest, and I press my hands against him as his hand stays on my hips. Before I can stop myself, I’m moving, the kiss almost forgotten with each hip movement, until he bites my bottom lip and my eyes spring open.
“You are so fucking beautiful.” Words, I never needed them before when I had sex. I would actually prefer none. The last man I fucked kept on talking as I rode his cock, and at one stage, I covered his mouth with my hand to get him to shut the fuck up.
It didn’t work. He kept talking under my hand.
I didn’t come. But I did tie him to his bed and leave him there before he could come as well.
“Am I?” I ask, not for reassurance, but because I want to hear what else he says.
“The most fucking beautiful creature I have ever seen.” My hands slide down his shirt to the hem. I pull at it, and he lets me, removing his hands from my body so I can slide it off him. Discarding it to the floor next to us, I take him in. He has large ravens tattooed on his abs, and ink scattered almost everywhere. My hands touch his lower stomach as my thumb rubs the outline of the ravens. He doesn’t stop me, simply lets me explore the art on his body, when suddenly his cock twitches. My eyes find his as he sits back up. His hands find my breasts, and he cups them before he plays with my nipple, squeezing it and rolling it between his fingers as if he has all the time in the world. My hips start moving again as I use our clothing as friction against my already sensitive clit, and now I can’t stop them. The pressure is becoming too much.Heis becoming too much.
