Page 49 of Silver Sinner

The flush across her cheeks darkens and she chews her lower lip into her mouth. "Honestly, I kind of thought you were doing a fancy play on words."

"I was. In truth, Layla, I want to give you a taste of the peace you've brought to me over the years." I lean closer and lightly clasp her chin between my thumb and forefinger. "I want to take you apart piece by piece. I want to give you a taste of the pleasure you've denied yourself all these years. I want to show you how a real man takes care of his woman and leave you unable to walk out of here because there is no sensation left in your thighs."

She swallows audibly. "Why?"

My brows twitch. "Why?"

"Why me? I-I mean… look at you. You could have anyone you wanted. Anyone at all. And look at me. I'm…" Her breath catches in her throat. "I don't understand."

"Is it because you do not believe you are desirable? Or is it something else?"

Layla's eyes sparkle slightly and her voice drops to a whisper. "I don't know."

"You, Layla, are the kindest, most sincere, beautiful person I have ever met. My life is filled with traitors and backstabbers, everyone primed for something terrible and hiding their true nature. You are refreshingly honest and I adore that. I want to show you how much I love that." And if she grows completely pliant, then she'll be much more open to answering my questions. I just have to get her there first.

"I feel like I'm going to cry," Layla whispers and she blinks quickly. "This doesn't feel real."

"It is real. Let me show you how real this is. Do you trust me?"

After a second of thought, she nods and I release her chin.

"Then come with me." I hold out my hand and Layla takes it immediately. Her eyes widen while I lead her through the apartment to my bedroom. It's as large as the lounge, with a full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows shadowed for privacy. My large bed sits in the center, covered in black silk sheets with a high headboard, and the rest of the black furniture around the room splits the two doorways; one leading to the en suite and the other to my closet.

"Wow," Layla scoffs. "This place is as big as like… three rooms in my place."

"Too big?"

"I'd make a joke about you compensating for something but…" Her eyes flick down to my waist. "I know that's not true."

Even now, she remains endearing to me, and I gently squeeze her hand. "I want you to take your clothes off."

The ripple of tension through Layla is unmistakable, and I catch her glancing at the light switch. "Now?"

"Yes." Releasing her hand, I stand in front of her. "If you are comfortable, I want you to take your clothes off for me. I've seen and tasted every inch of you already, my cock throbs at the thought of your pussy, and I will also take my own clothes off. But I want you to take them off because I want you to understand that every inch of you, every curve and soft rise and part that you would hide behind cushions, is a part that I see and want to worship."

A soft scoff comes from Layla and her fingers twist together at her abdomen. "You make it sound so easy… but it kind of terrifies me."

"I know. But I know you can be brave. Think of it this way." I lift my hand and tease my fingers along the buttons of my shirt. "Do you want to see under my shirt again?"

Her wide eyes dart down and she nods quickly. "Yes."

"Then I will copy you."

It takes a few seconds for it to really click with Layla, but she doesn't fully understand until I start mirroring her movements. She starts with her shoes and I copy, then her socks are next. She hesitates when it comes to the rest of her clothes and tries to bypass my game by slipping her hands under her t-shirt and unhooking her bra, but I match her by simply unbuttoning my shirt and leaving it hanging around my body.

Her eyes narrow playfully and she grows more daring. She unbuttons her jeans and I unbutton my slacks. She lifts her t-shirt an inch and I mirror her. Then, with a deep breath, she pulls her t-shirt over her head and lets it drop to the floor. My shirt follows. Her eyes wander my body with the same heat that I admire hers. I want to draw her in my arms and bury my face in her breasts, tease her pink nipples until they stand to attention and ache for me the same way my hardening cock is aching for her.

Layla's trembling ever so slightly, and her arms move as if she's wrestling to cover herself up.

"You're beautiful," I murmur softly. "I will show you that."

She lifts her chin, almost in defiance, then slides her jeans down and steps out of them. I follow with my slacks and her eyeline locks onto my boxers. The black fabric hugs the outline of my stiff cock and her lips part.

"See?" I murmur. "I'm this hard just from looking at you. Just from being around you. Trust that I desire every gorgeous inch of you.”

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Layla says with a soft, nervous laugh. She hooks her fingers around the hem of her panties, slides them down her gorgeous, thick thighs, and kicks them away. I mirror her with my boxers, allowing my cock to jut out proudly and curve down slightly. The tip glistens, beading with pre-cum as my mind races with the feverish heat of desire.

"Wow." Her cheeks blush dark. "I felt it inside me but I didn't realize I never actually saw it until now."