Only the first few strokes were slow.
After that, he drove into me with hard, fast strokes, and I arched into him, wanting all of him, as deeply as I could have him.
"I can't get enough of you," he said.
I pulled myself against him, tightening my legs around him and guiding him in more deeply, my head too clouded with desire to even utter a word in response. I wanted him melded against me.
I wanted everything he had.
I couldn't think of anything except how his cock felt inside me, the sensation of his skin against mine, the way his breath felt warm on my neck.
"More, Silas," I gasped. It was all I could say.
More.
My words spurred him on, and he fucked me harder, bringing me higher and higher like I was riding an ocean wave that was about to crest. I buried my head in his shoulder and clung to him, my nails digging into his skin as he drove his cock deeper inside me.
"Tempest," Silas said, his voice barely more than a growl. "Come for me before I fucking explode."
His words pushed me over the edge and I cried out his name as I came, feeling him crash into me.
Afterward, I sat with my legs wrapped around him and my head on his chest, my entire body still trembling from my orgasm. We stayed like that, nearly motionless for what seemed like an eternity as our breathing returned to normal.
My ear against his chest, I listed to the thumping of his heart. It made me feel calm. "Your heart sounds like it's going to explode," I said.
Silas stroked my hair. "You're making me feel like an old man," he said.
"What?" I looked up at him. "Neither of us are old."
"You're going to give me a damn heart attack, though," he said, smiling at me. "With what you're doing to me."
"What am I doing to you, exactly?" I asked, my voice light.
"You're killing me, bright eyes," he said, kissing the side of my neck. "I can't stop thinking about you. Or fucking you. Or thinking about fucking you."
I didn't respond. I wanted to be honest, to tell him that I felt the same way.
I was torn between my instinct to run away and my desire to stay.
Silas picked me up again. "Hang on," he said. "I'm taking you back to the bedroom. Where you belong."
I laughed, but kept my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, only stepping down when he reached the bedroom.
"Standing up?" he asked. "I was going to put you right into bed."
"Oh yeah?" I said. "You think you've got that much stamina, old man? You were just whining about how I wore you out."
Silas reached for my ass and I dodged his hand, jumping onto the soft mattress and landing with a bounce. He scrambled up onto the bed after me, pulling me onto my side facing him.
"I might need a minute to catch my breath, Tempest," he said. "But there's no chance in hell that you're going to wear me out."
I trailed my hand over his chest, my eyes taking in every inch of him, trying to memorize every ripple of his muscles, the tattoos that covered his skin. I was sure that, like mine, each picture had a story, and it made me think about how much of his life I'd missed.
How many stories he had that didn't include me.
"You know if I stayed, I'd wear you out," I said.
I wasn't talking about sex, and we both knew it.
Silas caught my wrist, holding it still. "Look at me," he said.
"Silas," I warned. But I looked in his eyes, despite my heart's rapid flutter, the fear that pumped through my veins.
The fear of being known.
"You think you've changed, Tempest," he said. "Or that the fact that what happened with your parents means that nothing is the same between us."
"Silas, you and I both know that you finding out who I was - that my parents and I were liars-changed everything."
"That's bullshit," he said. "You felt what I did in Vegas. The same heat that was there in Vegas is between us now."
"It's chemistry, Silas," I said. "That's all it is."
Silas narrowed his eyes and looked at me for a long time. I feared I had hurt him with my words and wanted to take them back.
I had to convince myself it was just chemistry between us and nothing more. What else could there be?
"That's all you think this is?" Silas asked, clenching his jaw. "No bullshit, Tempest. For once, be honest with me. Do you truly think that's all there is between us? Good sex and nothing more?"
"This isn't a damn fairytale, Silas," I said. "I'm a con artist. My parents are con artists. There are no happy endings for people like me. This isn't a movie. There's no riding off into the sunset."
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he said, letting go of my wrist and sliding his hand around my waist, to rest on the small of my back. "I think you're lying to yourself right now, Tempest."
I suddenly felt claustrophobic, like I couldn't breathe. I put my palm to his chest and pushed him away. I wanted to run.
"Some kids play soccer and take ballet lessons," I said. "I grew up learning how to pickpocket and count cards. I lie. I cheat people. I steal from them."