Chapter 2

 The silence since that night tasted like copper and static. Silas hadn't looked at me----not really. He'd navigated the house like a ghost, avoiding the corridors where our paths might cross, treating the memory of him moaning my name into the void of his study as if it were a fever dream.

The void he left in the air between us felt like a physical weight, pressing against my chest every time we shared a room.

"I think we should all go see a movie," my mom(Cassie) said, her voice bright as she smiled through a mouthful of eggs.

Cassie looked at the three of us, her eyes dancing with a domestic sort of happiness. "What do you think?

Silas shifted. For a heartbeat, his brown eyes locked onto mine. My heart didn't just skip; it hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"That's a great idea, honey," Silas replied, though his voice held a gravelly edge. "But don't you have a meeting with a supplier today?"

Cassie froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Oh, shit. That completely skipped my mind. Umm, could you take them for me instead, honey?"

Silas glanced at me again, then toward Lucas. "I guess I can. My schedule is free today, so yes."

Cassie beamed, leaning over to peck him on the lips before sliding out of her chair. "You're a lifesaver!"

She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving a vacuum of tension at the table. Silas turned his gaze to Lucas. My stepbrother didn't even look up from his phone, his expression one of pure boredom.

"I'm out," Lucas declared. "Going out with friends. I'm not following you guys to the cinema."

The air suddenly felt thin. It was just us. I swallowed hard, the sound of the cutlery  loud in the quiet room. Silas remained neutral, a mask of composure, but his eyes searched mine with an intensity that made my thighs press together.

"Amaya."

The way he said my name----low, vibrating, a command and a plea all at once----sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. My pussy throbbed, a sudden, insistent ache.

"Yes, daddy?"

"Do you still have interest in going to the cinema with me?"

I forced a casual shrug, though my skin felt too tight for my body. "Sure, no problem."

I smiled and stood up abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the tile. I wasn't done eating, but the hunger in my stomach had nothing to do with food. I needed my rose toy. I needed to stifle the fire between my legs before I did something reckless in the middle of the living room.

Oh God.. what is this man doing to me.

The theater was a cavern of velvet and artificial darkness. A few people were sitted closer to the screen leaving us with an empty back row, I settled into the back row at the left, the scent of Silas's cologne----cedar, black pepper, and something metallic----filling my lungs. It didn't calm me; it acted like gasoline on a spark. He gave me a small, warm smile as the opening credits rolled, but the movie was nothing more than a blur of light and sound.

My body felt electric, every nerve ending screaming. This was the only window. I sat rigid, my short skirt riding up, exposing the pale expanse of my thighs. My thoughts foggy, i have to make my move now. This might be the only chance i could get but before i could act.

A heavy, warm weight landed on my leg. Silas's hand rested there, his palm broad and calloused. A shiver raced up my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"You look tensed," he whispered.

His breath brushed against the shell of my ear, hot and humid. He sounded concerned, but the way his fingers dug slightly into my flesh betrayed him. He didn't move his hand.

We stayed still for a while but my body seemed to betray me, I didn't think. I acted. I placed my hand over his, my fingers interlacing with his, and slowly guided his palm upward. I pushed his hand higher, moving it past the hem of my skirt, gliding it toward the damp heat of my entrance.

Silas stiffened. He looked at me, his brow furrowed in a silent question, but beneath the confusion, I saw the hunger. It was a mirror of my own. I didnt stop, i guided him further, pressing his fingers against the thin, soaked fabric of my panties.

A sharp moan escaped my lips. Silas's breathing hitched, becoming jagged.

"Amaya... this is wrong," he muttered.

His voice was a ghost of a protest, lacking any real conviction. I leaned closer, my lips almost touching his ear.

"I want it."

The admission broke the dam. His huge hand clamped over my pussy, massaging me through the fabric with a sudden, possessive hunger. I threw my head back against the seat, my body arching. I'd spent days imagining this, and the reality was a violent explosion of pleasure. I slipped a finger beneath the waistband of my panties, shifting the lace aside to rub my clit in frantic, circular motions.

Silas kept his eyes fixed on the screen, his face a mask of stoicism while his other hand found my breast. He squeezed the plump flesh hard, his thumb pinning my nipple through the fabric of my top, pinching and rolling it until I gasped.

He turned to me then, his eyes dark with a primal need. He pulled me into a kiss that tasted of desperation. His tongue invaded my mouth, sucking and swirling against mine, exchanging saliva in a wet, messy rhythm. Before I could breathe, he slid two fingers deep inside me.

I let out a loud, guttural moan. I didnt care anymore about who was watching us, this felt like heaven, the heaven i have always fantasized about. Silas reacted instantly, slamming his palm over my mouth to stifle the sound. He didn't stop; he pumped his fingers into me, the sound of shlicking and squelching drowned out by the movie's soundtrack. I was drowning in him.

He shifted his hand from my mouth back to my breast, hiking my top up to expose my skin to the cool theater air.

"Your tits turn me on," he whispered, his voice a ragged growl. "I want all of you."

He buried his face in my chest, his mouth engulfing my breast. He sucked the nipple deep into his mouth, biting and pulling, while his fingers continued to fuck my pussy, rubbing my clitoris with a rhythmic, punishing pressure. I clamped my hand over my own mouth, muffled whimpers escaping as the friction built into a crescendo.

My hand wandered down ready to give him the same pleasure he is given me, finding the hard, straining bulge in his jeans. I felt the heat radiating through the denim. I reached for his zipper, sliding it down with a metallic hiss, and freed him.

His cock sprang out, ten inches of rigid, pulsing heat. It stared at me, the tip glistening with pre--cum. I stared back greedily, my breath coming in short, shallow pants. I wrapped my fingers around the shaft, stroking him slowly at first, then increasing the pace, my grip tight and demanding.

Our eyes locked. Silas was begging, his pupils blown wide, his jaw clenched. I shifted my position, turning to face him, and let my tongue lap at the crown of his head.

Silas let out a loud, guttural groan, his fingers accelerating inside me, hitting my cervix with every thrust. I was oblivious to the other people in the theater, the world shrinking down to the smell of sex and the sound of our labored breathing.

"Fast, Amaya! Faster!" he yelled, his voice a strangled command.

I increased the pace of my tongue and hand, swirling around the head of his cock. A wave of heat crashed over me, and I let out a muffled scream into his thigh, climaxing for the third time in a violent surge of contractions.

 At that exact moment, Silas stiffened, a loud groan ripping from his throat as he came, pumping thick, hot loads of cum directly into my mouth.

We collapsed back into the seats, chests heaving, the air between us thick with the scent of spent desire.

"What have I done?" he muttered, his voice hollow and filled with a sudden, crushing guilt. He didnt look at me, just looked straight ahead.

I didn't answer. I just turned to him and smiled, a slow, predatory curve of my lips. He thought this was a mistake, but I knew better. This was just the beginning. I needed. I wanted that cock inside me, and I always got what I wanted.