Locked in Silence: Grimm's Circle, Book 5

by Shiloh Walker

  Her head fell, the tumbled brown silk of her curls shielding her face from him.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  She jerked her head up, stared at him, eyes dark and wild and wide. He tightened his hold on her wrists and she jerked against his hands.

  When he didn’t let go, an array of emotions ran through her eyes—everything from fear to hunger to nerves to excitement, even the edge of shame and guilt. Dipping his head, he raked his teeth over her neck. “What do you hunger for, Vanya? Can you tell me?”

  “Silence…” Her body burned, blistered hot against his. “Damn it, would you just take me, please? I’m dying…”

  “Take you how?”

  She stilled. Once more she jerked against the hold he had on her wrists. Her breathing hitched in her throat, raspy, shallow. He pushed his thigh between hers. She was hot, hungry…so wet he could smell it and it was killing him.

  He heard her swallow and then she looked up at him, her cheeks flushed hot—embarrassment, excitement…both… “However you want. However you want…”

  “What about what you want?” He cupped her cheek, stared down at her. “What you saw earlier—is that what you what? Do you want me to give you that?”

  Vanya shuddered. Then she licked her lips and whispered, “Yes.”

  “How much like that do you want it? How far do I go?”

  She dropped her head against his chest, her hands gripping his waist, kneading his flesh restlessly. “I…hell. I want it as hard, as fast, as rough as you want to give it to me. As far as you want to go. Just…I don’t think I’d want actual pain. I mean real pain. A little, I don’t mind, but…”

  Silence cupped her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers. “As if I could ever truly harm you.”

  As those words echoed through her mind, Vanya’s breath hitched. She sighed into his mouth then pulled back.

  He rubbed his thumb over her mouth, so gentle. “You are certain.”

  She swallowed then nodded. “What we saw earlier, at the club…I…ah, I want that.”

  Silence stilled. It was a complete stillness, one that fell over him so completely, he could have been carved from marble. Only the glitter of his eyes showed that he lived.

  Then, slowly, he trailed a hand up her side, cupped her cheek. “You want it. Truly.”

  “Yes.”

  Still moving with inexorable slowness, he pushed his hand into her hair, twining the short curls around his fingers. “I will not harm you, Vanya. I swear it.”

  Vanya smiled nervously. “I know.”

  He smiled, feathered a fingertip across one brow. “If I do something that is too much, I want you to say chocolate. I will stop.”

  “Chocolate?” She blinked, confused.

  “Chocolate…the first time I saw your eyes, I thought of dark, melted chocolate.”

  “Oh, that’s—”

  Her breath caught in her lungs as he whirled her around and forced her flat over the counter.

  Her heart skipped a beat. The icy-cold marble pressed her breasts flat. His hands, brutal and hard, gripped her hips, jerked her back against him. She felt him pump against her ass, felt his leather-clad thighs against hers. Thrown off balance, she went to push up on to her elbows, but before she could, he caught her arms, pinned her wrists at the base of her spine. “Be still,” he ordered.

  She shuddered.

  She felt the brush of his cock against her ass. Instinctively, she went to widen her thighs, but Silence caught her legs and held them penned together with his own. “I said be still,” he repeated again. Then he rested a hand on the curve of her ass, stroking lightly. “You didn’t listen—”

  Vanya opened her mouth. “I’m sor—”

  He spanked her.

  She caught her breath, shocked.

  When he did it a second time, she cried out and jerked against his hands. Twisting her head around, she stared at him, shuddering, shaking—oh, fuck, he’d spanked her—

  Their gazes locked. He rested his palm on the curve of her ass—waited. Just waited.

  And she knew why.

  To see if she’d say it, to see if she’d make him stop.

  Hell no.

  Deliberately, she jerked against his hands. “Damn it.” Then, in case that wasn’t enough, she once more tried to spread her thighs.

  He spanked her again, staring into her eyes. She moaned and let her head fall back against the cool marble counter. The hot, burning sensation spread through her body—made every last nerve ending so sensitive, putting her body on red alert.

  She could feel the throbbing length of his cock nestled against her butt, and she was tempted to rub against him, but she worried if she did, he might withhold that from her, and she wasn’t about to risk that—she was so hot, so burningly ready.

  “Maybe now you’ll be still for me,” he said after one final, hard spank.

  Not likely, she thought. But she’d wait until he was inside her…

  She felt the head of his cock probing against her entrance. With her thighs pressed together, it wasn’t as easy, but she didn’t dare try to spread them, anything to ease his entrance. And as he started to push inside, she whimpered, her breath catching—oh, that felt…amazing.

  He let go of her wrists, and automatically and she went to push up on to her elbows, but she didn’t have the chance. Two seconds later, he had one wrist in each hand, pinning them on either side of her head. She lifted her head, met his gaze in the mirror.

  His hands loosened a bit and she jerked against his hold.

  He smiled at her. “Do you want to fight me?”

  She whimpered. Blood rushed to her face. Oh, shit. This was…hell. She hadn’t ever imagined acting out a fantasy like this, not for real.

  Licking her lips, she gave him a jerky nod. Then she moaned as he pulled away.

  “Turn around then.”

  She turned, faced him.

  “Remember how to bring this to a stop,” he reminded her.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He still wore the leather pants, opened to expose his cock, thick and hard, wet from her. He looked…hot—so hot. And he stared at her with that remote, unreadable expression—the look of Silence.

  It didn’t change as he reached out, caught her wrists.

  She jerked back.

  It didn’t stop him.

  She struggled harder, panting a little. She went to kick him and he shifted, stepped—two seconds later she was on the floor with him on top of her.

  An image flashed through her mind—from the club, the man stretched out over the woman, having his way with her seemingly resistant body. Vanya’s instinct was to kick at him, but instead, she kept her legs clenched together, using only her hands and arms to shove at him, push, shove and even punch before he caught her wrists, penned them overhead.

  Against her pussy, she felt the heated length of his cock, throbbing and hard.

  “Spread your legs,” he told her.

  “No.”

  “Do it.”

  She sneered at him. “Make me.”

  He forced a knee between them, wedged himself in the cradle of her hips and shoved inside—it was hard and brutal, and she screamed at the abrupt, dark pleasure. His head came down, his mouth crushing against hers as he swallowed her scream.

  She took a few seconds to enjoy the kiss and then she jerked her head away, as though she couldn’t stand his kiss.

  “You opened your legs for me…I’ll make you take my kisses too.”

  Looking back at him, she deliberately brought her thighs as close together as she could, clenching them tight, resisting his rough, deep penetration. It was enough to bring a cry to her lips, but she kept it behind her teeth.

  “That feels just as good, you know,” he told her, rolling his hips against her.

  Actually, it felt better—amazing. Her clit throbbed, burned. For a second, she forgot the game and just wanted to touch herself. She jerked against his hands and then stilled as
he tightened his hold in response.

  “Let my hands go,” she snarled.

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Silence.”

  He dipped his head and bit her lip. “Why?”

  She swore, struggled harder, arched up to grind her hips against him, seeking some contact, any contact that might ease the ache in her clit.

  She saw the flare of understanding in his eyes. He shifted, his weight pressing harder on the hands he held pinned over her head as he reached between them with his free hand and started to stroke her clit. “I’m going to make you come. Whether you want to or not,” he told her.

  “No,” Vanya choked out. Even as her mind screamed, Yes.

  “You’ll come. Hard and fast.”

  Hard and fast—that’s how he rode her, that’s how he touched her, and still her climax eluded her.

  All but sobbing in frustration, she gave a mighty jerk against his hold, managed to free her hands. Raking her nails down his arms, she twisted her hips against his, almost blind, all but deaf—

  She needed to come, hurt with the need…

  Silence rose, with her still impaled on his cock.

  She moaned and arched, rubbing herself against him as he carried her out of the bathroom.

  In the bedroom, he pulled away and bent her over the bed. It was a higher bed, the kind that left her feet dangling about two inches above the floor. She started to push up, but he put his hand on her neck, held her still as he shoved back inside her.

  With one hand holding her head to the bed, and the other hand on her hips, she lay there, bent over and exposed for his pleasure—unable to find her own…it seemed.

  Then he reached around and pinched her clit. Squeezed.

  Vanya’s eyes flew wide and she shoved upward, backward against him.

  “Be still,” he snarled, his voice a harsh growl in her mind. It was erotic, sexy as hell…

  “Damn it, Silence—”

  He pushed her back down. “Be still.” He squeezed the back of her neck in warning.

  She groaned and squeezed him with her inner muscles. Then she focused on the hand between her thighs, the one teasing and tormenting her clit. That…oh—

  His thumb pressed against her ass.

  Vanya stiffened.

  Slick and wet, he pushed against her, slow and determined.

  Panic fluttered, swelled.

  She pushed upward again. “Silence, don’t…”

  “Come for me, Vanya,” he said, pinching her clit with one hand, forcing the thumb of his other hand deeper inside. And his cock, he rode her deep, hard, burying himself inside her with each stroke.

  She jerked against his hold, thrashed around him.

  “Close your legs again,” he ordered. “I like it that way—you’re so tight and snug…especially when you’re fighting it.”

  Vanya whimpered, already forgetting why she’d been struggling. Bringing her legs close together, she locked them at the ankles.

  “Good girl.”

  He pulled his thumb out, pushed it back it. As the same time, he gave her clit another hard, tight squeeze.

  Oh—

  Silence, holding on to his control by the skin of his teeth, watched as Vanya finally broke through whatever strange compulsion the sex demons had tainted her with.

  She shattered and came, writhing around his cock, squeezing and milking him with exquisite sweetness.

  With a snarl, he crouched over, bracing his hands by either shoulder as he began to pound into her. Her hot, slick walls clutched and squeezed and contracted around him, drawing the agony out.

  It was the sweetest torture.

  It was the most painful form of bliss.

  And when it ended, all he could manage was to sink against her with his head resting on her shoulder as their bodies shook and sweat cooled on their skin.

  They didn’t need sleep…usually.

  But they could sleep, and he was drifting close when he heard her whisper something.

  “I think I’m falling in love with you, Silence…”

  Chapter Seven

  Then…

  This was it, then.

  Dying.

  He lay in a fouled mess of blood, bile, piss and other foulness he did not want to think of, choking on his own blood.

  His entire body hurt. He knew he had never hurt like this. Had not thought it was possible to hurt this way.

  At least he was alone, though.

  Alone.

  It was better for him to be alone. It was safe this way.

  Any time he had ever had another in his life it had led to pain—either imminent or eventual pain.

  Best, he thought, to be alone.

  Forever.

  If only he had learned that lesson earlier.

  Cold, now. So cold.

  As the darkness loomed in closer, as the pain faded, replaced by a strange, gray numbness, he found himself wondering about the man, Will.

  He had not seen him in months, not since that night he had spoken of promises and choices and strange men and secrets.

  Had he been mad?

  Or had he truly known this was coming?

  Dare he make that choice?

  Yes…

  The cold faded. Warmth came. The pain was gone.

  And then there was Will.

  “It will be done soon, my friend. I promise. And I’ll be here with you. You will not be alone.”

  He closed his eyes. No, he did not want to hear that last part.

  Better to be alone.

  Now…

  Fatal error.

  The second the words left her mouth, she’d known it was a problem.

  Silence hadn’t responded—it was as though he hadn’t heard her.

  But she knew he had.

  It was there between them the next morning.

  “So maybe if you’re going to tell a guy you love him, you shouldn’t blurt it out after a bout of rough sex, huh? Or maybe you shouldn’t blurt it out after sex, period.”

  Vanya figured there might have been a better way to broach the subject, but she was tired of it lingering there between them. She wanted it dealt with.

  Silence, though, he didn’t seem to want to deal with anything. He looked up from the axe he was polishing, let their gazes meet for just a minute. Then he focused on the blade again.

  “There is nothing that happened between us last night that you need to worry about.”

  “How about the fact that I said I think I’m falling in love with you? And the fact that it’s wigging you out?”

  “I’m not wigging out,” he replied. “And you are not falling in love with me. You’re young and—”

  Vanya narrowed her eyes. “Don’t,” she said quietly, shoving back from the table.

  He shifted his gaze back to her. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t tell me what I feel,” she said. “I’m old enough to decide I can die so I become one of you, and I’m old enough to decide I can have kinky rape-fantasy sex, and I’m old enough to know if I’m falling in love or not.”

  Irritated and humiliated, she stood and turned away.

  He didn’t have to return her feelings. Damn it, she hadn’t expected him to. But he sure as hell didn’t have to be so damned patronizing, either.

  “Vanya—”

  In the doorway, she paused, looking at him over her shoulder.

  Just looking at him made her heart clench. Just looking at him made her heart hurt, in a good way, though. It also made her body ache and hunger and throb. She’d hesitated before getting up this morning, and not because she’d blurted out something so embarrassing. But because she’d worried she’d feel self-conscious about what had happened. She hadn’t, though.

  She’d stood in the doorway, staring at him.

  It wasn’t until he’d looked at her that she became aware of uncomfortable silence caused by what she’d said…yeah, that made things awkward.

  Staring into his eyes, she knew she hadn’t been lying last nig
ht. If anything, she hadn’t been clear enough. She wasn’t falling in love with him. She was in love with him. She’d been falling in love with him bit by bit, day by day, and she’d known it before he’d brought to life hot, dirty dreams she hadn’t even known she had.

  “I know how I feel, Silence. If you don’t like it, fine. You don’t need to like it, and I’m not expecting you to feel the same way, but don’t tell me I don’t know what I feel,” she said quietly.

  “You’re young. You’re adjusting to a new life, and right now, I’m all you know—”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, bite me.” Then she slammed her mental shields shut, blocking his mental voice out.

  Damn him.

  Slipping into the bedroom, she headed for the shower. She was still logy with exhaustion, but she’d be damned if she stayed around here right now. Later, when the tension wasn’t knife thick, she’d come back. Later, after she’d cooled down, after her body stopped humming every time she looked at him.

  Later…when he stopped looking at her like he feared she’d throw herself at his feet and cling until he produced a wedding ring.

  Of course, there was a problem.

  Standing in the middle of the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, she realized the only clothes she had were in tatters.

  The short skirt had been decidedly trampish, but it had covered her. Now it wouldn’t do that unless she held it in place. The thong wasn’t in much better shape. The one piece of clothing that wasn’t in tatters was her corset, but it wasn’t like she could walk out of here wearing just that.

  She didn’t hear him, but the dance of cooler air along her flesh, along with the intensity of his gaze told her she wasn’t alone.

  Looking up, she saw him standing in the doorway.

  Her lip curled when she saw he had his leather pants on from last night. He, at least, had clothes. And damn him for looking so good in them too.