Silva

Chapter Eleven

• Irisa •

—

He's doing it on purpose. Hot circles on my inner thigh, trapped grip around my neck, and a pinning gaze—I move, he restricts; the warning can't be clearer.

His fingers give mindless traces on my thigh and nudge the edge of my panties.

I never thought this would happen. How did it go from a police officer knocking on my door to this?

"Wait—"

"Quiet," he hisses into my ear, his breath hitting my throbbing temple. "Do you want to be caught?"

My cheeks burn as embarrassment seizes my heart. The soaked panties scrape roughly over my swollen clit, sticky juices dripping out of my tiny hole as his calloused fingers clamp down the quivering muscles.

My knees jerk, but his hand stops them from slamming close. Silva chuckles, so scornfully soft that a thick drop of slick slithers through my twitching cunt.

His hand suspends between a patch of quivering skin and a pair of drenched panties. He's waiting, judging with a faint growl in his wide chest as it tingles down my spine.

"Miss Irisa? Are you in there?" the woman, I recall Officer Norine, shouts through the front door.

The loudness startles me, and my thighs break away his suffocating hold to close them. It drags his big hand, trapping and forcing those strong fingers to slip into my underwear. My squishy folds rub against his hand, smearing glossy slick on his skin.

He slaps the other hand over my mouth, shoving the moan deep into my throat. A conscious effort is made when I stop my hips from grinding on his palm to bring relief to my sensitive clit.

"What are you doing?" he questions gravely.

The ambiguity behind his words renders me helpless in his arms as it confuses me. He inches down to drag his hot tongue over the stinging bite, and successfully eviscerating the humiliation in my churning stomach.

My sodden pussy pulses with mortification.

"I don't want to hear a sound from you," he commands threateningly.

His words make it through the buzzing ears too late; his fingers are already petting my soft folds.

I'm wet, and I could feel the easy slide of his finger flicking the sensitive bud. Kaleidoscopic stars flare behind my closed eyes. Scalding heat seeps into my back as his chest rumbles with a laugh.

I swallow dryly with uncertainty looming over me, counting the seconds between hesitant heartbeats as his big finger circles my puffy clit.

"My dirty little girl," he whispers.

A longing mewl throttles in my throat, soft like it's not supposed to be there yet it fits in my mouth.

His fingers pinch the slippery bud, teasingly rough to coerce an unwilling shiver to dive between my thighs. Another thick drop of slick rushes through my slightly parted folds, my leg perching over his strong thigh and spreading further when he shifts.

His big cock throbs at the bottom of my spine. I remember noticing just how big he is by feeling him on my back, and part of me doesn't want to think about it.

Anticipation trembles in my stomach, climbing with twisting steps as the coil tightens more. The pad of his finger strokes stickiness down my slit, abandoning my sodden clit to circle the tight ring of my leaking hole.

The way my body trembles weakly in his arms, whining for his attention and relishing the sparks of pleasure riding under my skin—I don't tell him to stop.