Playing Dangerous

XVIII

Tate's POV...

I'm constantly changing sides, I can't stop thinking about him with that girl and whatever fucked up thing he did for me. I feel guilty. I feel horrible. And those thoughts won't let me sleep, won't let me have my peace.

Someone bangs on my door like a crazy. Who the hell is here? I grab my knife from nightstand and slowly open the door. There's Silas leaning against the doorframe, heavily breathing, his hair is a mess, his face is a mess, blood dripping from his lip. His eyes level up.

He looks like he's in a pain.

"What are you doing here? What do you want Silas? What happened?" I sigh at the view of him. He checks me out from head to toe. "You said enough with your silence earlier, so what do you want, Silas? What?"

His eyes are on my mouth as he breathes in and out laboriously and whispers. "You." And then his mouth is on mine. I'm against the wall and his hands are on my neck. "I want you."

"Stop it," he kisses me again. "Stop Silas! Wait!" My knife is at his throat, pushing him against the opposite wall. I breathe out, still shocked, still stunned. "What the hell are you doing? What was that?! Stop it already!"

"And if I won't stop? What are you going to do? Cut my throat with that knife?" His sleepy eyes are sharp on mine, almost terrifying.

"Try and find out." I threaten.

He leans in again, grabbing my waist and widening my mouth with his tongue. I kiss him hard, greedily. "Silas stop! You'll quit it before I'll send you to hell."

"I guess I just got invite to your bed," smirk draws at the corner of his mouth, his eyes still on my lips. Air is hot and dense and nonexistent in this place. We breathe each other's exhalations and somehow are greedy for it. I'm losing my mind already.

"I'm not one of your toys to speak to me like that." I press my blade harder, cutting his skin a little. My eyes are like huge fire balls while his are serene and calm like a forest.

"You'll cut my throat or we'll finish whatever we started. When you got jealous... I was ready to risk it all, you still are jealous." I can't hesitate, no more and let him kiss me, smash me against the hard surface behind. My knife appears behind his neck and as the kiss begins to be more intense and aggressive I drop it.

"I'm not!" My hands snuck around his neck while he holds my waist and back of my head sternly. We are wild with each of our movement, with each kiss or bite of lip. Our tongues dance together as we melt into each other's bodies. "I want you. Only you." He barely utters.

"But you hate me," I remind him.

"You hate me as well," Kent says between kisses. "That doesn't mean we can't have each other."

"Goddamn your smart mouth," I curse under my breathe and arch my back against the wall.

"My mouth is capable of so much more." Oh, I know. And I admire it. "You have me wrapped around your finger." Then his hands fall on the buttons of my pajama.

"Wait," I breathe. I'm panting, already exhausted from his presence and pace and everything. He's everything and everywhere. Giving me his everything and I hate that I love it.

Our eyes meet and without single word he asks for consent and I give him a little nod. I try to be strong, but my body betrays me mercilessly. "There's nothing to be jealous, I'm all yours." Then I pull his head closer, kissing him hard enough to make him bite my lower lip. I gasp and turn my head away. He takes the opportunity to kiss my neck as I let myself breathe and gasp and moan, my lips parting as I struggle to regain normal breathing.