The Black Silk

Chapter 16🖤✨️

Slowly and steadily his hands continued their journey, gliding across my stomach in a soothing rhythm that made my nerves hum with anticipation and gave me little relief from the ach. 

What a bliss!  I don't want to remove his hands from me.

Every stroke of his hand was tender yet commanding, grounding me and pulling me further into the haze he created. His fingers mapped every curve of my waist, their touch sending sparks of heat coursing through me like fire spreads with the help of gasoline.

 I heaved like I had ran a marathon. His little hand movements did a good damage though.

 Slowly, his movements grew bolder, his hands inching upward again, their destination clear.

I desperately tried to keep my gasp and reactions under control. But my body betrayed me at every turn and swish of his hand.

My Fucking!! Body!! Left me at his mercy. Fucking traitor of this body.

His other hand,  traveled upwards like a serpent, until his tattooed palm rested over my breast, cupping it possessively them like a squishy ball. His thumb and forefinger found my nipple, now hardened to a peak, and he began to tease it with maddening precision. Tugging, rolling, pinching—each movement was a calculated assault on my senses, leaving me breathless and desperate. 

I threw all the caution away to the wind. Duty, fear, and responsibility lay at my feet like a trampled carpet. My body arched further into his body as if he was the missing piece of my puzzle, and I gasped, the sound barely escaping my lips. 

My hands clutched the curtain until my knuckles turned white, but it was a futile attempt to anchor myself in the whirlwind of emotions, sensations, and reactions he was eliciting from me. The ache at my waist, once so prominent, faded into the background, overtaken by the growing intensity of his touch. Taken place by a carnal desire in my fiery pit of a stomach bubbling like a volcanic lava. That simple act of his fingers exploring, teasing, and claiming me had me melting into him, my barriers crumbling faster than I could rebuild them.

Emboldened by my response, he started kneading and molding my breast, the roughness of his palm contrasted deliciously against my sensitive skin. His thumb circled my nipple, and when his fingers tugged sharply, a soft moan slipped from my lips, unbidden.

His fireworks appeared in the darkness where my light was extinguished. It was his touch, breathe, sound and that mouth watering scent on him and that sinner of a body of his. Those were fireworks caused by him.

I am absolutely sure that it never happened in the past and will not be happening soon again. He destroyed me for any other man just by his touch. 

His roaming hand slipped inside my yoga pants. His fingers splayed out, possessive and firm, pressing into the soft skin there as if to remind me that I was entirely at his mercy. His hand moved with almost predatory patience, exploring the curve of my hip and lingering at the edge of where fabric met bare skin. My breath hitched, the anticipation coiling tighter with every passing second.

His thumb brushed a teasing path along the sensitive dip of my ass, the pressure of the rough texture leaving a delicious taste on my nerves. Every touch was purposeful, as though he was memorizing me, claiming every inch as his own.  

Suddenly realizing the situation we were in and the condition I was in. With all my strength that was left, I stopped his hand. Holding his solid and muscled wrist and my voice betraying the daze he had me locked in,

"It's a bloody mess down there, you might wanna stop here." I meekly whispered, but it came more like a heaving breath was talking to him.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot and uneven against my neck, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. 

"Do you know what you do to me?" he murmured, his voice rough and dripping with intent. 

"I do not care whatever happens down there. IT. IS. ALL. MINE. You are mine. No 'bloody' thing can stop me from having what is mine, has been mine, and will be mine." 

His hand, now fully beneath the fabric of my pants, slid lower, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that were both maddeningly gentle and irresistibly firm. The slight pressure of his hand, the way it moved with such confidence and purpose, had me teetering on the edge of coherent thought. My own hands gripped at his forearms, desperate for an anchor as the tension built, each touch more intoxicating than the last.

Oh My God!!! Oh! My! God! He is really going down me. He. Really. Is. I must have traded my soul with a devil to allow this, but I might have fallen hard for this Handsome sinner, right here. 

Right behind me. Covering me, Destroying me, Rebuilding me, Breaking me, Reshaping me.

Every inch of his touch spoke of a carnal desire carefully reined in, a hunger he was intent on unleashing one painstaking second at a time. My breathing grew ragged, my chest rising and falling in rhythm with his as his lips found the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. He placed a kiss there, soft and lingering, before letting his teeth graze the skin ever so slightly, a silent promise of more to come.

"Tell me," he whispered against my skin, his voice a low growl, "what do you want?"

But words had deserted me. My body arched in answer, a silent plea for more, and his low chuckle reverberated against me, a sound filled with both satisfaction and anticipation. His touch, his voice, his presence—they were all-consuming, and I was utterly lost in him.

His hand now hovered over the threshold of my throbbing cunt, still concealed by the flimsy fabric of my a little too tight shorts, which had now clenched around my pussy lips in a death hold, clearly imprinting a camel toe, something which would have obviously embarrassed me had I been in a public setting but now was turning me to a puddle of hot mess. 

His other hand now took my chin in a choke hold, hard. I could feel his fingers burning into the flesh of my cheeks. This forced me to look him defiantly in the eyes. 

There was something so hypnotizing about these particular combination of words and the way his eyes pulled me into him, that made me whisper back "Yes"

"Fuck me raw, Adrian de Luca." 

No sooner had these words left my mouth did something so carnal get unleashed from behind the mask of calmness that Adrian usually wore. He scooped me up in a single thrust and carried me over his shoulder as if I was one of his hunts.