6. Silas

6

SILAS

C lara takes another sip of her wine, her throat moving as she swallows. The candlelight dances across her features, casting shadows that only enhance her beauty. My grip tightens on my glass as I shift in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position with my cock tenting my pants.

"What fascinates you most about psychology?" I lean forward, genuinely curious about her answer.

"The darkness that lies beneath the surface." Her eyes meet mine. "How people hide their true nature."

My pulse quickens. "And what's your true nature, Clara?"

She traces the rim of her wine glass with her finger. "I'm drawn to things I shouldn't be. Dangerous things."

I adjust my position again, watching her every movement. "We all have desires we keep hidden."

"Do we?" She raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

The waiter arrives with our entrees, breaking the intensity of the moment. Clara cuts into her steak, the knife gliding through with precision, making my breath catch.

"Tell me about your work in finance," she says, but I can see how her chest rises and falls rapidly, betraying her attempt at casual conversation.

"Numbers are predictable. People are more... interesting." I take a slow drink of my wine, maintaining eye contact. "Especially people who understand the appeal of darkness."

Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth. The tension crackles between us like electricity, and I grip my thigh under the table to maintain control.

"Are you always this intense?" she whispers.

"Only with someone worth the effort." I shift again, watching a blush spread across her cheeks.

"Do you date much?" I lean back, already knowing the answer from months of surveillance. Her laptop camera has shown me countless nights of solitude, broken only by her fingers between her thighs as she watches masked men online.

"Not really." Clara dabs her lips with her napkin. "Work keeps me busy. This is a nice break from... everything."

Everything. The murders. The investigation. The darkness calls to her even as my goddess pretends to fight it. My cock throbs as I imagine her discovering who I am, seeing the recognition in those beautiful green eyes when she realizes I'm the one she's been hunting.

I am her salvation. Her gateway to embracing what she truly is. These other men, these pathetic creatures who've tried to court her—they could never understand her the way I do. They don't deserve to breathe the same air as her.

"Sometimes we need a break from reality." I trace my finger along the stem of my wine glass, imagining it's her throat. "To explore other... possibilities."

The flush deepens on her cheeks. She has no idea that every reaction, every subtle shift in her expression, feeds my need to possess her completely, to own her mind, body, and soul.

"What possibilities did you have in mind?" Her voice trembles, sending electricity through my veins.

Sweet, innocent Clara. Playing with fire, unaware that she's already been marked for consumption. Soon, she'll know what it's like to surrender to a real monster.

But patience. Control. I must maintain the facade a little longer. Let her think she has a choice in what's coming.

"That depends entirely on what you're willing to explore." I give her my practiced smile, the one that's lured countless others to their doom. But Clara—Clara is different. She's not prey. She's my fucking destiny. The goddess to sit beside me for all eternity.

I guide Clara to my car, pressing my hand against the small of her back. Every touch, every casual brush of skin feels electric. Her perfume intoxicates me—vanilla with something else, amber maybe—just like her.

"I had a wonderful time," she says, her voice breathy.

I open the passenger door, watching her slide into the leather seat. The hem of her dress rides up her thigh, and my cock stirs at the flash of skin. Closing the door, I take a deep breath. Control. Restraint. Not yet.

When I settle into the driver's seat, Clara's hand finds my thigh. The touch ignites a fire in my blood. I turn to face her, and she leans in, pressing her lips against mine.

Fuck. The taste of her—wine and desire and something uniquely Clara. My hands thread through her hair, gripping tight enough to make her gasp. The sound echoes through my mind like a prayer.

"Fuck, you're perfect," I growl against her mouth. And she is. My perfect creation, my destiny.

Clara climbs into my lap, straddling me. Her dress bunches around her waist as she grinds against my erection. My hands slide up her thighs, finding the lace of her panties. She moans into my mouth, and I devour the sound.

This is what I've waited for. Watched for. The moment she gives herself over to the darkness inside her. To me. Her true savior.

I break the kiss to bite her neck, marking her as mine. She throws her head back, offering herself to me like a sacrifice. My cock throbs painfully against my zipper as she rocks against me.

"Please," she whimpers.

The word sends a surge of power through me. Yes, beg. Show me how much you need this—need me. I'm the only one who can give you what you crave. The only one who sees the real you.

My fingers dig into her hips hard enough to bruise. Mine. Mine. Mine. Each rock of her body against mine is a symphony of surrender.

I break away from the kiss, every cell in my body screaming in protest. Clara's lips are swollen, her chest heaving against mine. The scent of her arousal fills the car, making my cock twitch. But no. Not yet. Everything has to happen as planned.

"I should get you home." My voice comes out rougher than intended.

Clara blinks, awareness creeping into her lust-filled eyes. A delicious blush spreads across her cheeks as she scrambles off my lap, nearly hitting her head on the car's roof.

"Oh God." She smooths her dress down, avoiding my gaze. "I'm so sorry. I don't normally... I mean, I've never..."

I adjust myself in my pants, hiding my smirk as her eyes dart to the movement. "Don't apologize. You're magnificent."

She settles back into her seat, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. The silence stretches between us as I start the car, thick with unspoken desire. Clara keeps her thighs pressed tightly together, and I know she's soaked through her panties.

"I feel like such an idiot," she whispers. "Throwing myself at you like that."

I reach over and squeeze her thigh. "Trust me, Clara. We'd still be kissing if I didn't have an early meeting tomorrow."

The lie slides easily off my tongue. I want to drag this out, making her desperate for me. When I finally take her, she'll be begging for it.

She relaxes slightly at my words, but her embarrassment lingers in how she holds herself. Perfect. Let her think she's the one who lost control. Let her wonder what I think of her.

I drive through the snowy streets, my body thrumming with satisfaction. Everything is proceeding as planned.