Christmas Chapter 2
I take a quick shower, washing off the night sweat. I have a packaging job in a soft drink factory, and it’s menial but bearable. The night shifts are killing me, though. When I was younger, flipping my sleep schedule wasn’t an issue, but nowadays, I definitely feel the strain. Even if it’s just three nights a week.
It doesn’t help that the job is indoors. I always preferred to work outside, farming or landscaping, so I hate staying in the huge production hall with blinding white lights and the echoing noises. The factory never sleeps, and it just feels wrong.
But I can take it, mainly because there’s a clear light at the end of the tunnel. As soon as the snow melts, I’ll find a job out in the open. And, well, Silas is already looking around for something to do on the side. Though, this time, we won’t make any powerful enemies who will shoot us in cold blood. We learned our lesson, or as much of it as we could. Because if not even death can turn us into law-abiding citizens, I don’t think anything can.
Besides, Noah was the ambitious one, mainly because he wanted to get Harlow a prosthetic. We’re all on board with doing smaller jobs to supplement the family budget. We’ll be fine. Although we’re still giving it a few more months to really settle in here so no one suspects us.
Warm from the shower, I cross to Harlow’s room, where I know Silas is. I really didn’t want to get the night shift job at first, because I knew he couldn’t sleep without me, but it was the only opening. It was important not just for the money, but for perceptions, too. Four adult people living together, and only one or two working? That looks shady, so we made a point of getting employed as soon as possible.
I didn’t want Harlow to work, though. Ever since that night, I’ve thought about what happened, what we did, and the longer I thought, the more horrible it felt. Looking back at everything in the light of day, I realized Harlow didn’t deserve even half of the things we put her through. It makes me feel horribly guilty, though it’s not the only reason why I do my best to pamper and protect her.
She’s still so innocent and sweet. I know most of what she’s been through, and the thought of her living through any more heartbreak is killing me. But Harlow’s determined to brave the world, and it’s not like I have a right to decide for her.
But that’s fine. If anything happens, if she needs me, I’m right here. I’ll always protect her.
Cold winter light sifts through the curtains, and I grin, hearing Silas’s soft snores. He delivers food, often late in the evenings, so I usually let him sleep in. But we have work to do today since it’s his and Jack’s day off, so I don’t feel bad cutting his beauty sleep short.
I slip under the covers, settling behind him and pressing to his sleep-warm body. Silas mumbles blearily, shifting closer, and that just makes my heart ache a little. He’s the most open in bed, allowing himself the vulnerability he won’t express anywhere else.
“Good morning, baby,” I whisper in his ear, putting my arm around him. I brush my fingers through the hair on his chest. My cock stirs. It’s been so hectic, I didn’t get to fuck for over a week, and the need is overwhelming.
Silas groans, waking up. He stiffens for just a moment until I press a slow kiss to his nape. He sighs, pushing his ass into me, and then makes a surprised noise, because my bare cock is fully hard against him.
“Hey,” he says, voice raspy from sleeping. “How was work?”
“Bearable,” I say truthfully. “How did you sleep?”
“Mmm,” he mumbles, stretching his legs before he hooks one under mine, pulling me closer. “Really well. Harlow kept me company.”
I smile. For all his assurances about the four of us being a family—the kind where people fuck each other—Silas still makes a point of telling me whenever he does something intimate with Harlow or Jack. I don’t think he feels guilty, just unused to having more than one partner.
It’s new to all four of us. In the chaos of moving and setting up our new life here, we didn’t really have enough time or energy to explore this new dynamic. But I know we’ll get there.
“I’m really glad she helps you sleep,” I say, kissing his shoulder. “You can try Jack one night.”
Silas gives a low, raspy laugh that makes my cock buck. He’s deliciously naked, but I don’t think he actually did anything but sleep with Harlow last night. “I’d just want to fuck him, and we’re not there yet,” he murmurs, reaching back to palm my hip. “This is nice. I missed you, Cay.”
I drop more soft kisses on his nape and shoulders, making him shiver as I slowly hump him. I know we’ll switch soon enough, but I love moments like this, when Silas allows me to spoon him and top just a little.
“Missed you, too, baby,” I say, my voice dropping low with lust. “We need a honeymoon. Just the four of us, eating, sleeping, and fucking on repeat.”
Silas rumbles with pleasure, arching into me. His fingers tighten on my hip. Our breaths grow heavy, and when I slide my hand down his stomach, I find his cock already hard for me.
“Fuck,” Silas murmurs when I wrap my fingers around him and thumb the wet slit at the tip. “More like honey-weekend… With our work schedules… Damn. I really missed you.”
“Yeah? You like my hand on your cock, baby?” I say softly, wondering how far I can push it before he wrestles control back from me. “You like it when I stroke you like this?”
I grip him in my fist and run my hand up and down, tightening my hold when I reach the root of his cock. His breath catches. He gives me a moan that makes my blood pump faster. “Tell me, baby. Is this what you like?”
“Yes!” he snaps, cock trying to buck in my fist. “Fuck, yes.”
He writhes against me, chest heaving. My throat closes up. Silas lets go so rarely, I’m almost afraid to keep going, because any wrong move now will shatter this precious moment. But I can’t stop, either. I hump him eagerly, the friction of my cock sliding against his ass cheek feeling so fucking good. I jerk him off, picking up the pace.
“Damn, I love touching you,” I say, my lips pressed to his shoulder. “You feel so good. I love your cock. It’s so fucking beautiful.”
He makes a muffled noise, something between a laugh and a groan. I slow down, kissing his skin with my hot, open mouth. Fuck, I want to make this last. It feels so good when he gives in, and I think I’ll come just from humping him. My hand glides over his hard cock slowly, my grip strangling, just as he likes it.
“Cay,” Silas moans, bucking into my fist. “You have to… I need… More…”
He freezes. I sigh inwardly, knowing what comes next.
Because Silas almost begged me now, and he never does it. Never—since they made him beg on his knees in prison. They would stand over him, two or three, and rarely all five of them, and tell him to beg. They promised that if he did it well enough, they would let him go.
And they did, eventually. After they raped him. Silas learned by the third time that no amount of begging would save him, so he took it in silence from then on. But the scar remained.
It took years before I got the full story from him. He would tell me bits and pieces, lying in bed late at night, with darkness hiding us away. I was the only person who knew for a long time. Then, during our confinement at 12 Sycamore Street, Jack found out when he accidentally heard us talking.
And then, Silas told Harlow.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice tight as he turns quickly, disentangling his legs from mine.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.
“It’s okay,” I tell him with a soft smile, knowing he doesn’t need my pity, just my understanding. “We’ll do whatever you want. We can stop, too.”
His face hardens. I know what he’s thinking. He told me once, and his words are stuck so deep inside me, like they are tattooed over my ribs. “They crippled me, Cay. They cut away things, and I’ll never be the same. But I’ll be fucked if I let them break me. I’ll take what I can.”
That’s why he never stops. Even when his trauma flares, he pushes through and makes himself forget with iron will so he can fuck me and prove to himself he isn’t broken.
“You think you can get me all hot and riled up and then ask me to stop?” he grits out, his voice hard. His eyes glitter with determination. He straddles me, his face low over mine, body heavy on top of me. I glance at his cock, hard and perfect, the glistening sheen of precum making my mouth water.
A shiver runs down my spine. I love this side of Silas, too. Angry and demanding, he makes my blood pound in a rush. I grin up at him, partly playing along to help him through it, yes, but also because I fucking love it. I used to feel guilty about enjoying it, because I know it’s a coping mechanism, but damn, it’s a part of Silas, too. And I love all of him.
“Baby, I hope you’ll never stop,” I say, reaching for his face.
Silas hisses and grabs my wrist, pressing my hand to the mattress over my head. My cock jerks, leaking. I moan, not even trying to hide how much I enjoy it.
“Don’t get cheeky with me,” he grits out, his face tense. “Or I’ll fuck you and leave you hanging, with your ass full of cum. I’ll tie you up so you can’t get yourself off after. Is that what you want?”
My breath catches. Even though I don’t want him to do that, it sounds fucking hot. I lick my lips, settling into the dynamic. There’s freedom and bliss in giving in to Silas, and I let go of control with an eager sigh.
“No,” I answer. “Please. I want to come when you fuck me.”
His eyes flare with want, face relaxing, and I know he’s fully with me now, all ghosts of the past fleeing from the room. He’s in control. He feels safe. “You have to be good for that to happen,” he murmurs, hovering his lips over mine. He pulls back before I can kiss him, and that makes me sigh in frustration. Silas grins, brushing my nose with his.
“I’ll be good,” I promise, flexing my hips, my cock a throbbing spike. I need some fucking friction, but Silas is too high above me. Just out of reach. “I’ll do anything you want. You can fuck me.”
“Of course I can fuck you,” he says, his lips trailing down my jaw. “You’re mine.”
I nod, groaning when he nips at my throat. He bites down hard enough to hurt a little. “Fuck. Damn right I’m yours. Please.”
“Please what, Caden?” he asks, lips trailing lower until he swirls his tongue over my nipple, dragging my hand lower so he can keep restraining it.
“Please, touch me.”
He looks up, face full of mischief as he tsks at me. “I am touching you. You should be more specific. Where do you want me to touch you? And what will I get out of it?”
I groan, my hand flexing in his grip. It’s not really a restraint, and we’re not into tying each other up, but it is a reminder of who holds the reins. “Touch my cock,” I say, jerking when he scrapes his teeth over my tight nipple. “Fuck. And I’ll eat your ass in return. Please, Silas.”
“Tempting,” he says, dark eyes flashing up to my face. He grins, probably enjoying my expression. I know how I must look, wanton and desperate, cheeks flushed. “You’re so good at eating my ass. I love that desperate tongue of yours.”
He trails his fingers down my stomach, his touch light and fleeting, until he gently strokes the hair at the root of my cock. I buck my hips and Silas snatches his hand away, giving me a smug look.
“Fuck, Silas,” I breathe, shaking as precum slowly trickles down my shaft. “Baby, please.”
He extends one finger and slowly strokes it up my cock, gathering the wetness. I watch him, transfixed. That touch is barely enough, yet it feels like it will make me come. When Silas almost reaches the head, he pulls his finger away, the clear liquid stretching between his fingertip and my cock.
My chest squeezes. I gulp a shuddering breath, watching as he licks my precum, his dark eyes on my face. That’s definitely new, something that started on Halloween night when he first licked my cum and then kissed it out of Harlow’s mouth. I love it so much. I shiver all over, goosebumps racing down my arms.
“Well then,” he says, his voice low and serious. “I touched you. Time to pay up.”
I bark out an incredulous laugh. Silas straightens, arching an eyebrow. “Or don’t,” he drawls, pretending to be completely indifferent even as his cock throbs, flushed and wet. “You wanted to stop, didn’t you?”
“Fuck, you’re evil.” I grin even as I pant, my cock so hard, it makes me dizzy when I sit up. “Very well. I’ll eat your ass. And you better fuck me after.”
Silas lies down on his stomach, laying his head on his forearms and glancing at me over his shoulder. I can’t help but stare at his long, lean body, his skin smooth under the tattoos, the lines of him graceful and strong. He’s beautiful, every inch of him, even as his eyes spark with something dark and just a bit mad.
“Oh, I’ll fuck you. I will fuck you until you come without me even touching your cock again.”