When the Woods Go Silent (Haret Chronicles: Dark Fae #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

R OSE

The food Torrence brought out looks and smells every bit as good as it did before, but something has turned my stomach.

The bites taste fine on my tongue, but when I start to swallow, the food turns to ash in my mouth, lodging in my throat. I try another sip of liqueur, but it’s the same, souring and congealing on my tongue. I return to sipping my water and pretending to eat, moving the food around my plate. It feels like my body is rejecting everything, and I hope I’m not getting sick - that would be a disaster right before our opening week.

Ruby is definitely enjoying herself, though, and I’m so glad to see it.

Arlo’s main personality trait is being a huge flirt, so I have a pretty good idea where our night could go. I also don’t see anything more than a single night in our future, but I prefer it that way.

“This is phenomenal,” Ruby gushes about a vegetable dish that reminds me of ratatouille. I nod, in spite of the fact that most of my portion is still on my plate, just mushed into small piles to make it look eaten.

“No longer hungry?” Arlo asks as he leans closer, his tone asking about more than the food.

I turn my face toward him, getting a bit of his cologne. It’s some woodsy, generic male fragrance, but it smells good enough. “Saving myself for dessert, actually,” I say, dropping my voice to a purr that will let him know I’m done with dinner, but not necessarily with the date.

“I made raspberry brownies,” Arlo offers with a grin, and Ruby claps excitedly, overhearing him.

“Oh, yum. I love fruit and chocolate together,” she says.

“Let’s take ours to go. There’s a full moon tonight, and I want to show you the view from the rooftop.” Torrence is already rising from his chair. Ruby shoots me a grin, and I wink at her. The double date thing obviously made her feel more comfortable, but it’s obvious that we’re all ready to get to the more private part of the evening.

Torrence and Ruby head back toward the kitchen, their voices fading. Arlo turns his body toward me in his chair, a lazy smile spreading over his face. He fixes his icy blue eyes on mine as some faraway door slams shut, leaving the two of us alone in the building.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his hand sliding under my silky skirt and settling on my knee. His thumb begins to make circles on my skin, growing wider each time like ripples in a pond.

“Oh yeah? Why?” I taunt, shifting in my chair so I’m facing him more completely. He widens his legs, sliding forward and bracing his knees on either side of my crossed thighs.

“I won’t play coy if you won’t. We were interrupted last time, and I don’t intend to leave tonight unsatisfied.”

“And yet, you never reached out to me,” I noted, raising one eyebrow and pursing my lips.

“I was out of the area. Sourcing product. That’s why I sent the treats instead,” he answers. It isn’t an apology, and I consider. He’s a bit rude and self-obsessed, but does that really matter for a single night? As long as he’s the giving sort, I decide I’ll stick around.

We continue our staring contest as his thumb reaches higher on my thigh, finding the softer skin on the underside. He squeezes possessively, and pleasure spreads upward with a rush of anticipation.

“I’m here now,” he observes, and I sense it’s the closest thing to an apology I’ll get.

“Ready to pay what you owe, then?” I ask after another beat of silence. I uncross my legs, my thighs opening between his. His hand slides up a few more inches, and heat pulses between us.

“It’s going to be like that, then?” His voice is lower, a hint of need making it deliciously rough.

I give him a smirk. “It most definitely is. I come first, or you don’t come at all. And no interruptions this time,” I warn him. “Or it will be the last time you see me.”

“Guess I need to get to work, then,” he growls, sinking to his knees between my thighs like he doesn’t want to waste a single second more with talking. The smooth fabric of my skirt slides easily up my bare legs, and his nearly colorless eyes flash up at me in the candlelight. For a moment it’s so similar to one of my recent dreams that my head spins, hoping like hell I’m really here.

And that I’m actually going to get to come tonight.

His strong hands massage their way up and down my thighs, spreading me wider as he goes. Arlo dips his head to kiss along one side, inhaling deep as he presses his nose against the center of my panties.

“So fucking sweet,” he says, his breath trapping heat against my sensitive skin as I try to resist rubbing against him.

“Wait until you taste it,” I manage, hooking one knee over his shoulder and drawing him closer. I’m impatient, and I don’t mind him knowing it. We made this agreement to show each other pleasure last time, and if that’s all we’re going to be, then it better be good.

“What do you want, Rose? Tell me. Where do you want my mouth?”

I rake my fingers into his blond hair and pull his face up gently, giving him my best bedroom eyes. With my other hand, I slide my fingers against the center of my panties, pressing and rubbing my own wetness through the silk.

“Right. Here. Make me come, make it hard and fast,” I order with an edge to my voice, rubbing my damp fingers against his parted lips before releasing his hair. He watches me intently, and I see a hint of surprise flicker across his face as he sucks my fingers into his mouth, teeth nipping at my skin.

His slight pause makes me wonder if maybe Arlo isn’t into the sort of domination I love most - woman on top - but then he surges into action. His hands push my skirt up far enough to grip the sides of my panties, and he tears them down my legs, tossing them to the side before propping my knee back on his shoulder.

“I know exactly what you need,” he rasps, wrapping those long fingers around my thick thighs from beneath, widening them until my pussy is on complete display for him. I shift to the side a bit and recline on the chaise, popping my nipples free from the lace of my bra and twisting them over the low neckline of my sweater. Arlo’s eyes follow the movements of my fingers greedily before traveling up to meet my challenging gaze.

My breath catches as I note something feral in those icy depths.

Something almost... animalistic. Hungry, even. He’s going to devour me, and I’m going to enjoy every second.

Arlo’s lips spread into a teasing grin, and then he bends and buries his tongue in my naked folds.

My back arches and I forget how to string sentences together as the pleasure descends in a heady rush. He’s taking hard and fast as a mission, and my mind spins with the bit of power he’s turned on me.

A moan rips from my throat and my body grinds against his face as he laps at me, sucking my clit between his lips and spinning my mind into the stars. He pushes two fingers deep inside, curling them into the perfect spot as though he’s been here a thousand times. My thighs begin to tremble almost too soon, and he pushes them wider with his other hand, holding me open like a vise as he has his filthy fun.

My chest is heaving and I’ve forgotten all about playing with my nipples, caught in the perfect storm of sensation that he’s creating so easily. A cry that might be his name rips from my throat, but he just keeps going, drawing out the orgasm to the point of tender pain as he claims his dominance in the moment too easily.

“I could make you come again, just like this. It would be so fucking easy,” he growls, holding me down as I writhe beneath his tongue. I’m so goddamn sensitive, and all I can think of is how empty my pussy is. I’m clenching around empty space, my hands gripping the edge of the chaise, and I breathlessly beg him.

I want his fingers inside me again. I want his cock - hell, I want him to fuck me into the cushions until I can’t remember my own name, much less his.

But he’s slowing down now, damn him, resisting my direction, tasting and teasing instead of devouring. The frantic pace he set before slows to an excruciating crawl as he swirls his tongue lazily across my pulsing core. I whimper and arch against him, growing impatient for the next act of our little play, but all he does is drag his teeth against my sensitive skin.

“More,” I say, my voice throaty and full of need, as I feel his lips nibbling my inner thigh. I don’t want to beg, but I’m not above it right now. I’m too ready - I don’t want this feeling to have a chance to dissipate. His mouth is so close to giving me more.

Suddenly, my eyes fly open, and I yelp in surprise. Shoving up on one elbow, I stare down at the man in disbelief, my skin throbbing with a new, very unpleasant sensation.

“Did you... did you just fucking bite me?” I ask, scrambling higher on the chaise, creating distance between us. My mouth drops open as a telltale bead of blood trails down my inner thigh, the delicate skin pulsing with a coming bruise. His bottom lip is wet with my blood, a flash of sharp white tooth against the bright red. My disbelief grows as his tongue swipes at the blood on his lips, his pale eyes darting down to my thigh like he’d love to lick up the rest of it.

He leans closer, but I catch his shoulder with my hand, lowering my knee and snapping my thighs together. My skin throbs, and there’s an uncomfortable, slick wetness that shouldn’t be there. How fucking hard did he bite me? Skin doesn’t just tear with a little nibble.

Arlo’s lips pop open like he’s going to say something, but no sound comes out, and he finally sits back on his ass, his brows drawing together halfway between confusion and anger. Something dangerous flashes in his pale eyes, and I suddenly feel like a cornered animal. I need to get out of here. I glance around for my panties, deciding I don’t even care as I stand and shimmy my skirt back down.

“That was not cool, dude. I don’t mind a little kink, but a bite like that requires more consent than I gave you.” I bark out the words, every bit of desire dissipating as he stares up at me in shock. What did he think was going to happen?

My hands adjust my sweater quickly, covering the rest of my nakedness, and I press my thighs together harder against the swell of pain on my tender skin. It’s not far from my femoral artery, and my nerves jitter with unease as I realize I know nothing about this man.

He’s blocking my exit, too, but thank fuck he doesn’t try to stop me as I edge around him and back toward the front door.

“I... I had no idea,” he finally mumbles as I grip the handle. I’m so fucking confused by the turn the night has taken. This was a bad idea. I should have trusted my gut.

“I’m not saying don’t call me, but, wow. Let’s maybe take a step back and discuss some hard limits.” Part of me - the people-pleasing girl who was raised by the patriarchy - says I’m overreacting.

Plenty of people use teeth during sex. His nibbling on my thigh wasn’t even a problem. I could give him the benefit of the doubt - maybe he got carried away and bit harder than he meant to.

But the bigger part of me knows that’s bullshit. To fucking draw blood from a girl right after an orgasm, without warning or permission? And then lick your lips like you want more?

Yeah. No. There’s something seriously off about the energy between us now, and my inner alarm bells are not going to be quieted enough to salvage anything with Arlo. I gave him the chance Ruby asked me to, and now I’m done.

His redemption arc is over.

“Thanks for... the dinner.” It’s all I can manage as I head out the front door, purse clutched in one hand. Arlo still hasn’t said another word, and I’m actually not sure he’s capable of it yet. He seems frozen in disbelief, still right where I left him.

His hair may be all tousled and sexy, and his lips all pouty and full, but his jaw is slack like just another clueless asshole.

Seriously. What the fuck did he expect?

Even beautiful men need approval for a kink like blood play, and consent has levels.