Page 34 of Yours on the Canvas

Silas

Smoothing the silk over Jack’s hair, I tie a slipknot and press a small kiss to the back of his head causing a tremor to run through his body.

Yeah, this is what my boy needs tonight. He’s been wound so tight, carrying too much weight, and it’s time for him to let go.

I keep my touch light, but steady as I move around to face him.

My fingers brush his skin, and I see the flinch, hear his sharp intake of breath, “sshh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I murmur, keeping my voice low and even. I stay right there with him, speaking softly until I feel his body settle under my fingers.

I lift his shirt, and the material drifting slowly up over his toned body as I pull it over his head, and let it fall aside. His tongue flicks out, wetting his bottom lip, and he pulls it between his teeth, that small tell he doesn’t even know he has. The gesture tightens something low in my stomach, a quiet reminder of how much he feels without saying a word.

My hands have no filters when it comes to him, as they map every inch of him like they own the terrain, because they do.

Jack tries to hide behind his walls, but under my palms, his toned, fighter’s body tells the real story. He’s sculpted to absolute perfection, all hard lines and lethal grace, his abs carved with dips and valleys I know by heart. My fingers trace the sharp, exquisite sweep of his V-line, following the path straight down to where he’s heavy, thick, and aching for me. It’s pure heaven.

The lamp behind us catches the deep gold of his olive skin in the shadows. I watch every muscle in his back and chest jump under my touch, reacting even when he tries to stay still. His breath stutters against my mouth, and as we stand here,after just getting my boy back, I know that my sweet, fierce dove is the only empire I’ll ever bow to.

And that’s when I see it. The exact second he drops into that space where the world can’t touch him or reach him.

No one except me.

I slow everything down on purpose. I want him feeling every single second of it, every drag of my skin over his.

My fingertip trails over his left nipple, and his breath hitches—a sharp, ragged sound that vibrates right against my chest. Goosebumps break out across his olive skin, shivering over his ribs as I trace the bone down, dragging my thumb slow across his chest before dipping in to give the right one the exact same careful, deliberate worship.

He tries to hold still, tries to keep that iron control he’s so stubborn about, but I can feel him trembling beneath me. Every twitch of his muscles tells me how much it’s costing him just to take the air back into his lungs.

His whole body responds, shaking now. Leaning in, my lips brush his, and when I pull back, he chases the contact.

I smile, “Stay still,” I whisper, my tone a gentle warning.

The effect those two words have on him is immediate. His head snaps back, and I watch as his body physically softens. His shoulders lose their tension, fingers unclenching at his side, hanging loosely at his sides, his mouth entirely slack as the last of his resistance melts away.

My fingertips trail along the top of his waistband, and a soft sound breaks from his throat. I smile at the sound, a raw, instinctive whine that tells me exactly where his heads at.

“Soon, dove.”

I slip my hand just inside the fabric, hovering right over him before I press my palm flat against his warm, trembling stomach. I don’t grab his cock, I just let my fingertip barely graze the heavy head of his cock, feeling that slick, thick wetness soak straight into my skin.

I pull my hand back, lifting that wet finger to my mouth while I keep my eyes locked on his. My lips part, and I take it in, sucking lightly.

I come apart right then, his pre-cum hot in my mouth. I hum deep in my chest, savoring every bit of him. “Mmm,” I groan, my voice rough, my throat tight as his taste floods me until my whole mouth is alive with him, “You taste so fucking good, boy.”

I pull my wet finger from my mouth and drag the damp trail back down his skin, blowing softly over it. His skin pebbles with goosebumps, and I feel my own cock twitch in response as he fights to stay upright, leaning his weight into me. The metal of the cuffs clinks as he tries to reach for me, but the restraint holds him firm.

“Silas.”

The whispered name hits me like a live wire, sending a violent spark straight through my blood. My cock turns rigid as steel, straining hard against the denim of my jeans.

With shaking fingers, I open my fly, letting out a rough moan as I finally break free.

“Let’s see you, baby,” I murmur, sliding the heavy zipper down, the sound grating loud and sharp in the quiet room.

I drop to my knees, taking his pants and boxers down with him. I lift one foot to slide the heavy denim off, then the other, tossing it aside. Pressing a soft kiss to each calf, I trail my lips up his thighs, nipping and tasting my way higher. Jack lets out a low, ragged moan as I brush a kiss against the apex of his left thigh before shifting to the right.

I move slow to his hard, leaking cock, licking the bead of moisture at the tip right before I blow a cool, gentle breath against his heat.

He lets out a sharp cry, trying to reach out blindly. His arms move frantically, the cuffs singing loud as he pulls against the iron in pure, helpless instinct. I drop a final, grounding kiss to his other thigh, then stand up, taking a small step back just to look at him.