Black and Silver

by Gwendolyn Harper

Planting her hands on her hips, she arched an eyebrow at him. “So why were you going to make Boris come here with boxes and bins to pack everything up?” Silas shrugged. “He likes to keep busy. Who am I to deny him?” She laughed and picked up her duffle. “Will you at least let me pack this on my own? For normalcy’s sake?” Flicking his gaze up to the smudged ceiling, he said, “If you must.” Thirty minutes, and more expletives than he could count, later and Ivy had her bag packed, the spoiled leftovers from her fridge tossed, and her trash taken out.

He demanded he carry her things for her down to his car, however. She’d yielded with minimal arguing. “Can I come back tomorrow for my plants?” Silas raised his hand to snap his fingers but she grabbed his hand, halting him. “I can do it myself,” she said hurriedly. “Don’t waste all your Hellish energy on me.” Twisting his digits to grasp hers, he hauled her in close, pressing his lips to her temple. “Nothing I do for you is a waste, Ivy,” he murmured against her ear. “I want you to remember ...

Standing in line at her local café with an Infernal was a new experience for Ivy. Standing in line at her local café with a drop dead gorgeous Infernal whose very aura literally turned people on and drew them to him? That was a whole different ballgame. A ballgame she was hating more and more by the second. Get used to it, she thought, trying not to look sour. He’s the sexiest creature this side of Dublin and you’re… you. This is going to be a regular occurrence.

Straightening her spine, she glanced casually around the bustling shop, noting the seemingly endless pairs of eyes on Silas. Each and every stare was hungry, desperate, aroused to the point of pain. And he wasn’t even letting his aura spread throughout the room. Ivy would have felt it if he was. No, this was all just from him simply existing in the world. Grand. When their turn at the counter came up, Silas placed a gentle, guiding hand at her low back and Ivy could have sworn she heard a woman behind them hiss out a curse.

Meandering the few feet over to the end of the bar, Silas scanned the décor and menu. “Wide variety they have here,” he said, glancing at the pastry case. “Are you hungry? Should we get you something?” “You’re never going to let me live down that one fainting episode, are you?” “Of course I won’t,” he said. “And you didn’t answer my questions.” Sighing, she hoisted her purse higher onto her shoulder. “Yes, I’m hungry. No, I don’t want anything.”

In the span of milliseconds, something snapped inside her. It was a small, already fraying thing, and when she felt it break, she wasn’t upset at all. Ivy didn’t want to spend the day obsessing over her insecurities. Who benefited from her feeling terrible? It certainly wouldn’t help her mental health, and her family was nowhere near her, so they couldn’t even enjoy the routine jabs and digs at each of her soft spots. Every single person in the room was staring at Silas. And he was staring at her.

Deirdre leaned in and asked, “Did you hear about what happened to one of the Star Coven members? He was murdered in his club. They’re saying it was a robbery attempt.” Ivy stilled. She wasn’t close with the Star Coven—thought they were all a bunch of rude fucks if she was honest. The likelihood that the man Deirdre spoke about and the one who’d kidnapped and assaulted Kat were the same was high. Very high. She hoped his soul was left to wander the In Between, never accepted into any lands of rest. Ivy had no sympathy for rapists. “I heard,” she said. “Don’t mingle too much with the Star Coven, Deirdre. They’re not safe people to be with.”

Licking a swipe of whipped cream off the top, Ivy was too busy not spilling or burning herself to see Silas’ blazing stare on her. But she certainly felt it. “If Deirdre saw you look at me like that, maybe she wouldn’t have called you my client,” she said, finally glancing up at him. “Could have corrected her,” he said, voice low. Ivy sipped her mocha. “And tell her what? That you’re my Incubus employer who’s also feeding from me? She’d have passed out on the spot.” “Do all Witches faint that easily in my presence?” “I don’t know,” she said, smirking. “Let’s go back and find out.”

Silas wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her into his side. “I have a better idea. Let’s find a quiet spot where I can keep watching you lick whipped cream off your drink instead.” “You men are all the same,” she teased. He only laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Ivy marveled at how comfortable he was with touching her—in private, in public, it didn’t seem to matter to him. It would take some getting used to, just like everything else about him. As they walked, the inner wall she kept up at all times started to crack. Maybe, jus...

Kat blinked up at him. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever cursed at me.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took several deep breaths. “I apologize,” he said. “I’m a bit… On edge.” It was the understatement of the century. Four days. Actually, three days, twelve hours, and twenty-seven minutes. But who was counting? It had been that long since Ivy had agreed to feed him fully, properly. She’d agreed to go into his playroom and be his feast. And instead of dragging her there the second the words left her lips, Silas had simply nodded. Nodded and then immediately pointed out some asinine modern art sculpture in a gallery window as a distraction. What the ever loving fuck was wrong with him?

He ached for Ivy. Burned for her with the intensity of Hell’s flames. Craved her to the point of madness. Which is exactly why he’d backed away. He’d tasted the littlest bit of her magic and become weak with need. He had to get a grip on himself before he took Ivy into his playroom. Otherwise, he’d—

Oh, Lucifer save me, she’s in a sundress, he inwardly groaned, knees going soft. The embroidered lilac fabric skimmed over her curves and fell to just above her knees, swishing enticingly as she moved. Instantly, the image of him dropping to kneel in front of her, pushing her dress up and shouldering her thighs apart so he could eat her out was so prominent in his mind, Silas nearly slumped against the wall.

“Don’t even try that ‘you’re dismissed’ voice with me,” she said, pointing at him. “Did you do something embarrassing? Is that why you ran away from Ivy like a scared puppy?” “I am not a scared puppy,” he said between clenched teeth. “And I did not—” “So you are avoiding me, eh?” Ivy called from behind them just as Silas reached the threshold of his office. Faltering, he and Kat both turned. Only one of them was smiling. “I really tried to believe I was imagining it, but that tuck-tail-and-run routine back there really sold it,” Ivy continued, books in the crook of one arm as her other hand planted on her hip. Kat smirked wickedly, the tips of her fangs glinting in the light. “Ha, I knew it.”

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words and knowing he just looked like a dying fish. “And please spare me some nonsense excuse,” Ivy said. “Because I’ve heard just about all of them in the last few days.” Hell’s flames, he might as well bare his throat to her and cry uncle. Straightening his spine just a fraction, Silas gestured for Kat to take her leave. “But I want to see her take you to task,” she pouted, crossing her arms. Silas glared at her in silence until she yielded.

“Fine,” Kat sighed. Turning back down the hall, she leaned towards Ivy and stage whispered, “Give him hell, Ives. He likes a good tongue lashing.” He growled in warning, but s...

Hurt flickered beneath the anger in her stare, and Silas’ chest threatened to cave in. She thought he was rejecting her. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stepping closer, he started to reach for her but stopped himself.

“I pride myself on maintaining strong boundaries when I feed,” he said, studying her face. “On negotiating every single act ahead of time, for the comfort and safety of my partners. I always make the promise that I will not do or say anything or react in any way that is not previously agreed upon. But with you…” He blew out a soft breath, watching goosebumps rise along her arms. “Ivy, I’m hanging by the barest of threads with you,” he said, dropping his voice several octaves.

“You really don’t know, do you?” He murmured, inching towards her. “Don’t see how I react to you every time we’re near. Don’t hear the need and hunger in my voice when we speak.” Pupils going wide, Ivy dropped her arms to her sides. “You… You want me that badly?” Flashing a devious grin, he crowded into her space. “I have half a mind to lay you out on my desk and show you just how much I crave you.” Heat sliced through her overwhelmed stare. “Then do it,” she challenged, jutting her chin up. Chuckling low in his throat, Silas leaned in, pressing his nose to her temple and breathing her in. “I’d ruin you, witchling,” he purred. “I’m a barely leashed beast as it is. With you under me, I’d turn feral.”

Ivy whimpered softly, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach for him. “Is that what you want?” He asked, dragging his lips to the shell of her ear. “To be ravaged by a demon?” Despite the hunger clawing at him, he allowed himself to trace the curve of her shoulder with one fingertip. “To be taken roughly, wildly. To be fucked senseless, until all you are is endless, eternal pleasure—like a star exploding only to birth new galaxies.” At that, her hands gripped the waist of his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer, and Silas laughed darkly. “Oh, my little witch, I could break you apart with ecstasy,” he said, playing connect the dots with the freckles on her collarbone. “Again and again until you’re remade into a wholly new demigod.”

Cursing under her breath, Ivy dug her fingernails into his sides. “Tell me what you want, my wicked darling,” he coaxed, brushing her curls off her neck. Ivy swallowed. “You.” “I’m right here,” he murmured, thumb rubbing under her jaw. “What do you want me to do?” Her ragged inhale was the finest symphony to him. “I… I want…” She licked her lips, letting her eyes drift shut. “You to kiss me.” Silas arched a brow. “Where?” She nearly stumbled into him. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Please—” Fisting a handful of her curls at the back of her head, he tugged, baring her for him.

“But tonight…” He kissed the tip of her chin. “Tonight will be exactly as I described to you before.” Ivy sucked in a breath. “Tonight?” Hovering his lips a hair away from hers, he smiled. “Yes, witchling. Tonight.” “We could… Do more,” she offered. Silas shook his head, nose bumping hers with a featherlight touch. “I don’t trust myself to do more with you yet, Ivy.” It was the brutal truth. If he didn’t feed—a proper, nourishing session, not just the hint of an appetizer—he would truly be the beast he fought so hard to keep caged.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, savoring her warmth. “And then we’re going to have a discussion.” Silas didn’t give her a chance to respond before crushing his lips to hers, savoring her with every movement, every slide of tongues and graze of teeth. He could kiss her for an eternity. Maybe… Just maybe… He didn’t let himself finish the thought.

Nipping her bottom lip, he sucked and soothed it, swallowing her soft moan. “What… what kind of discussion?” She asked, breathless as she pulled away. Silas grinned, flashing his fangs. “We’re going to...

“Restraints?” “No rope,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve tried those stupid fuzzy cuffs before. The ones you get when you’re shopping for a hen party. I didn’t really mind them, but they pinched.” Silas stifled a laugh. “Those handcuffs are for amateurs. Mine are wide handstitched leather lined with suede.” “Sounds nice.” Ivy sipped her tea. “They are.” “Would you… Is there a way to get out of them quickly? Or on my own?” The red in his eyes slipped into onyx black. “Were you left restrained without your consent?” He snarled. “I…” She struggled to find the words. “It wasn’t on purpose. The key just… got lost. And then I started to panic, and… well, it was a long night.”

The energy between them shifted and when she glanced up, Silas was like a living statue. Flickering rings of scarlet blazed in his eyes. “I see,” he murmured before looking back down at the paper. Heat flamed her cheeks and Ivy shot a glance towards the door. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand this.

Ivy clenched her fists around the hem of her dress. “Is all of this really necessary?” She snapped. “I agreed to feed you, I agreed to go to your playroom, I agreed to fecking be here, isn’t that enough?” Silas lowered the questionnaire to his lap, studying her reaction in silence. Anxiety and vulnerability warped into anger, and Ivy scowled. “What does it matter what I like or don’t like? It’s fine, you don’t have to—I mean, I don’t have any expectations for—” “Ivy.” He cut her off gently. “It does matter. It matters to me quite a lot.” His stare brimmed with earnest compassion, and it almost made her feel worse.

“I’m not asking these questions to embarrass you,” he said, gesturing to the stack of papers on his knee. “I’m asking because I have no intention of hurting you—physically or psychologically.” “But—” She bit off her response, taking a deep breath through her nose. “What is it?” Ivy bit the inside of her lip until it stung. Just spit it out, she told herself. The man has already made you come without even touching you. He’s asking what you want in bed. How many of our partners ever did that? So just tell him and get it over with. “I… I want you to hurt me,” she said finally.

Silas blinked. “Pardon?” “I like pain,” she said, forcing herself to look into his eyes. “Spanking and whipping are good, but I prefer something a bit more… visceral.” “Meaning?” It took her several moments before she could get the words out. “Biting,” she said. “I love being bitten.” Silas went wholly still again—so suddenly, in fact, she wasn’t even sure he was breathing. But the red in his eyes burned so hot she could almost feel the Infer...

She dropped her stare to her lap. “I’m not sure why. I think I just like feeling the wild, fraying edge of a person when they’re overcome like that. It’s…” “Intoxicating.” His liquid smoke voice ghosted over her, making her shiver. Ivy lifted her gaze and nearly gasped at the raw expression on Silas’ face. It was the barest hint of the true dem...

“Is that…” She cleared her throat. “Is it alright to ask for those things?” Silas’ lips curled, revealing the tips of his very sharp, very white fangs in a smoldering grin. “Oh yes, witchling,” he breathed. “It’s more than alright.” The red rings in his eyes flashed and flickered. “I may be a Pleasure Dom, but I’m also an Infernal,” ...

Taking her hand gently, he kissed her knuckles before standing and pulling her with him. “Be sure to finish your work before dinner,” he said. “Because after, you’r...

Ivy wriggled her jeans on, immediately hated her decision to wear them, and wriggled herself back out. Chucking the denim back into the closet, she sighed and pushed her curls off her forehead. What the hell did someone wear to service an Incubus? Leggings? A skirt? Nothing but a big sparkly bow taped to her rear end?

Dinner had been a disaster. Her nerves got the better of her, making her jittery and clumsy. She’d dripped gravy onto the table, knocked her silverware to the floor, and spilled her wine in her lap. There were fewer people at the meal, but that only meant there were less distractions to keep eyes away from her. Everyone saw how jumpy she was—even Kat seemed concerned. As soon as her plate was cleared, Ivy had run off to hide in her room.

Leaning against the opposite wall with his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, Silas lifted his gaze. The red rings in his irises blazed to life and he raked his stare over her body like she’d appeared stark naked. Well, you will be soon, so maybe he’s just using his imagination. “Hi,” she said a bit breathlessly. Silas smiled with just the faintest tips of his fangs visible. “You look lovely.”

Pushing away from the wall, he took two steps forward. “I didn’t expect you to change. What you were wearing before was perfect.” Ivy smirked despite the wobble in her knees. “Is that your way of saying you like seeing me in sundresses?” “Yes,” he said, tone perfectly sincere. Closing her bedroom door, she said, “Well, next time I’ll be sure not to dump a disturbing amount of wine all over myself when I’m wearing one.” Amused, Silas gestured for her to walk with him down the corridor.

Waving his hand over the intricate looking keyhole, Silas glanced over at her. “No one else is allowed in here but myself and my partners,” he said. “The door locks automatically, but if you’d feel safer, I can keep it unlocked while you’re inside.” She blinked. “Will someone need to come in to get me?” He shook his head. “I meant so you could leave quickly should you feel the need to.” “Oh.”

She remembered the expression on his face when she told him she’d been left handcuffed by accident, and something in her chest warmed. He wanted her to feel safe. Wanted her to know she wouldn’t be trapped.

Oh Goddess save me. Silas hadn’t lied. This was an adult playroom worthy of a BDSM dungeon. A Saint Andrew’s cross was set up in the corner to her right, the hardware meant to chain someone to it glinting in the faint light. Padded benches of all sizes, racks holding impact toys and leather whips, a metal cage, and several cases displaying large silver rods of various shapes all were lined up along the wall. Ivy recognized those rods—she’d stumbled across them in her own personal exploration of her sexual interests. They were electrified toys, made to zap and sting and tingle depending on their use and voltage.

The table Silas had described was placed in the center of the room, and directly across from it was a large leather chair that looked like it belonged in a study or parlor, not a sex room. To her left were rows and rows of toys—vibrators, suction toys, dildos of almost every size, plugs, clamps, harnesses. Just looking at them made Ivy flush and ache between her legs. She was going to have to use one of those. In front of Silas.

The door clicked behind her and she jumped. “Easy,” Silas murmured, coming up to her side. “We’re not starting yet. First we’re going to talk.” “I thought we already talked,” she said, watching as he moved further into the room. “That was to know what you’re interested in, what you like,” he said, turning to face her. “Now we’re going to discuss what this session will be and our limits.” Our. Not just hers. She wasn’t sure why it was so surprising that a demon had a list of things he wouldn’t do, but she was still shocked.

“I know this is all very new for you, so for tonight, and a few sessions after, I won’t be touching you,” he continued. “You need to know I can maintain control and respect your boundaries, and I find it best to establish that by keeping some distance.” Ivy ignored the disappointed drop of her stomach. “You’ve already touched me, though.” His intensely dark eyes sparkled. “But that wasn’t while I was feeding from you,” he said. “...

“I’ll talk to you during the session,” he continued. “I’ll give you orders—direct you on how to touch yourself, where, and for how long.” She’d expected as much, so Ivy nodded in understanding. “If you want to slow down, say ‘yellow’. If you need to stop, say ‘red’, and all of it ends and I’ll immediately start performing aftercare.”

“You’re putting yourself in a very vulnerable position, Ivy,” he said gently. “Sexual activity—even vanilla sex—disrupts your nervous system. You need care to help regulate and come back to a place of calm.” He nodded to a black box behind the leather chair. “I have blankets, heating pads, chocolate and hard candies, and pillows that can all be used.” He motioned to another black box that Ivy only then realized was a minifridge. “In there I keep bottles of water, juice, and cool packs. Whatever you need, even if it’s not in this room, I can get it for you.” Suddenly, Ivy was acutely aware of the lack of care by her previous partners.

“I know you said you’re comfortable,” he finally murmured. “But if you’ve changed your mind, or need more time to get accustomed to the idea—” Ivy shook her head, spilling a few drops of water on her chin and wiping them away. “No, no, it’s not… I’m nervous, yes. But I’m not saying no.” Tension ebbed from Silas’ shoulders. “That’s a bit of a relief,” he said, huffing a laugh. Arching a brow, she asked, “Hungry, are you?” Blazing red eyes pinned her in place, ratcheting her heartrate up until she could barely hear anything but the blood pounding in her eardrums. “Starving,” he said, voice low and graveled. “I will admit, it’s been a while since I’ve last fed properly.”

“How long?” She asked, closing her mostly empty bottle. “I’ve snacked here and there. But as for bringing someone in here for a full feeding…” He tilted his head. “A year.” It was a good thing Ivy had stopped drinking, because if she’d had any water in her mouth, she’d have spat it across the room.

“Jesus—sorry, I meant…” she choked. “I thought Incubi had to feed more often than that.” Shrugging, he tucked his hands back into his pockets. “Our appetites and needs vary. Though I admit, I’ve probably pushed myself beyond what’s… healthy for my kind.” “No wonder you made this addendum to our bargain. You were getting desperate.” She’d meant it as a joke, but Silas’ expression darkened. “If I’d wanted to feed, I would have,” he said firmly. “But I...

Silas’ eyes shone like they were lit up by flames. His gaze dropped to her full breasts and as if he’d touched her, Ivy’s nipples peaked against the see-through fabric in response to his stare. When she reached for her skirt, he jerked his chin. “Slowly,” he ordered. “I want you to kill me with it.” She did as he told her, inching the skirt down her round hips millimeter by millimeter. It would have felt ridiculous if she couldn’t see how his chest rose and fell rapidly, and how his fingers clenched the arms of his chair so tight she was surprised he didn’t tear the leather.

Plucking at the fabric and elastic of her panties, she grit her teeth as she tried not to focus on all the imperfections he now saw. Her soft belly. The faded stretchmarks that arched across her hips and stomach. Her dimpled thighs. Just keep going. Get it over with. Right as she reached back to unhook her bra, Silas made a low rumbling noise and she paused. “Turn for me,” he urged, shifting a little in his seat. “Let me see that perfect arse covered in black lace.” Perfect. He’d just called her ass perfect.

A pleased growl rippled through the air, and she shivered. “You have no idea how badly I want to tear those off you,” he ground out. “With my teeth.” Air rushed from her lungs and Ivy glanced back at him. She never could have imagined a man looking at her the way Silas was that very moment. Like she was divine. Like she was his living fantasy. Like she was a rabbit and he was a hungry wolf. It overwhelmed her, causing her to wobble slightly.