Locked in Silence: Grimm's Circle, Book 5 (8 page)

“Yeah,” she said, surprised at how steady, how calm her voice sounded. “It’s changed, although I don’t know if I can say it’s more powerful exactly. Most of the change seems to be related to you—I can hear your voice, and you sound clearer than anybody else ever did. The few times we’ve been around other people…well, there’s not much change there. Although that could be because I’m not around them much. There are times when I hear your voice as clearly as if you’re talking to me, and the more time that passes, the clearer it gets.”

His hands never stilled, and although she couldn’t pick apart the individual thoughts, they were in the back of her head, like the dull hum of a conversation she could barely hear.

Finally, he asked,
“When does it seem to be the most clear?”

“When you’re thinking about me. Or like now—if you’re talking
to
me.” His thumb hit a particularly tight spot to the right of her neck, and despite herself, she groaned. Then, as he focused on that knot of tension, she let her head fall forward, all but sagging against the cool, glass window.

“But not all the time?”

“No. And I think if you try to
keep
me from hearing you, I wouldn’t hear you,” she said, frowning as she focused and tried to pick up the trail of his thoughts and discovered she couldn’t.

She could still hear that dull roar of his thoughts, but nothing she could pick apart and focus on.

“This is interesting. We should see who else it works on,”
he said.

Absently, she murmured, “I told you, I don’t hear others this clearly.” But she was too focused on what else she was picking up from him…something warm, bright…an oddly shimmering thing. Emotion, she realized. One she could only describe as pleasure. Happiness, even.

Without understanding why, she somehow knew he was…happy. Pleased. Slipping away from his hands, she turned around and stared up at him, studying him. “You’re happy about this,” she said, frowning.

Something akin to surprise flashed through his eyes. Then he shut it down and that odd warmth she’d been feeling was abruptly cut off. He lifted a brow and signed,
What makes you think that
?

“The fact that I was feeling it from you?” she said, shrugging. “It doesn’t make much sense to me—if somebody told me they were hearing
my
thoughts, I think I’d be pissed.”

She went to edge around him, but he caught her arm.

“You haven’t been locked in silence for hundreds of years, Vanya. I have. Having somebody who can hear me at all, well, it’s not unpleasant. It isn’t as though I cannot block you out, as you’ve already pointed out. I imagine it’s somewhat discomfiting for you, however.”

His pale blue eyes held hers. There was something so raw in that look—so intimate, so unsettling.

Without realizing what she planned to do, she reached up and touched a hand to his throat, felt the warmth of his skin, the slow, steady beat of his pulse under her thumb.

“It’s not discomfiting,” she said quietly, stroking her thumb over his skin.

“This doesn’t bother you?”

His eyes…damn it, she was getting lost in his eyes…

Vanya’s dark gaze locked with his.

He could hear her heart racing.

Could hear the slight hitch in her breathing.

And when she reached up and touched his skin, her palm against his neck, he watched the brown of her eyes darken to black.

“No,” she said quietly, her voice husky. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Careful to keep up a mental shield, he thought,
Let her go now. Put some distance between you…

This was his student. Just a month past her death. Just a child.

No, she wasn’t a child.

Despite her youth—she was twenty-three, young even by mortal standards—there was a wisdom in her eyes. But still, he couldn’t be doing this.

She went to withdraw her hand, but suddenly, Silence couldn’t stand for her
not
to be touching him. He needed her hands on him, needed her to touch him.

Need…one he’d ignored for far too long.

He caught her hand, pressed it back to his neck.

Then he caught the back of her head.

Watching her eyes, watching for any sign that this was unwelcome, unwanted, he slowly lowered his head.

Vanya’s eyes went wide.

Her tongue slid out, trailing across her lower lip, and Silence dipped his head, followed that path with his own tongue. Her nails curled into his neck, bit into his skin, and he shuddered. Wrapping an arm around her, he stroked a hand down her back, palmed her ass and brought her hips against his.

She groaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound down, used his tongue to tease her lips apart, desperate to see what other sounds he could coax from her. Would she whimper, would she sigh, would she scream…?

Desperate to find out, he lifted his head and stared at her.

Holding her gaze, he reached for the zipper that held the snug-fitting jacket she wore closed over her lithe torso. As he tugged it down, he lowered the shields on his mind and focused his thoughts,
“Do I stop?”

A faint flush turned her cheeks pink.

“Stop?” she whispered.

“Yes…stop. I shouldn’t do this—I know I shouldn’t. But I’m having a hard time convincing myself of that. Do
you
want me to stop?”

Vanya whispered, “No.” Her teeth caught her lower lip as she lowered her head, staring at his hand as he dragged the zipper all the way down.

When he went to push the short black jacket back off her shoulders, she looked back up at him, her hands coming up, curling in the material of his white T-shirt.

Silence held still as she pushed it up as high as she could then he stripped it the rest of the way off.

The silver medallion he wore caught briefly in the shirt before falling to rest on his chest. Vanya leaned against him, her hands stroking down over his sides, up over his chest. Her fingers tangled in the light dusting of hair over his chest, tugged.

Silence gritted his teeth against the sweet pleasure and then caught her wrists, eased them down.

His blood burned hot—need was a scream in his head. Had to slow down—had to. Catching the thick band at the bottom of her sports bra, he slowly peeled the sturdy material away. Then he went to his knees, pressed his lips to the faint red marks it had left behind on her narrow rib cage.

A sigh escaped her. She curled an arm around his head, bent hers low over him.

This was happening—really happening.

Too fast—way too fast.

Yet still not fast enough, she thought as he slowly peeled her out of her pants. Each move so slow, so deliberate, as though he was either giving her plenty of time to change her mind…or plenty of time to think about what was coming.

Change her mind—
not
possible, because that would require thought and she couldn’t think when he was around.

He was still wearing the sturdy black fatigues that seemed to be his standard uniform, kneeling in front of her as he eased her feet out of the puddle of stretchy black cloth.

Kneeling…that blond hair spilling over his broad shoulders, his head bent, his hands now resting on her ankles.

When he started to stroke up, her breath caught in her throat.

As his fingers brushed over the backs of her thighs, she shivered.

When he reached her knees, he nudged her legs wider. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she let him guide her feet to where he wanted. But as he leaned in, pressed his face to her, she still wasn’t prepared.

Not for the rough-velvet rasp of his tongue over her flesh, and not for the blistering heat of hunger that shuddered out of him, breaking over her—too much—

“Vanya…”

She sobbed, and if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen. Only the solid, unrelenting grip of his hands at her hips, the cool glass of the window at her back kept her upright.

His nose brushed against her clit just before his tongue speared through her folds, licking, stroking.

“Silence…” she whimpered, fisting a hand in his hair.

He shifted slightly, curled his tongue around her clit and started to suck on it. She felt each rhythmic pull in her very center, felt the heat building.

Silence stroked a hand up her thigh—she felt the ridges of his scars, felt the rasping over her flesh, another sensation over too many sensations. Lightly, he teased her entrance with a fingertip, teased her, stroked her…and when he slowly pushed two fingers inside, she slammed her head back against the window and came with a sob.

His voice was a muted rumble in her mind, one she could barely understand as she shuddered through the climax, shuddered, shook and tried to breathe. Just when she thought she’d be able to manage one decent breath of air, Silence stood, wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

Belatedly, she realized they’d been pressed against the window—where anybody could see. She couldn’t quite work up the interest to care, though, not when his mouth was teasing hers again, not when he was kissing her, his teeth nibbling at her lower lip tauntingly, then his tongue was sliding over hers, stroking and twining and teasing…

With awkward, shaking hands, she reached between them and fumbled for his zipper. She finally managed to get her fingers to cooperate and she dragged it down, shaking as her fingers brushed against him—thick, hard, throbbing under the restraint of his pants.

When she shoved a hand inside and closed her fingers around him, she felt and heard his reaction—blistering-hot want exploded through a mental connection, followed closely by,
“Stop or this will end before we even start.”

Tearing her mouth away from his, she whispered against his lips, “Then we just start all over again…”

He caught her hands, jerking them up over her head.
“Stop.”

As he lifted his head, their gazes locked and he stared down at her, stroked a hand down, lightly rubbed the heel of his palm against her mound.
“Don’t worry…I have plans to do this many times tonight,”
he told her.

Then he stopped touching her long enough to shove his pants down one-handed.

With her arms still pinned overhead, she was trapped, helpless…unable to do anything but wait.

Her breath hitched in her chest as he leaned into her, pale blue eyes glittering with heat and desire. He caught one leg, guided it over his hip.
“Wrap your legs around me,”
he ordered.

Vanya brought her other leg up, whimpered as the position opened her, had her pressed against him—open, wet, waiting…vulnerable.

His gaze captured hers, held it.

And then he pushed forward.

Vanya’s lashes fluttered down.

“No—”

His voice was a harsh demand in her head—velvet rasping inside her skull, demanding, seductive.

“Look at me…”

Groaning, Vanya forced her lashes up, stared at him. Watched him as he slowly, oh so slowly sank inside her.

The thickness of his cock throbbed, pulsed, lodged just inside her pussy. Inch by slow inch, he sank inside.

She arched forward, whimpering as he stretched her.

Silence dipped his head, rubbed his lips over her mouth. Soft, slow kisses, teasing and sweet. He slipped a hand between them, his thumb unerringly seeking out the tight bud of her clit, stroking it. She gasped out his name, jerked against his hold, desperate to wrap her arms around him—to feel all of him.

Not just his body, and not just his voice rumbling inside her head…

“Open for me, Vanya…open…sweet, so damn sweet…”

Although, damn, she did like the sound of his voice rumbling inside her head.

Tearing her mouth from his, she jerked against his hold again and said, “Let go of my hands.”

Slowly, his fingers uncurled, stroked down her arms.

She wound her arms around his neck, fisted her hands in the golden silk of his hair. Staring into his eyes, she tugged his mouth back to hers. One hand, big and scarred, came up, framed her face, held her as he lightly kissed her. A butterfly kiss…so light, so gentle.

She pressed her nails into his scalp, whispered against his lips, “Kiss me, damn it.”

He grinned against her mouth.

Then, without pause, Silence slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her—his tongue twining with hers, stroking, teasing. Sharing heat and promises…so deep, so hot. It was almost a seduction in itself, that kiss, so intimate and intense.

He stroked his hand down, cupped her hips, held her steady as he started to rock slowly, moving in a circular, teasing angle—the head of his cock hitting her just so—

Oh, hell…
Vanya sobbed into his mouth, felt the burn spread through her, felt the need blister inside. His cock swelled. His mouth devoured hers—she felt surrounded by him—felt lost in him.

Unable to breathe, unable to see, she tore her mouth away and cried out his name.

“Yes…”
His voice was a demanding, harsh growl in her mind, and it left her burning even hotter, even more hungry.

The hand he had between them, that diabolical hand, continued to toy with her clit, stroking, teasing, rubbing.

Vanya felt the orgasm gathering, tightening—felt
him
, like he was taking her over. Too much, too much—and when she closed her eyes, Silence pulled his hand, stopped touching her, stopped stroking her to reach up and cup her face. “
Look at me
¸
”
he demanded.

Too much
, she thought, thankful he couldn’t hear
her
thoughts…

But he could see. She suspected. If she looked at him, he’d see how shaken she was. How much she needed this, how much she wanted
him
…not just sex, but
him
…this man she barely knew.

No…

His hand fisted in her hair, tugged. The pale, ice-blue of his eyes filled her vision.
Look at me
—his voice was now a snarl in her mind, his mouth so close, so close…

“I want to see you, Vanya.”

Had to see her…had to watch those dark eyes as they went near black as she came ever closer to coming, had to see the pleasure, and even the nerves, although why she was nervous…