Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty-One

Codename: Aconite Chapter Fifty-One
My body slips into a state of pure bliss as Silas’ fingers lightly travel up and down my bare back, his heart still racing beneath my ear as I lay against his chest drawing senseless patterns on his pectorals, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.

“I’ve never had sex in my bed,” I spontaneously blurt out.

Silas shifts to get a better look at me, surprise filling his features. “Never?”

“This just always felt like my private space away from everything. I never wanted to share it with anyone.”

“No one at all?” he asks suggestively.

I roll my eyes. “If that was your not-so-subtle way of asking if Castor has been in my bed, the answer is no.”

“Does this mean you trust me again?”

“That would imply I trusted you at all,” I say lazily.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he concedes, surprisingly satisfied by my response.

His fingers resume moving up and down my spine, his touch feeling no lighter than a feather. It still astounds me that such deadly hands can be so gentle.

“Do you trust me?” I ask him.

A few seconds pass, but there’s no response from Silas. I glance up to find him staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts I can’t even begin to fathom.

“Yours are the only hands I want to die by.”

He looks down at me, intense emerald eyes piercing through me like the bullets he wields so expertly.

“Nothing like a little post-coital morbidity,” I tease.

“I’m serious. Every fight that was life or death, I went in refusing to die. Death is not an option for me. To accept death is a weakness that is an affront to the very delicacy of my nature. When I felt you plunge that dagger through my stomach…” He reaches down touching the ugly scar on his stomach. I place my hand on his as his fingers trace the mark I left on him. “The look in your eyes as you stabbed me gave me a sense of peace I can’t even begin to explain.”

His eyes look tranquil, and his voice sounds serene as he makes his confession, rendering me mute.

“You’re the only one who can give me that peace. If anyone were to kill me, I’d want it to be you, my dahlia,” he says, cupping my cheek. “That’s how much I trust you. You’re the only one I trust enough with my life to let you be the one to end it.”

I swallow hard, my heart racing almost as fast as it was while we had sex. How can a man make death and murder sound this fucking romantic? Silas always has this way with words that leaves me breathless. Sometimes he even speaks as though he plucked the very words from my head. In the time we’ve been together, I’ve come to rely on him. With Silas, I always know what I’m in for. He always cuts through the bullshit. No preamble, no avoidance, he just dives in headfirst, completely unafraid of what he thinks or feels. It’s something I both envy and admire about him.

I hold my hand to his cheek, kissing him deeply and possessively, breathing him into my lungs as if he is the very air I need. His fingers weave into my hair as he rolls me onto my back, his tongue plunging into my mouth as he sucks on my lips, feasting on them with such ferocity I can feel it in my stomach. I fist his hair in my hands, sucking on his tongue, caressing it with mine as if to leave my taste forever on its buds. I feel his cock hardening against my thigh as his hand glides down my body, grasping my ass firmly as he lifts my thigh over his hip. Our kiss is a heated frenzy, building the sexual tension between us when his pager goes off.

He glances at the nightstand, reaching over to check it as I run my tongue up his neck and suck his earlobe into my mouth.

“Fuck, I need to get this,” he says breathlessly.

“Are you sure?” I hum, teasing his ear with my tongue.

He lets out a deep, pleasured groan, reflexively thrusting his cock against me, “You know what that fucking does to me.”

“That’s why I’m doing it,” I whisper, tracing the shell of his ear with my tongue as I glide my hands over his ass, squeezing hard, digging my nails into his flesh.

He groans, pressing his forehead against mine, “When I said you could kill me, I didn’t think you’d do it so soon.”

I chuckle, “I guess I just can’t help myself.”

He pulls back to look at me, his pupils dilated, his eyes wild with lust and his cheeks flushed. “I’ll just quickly take care of this and then you can torture me to your heart’s content.”

“I like this trade,” I smirk, dragging my nails up his sides. “Fine, you can go make your call.”

“Thank you,” he says, kissing each of my nipples as he gets out of bed.

I sit up on my elbows, watching as he pulls on his sweatpants, grabs his pager, and walks out of the room. I lay back against the sheets feeling bored and antsy. Five minutes go by, and Silas still hasn’t returned. When it hits seven minutes, he finally returns.

“This call is going to take longer than I thought. Turns out my Interpol contact got a hit on that name your mother came up with. How do you feel about a flight to Germany?” he asks from the doorway.

“If it means killing this son of a bitch, I’m all for it.”

“I thought you’d say that,” he grins, heading back to my office.

I sigh, resigning myself to the fact play time is over and it’s time to get back to our professional and deadly lives. I get out of bed, throw on a pair of high-waisted black spanks, and a black crop top and decide to make productive use of this time. I grab one of my scrunches and tie my hair up in a bun as I throw on some leg warmers and make my way up to my greenhouse.