The Stand-In Who Burned the Script novel Chapter 494

Vivian didn't have many virtues, but her most defining trait was knowing exactly when to play smart. She reached up, looping her arms around his neck with the fawning innocence of a cat caught stealing treats. "Not at all. If I was doing something bad, do you really think I'd be doing it so openly in our own living room?"

"Oh?"

"Nope, I'm incapable of doing bad things."

She looked entirely serious.

Silas pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his dark eyes studying her for a long moment before he finally gritted out, "Stay the hell away from him from now on!"

"Yes, sir!"

Vivian answered with wide eyes, then giggled. "So... can we go upstairs to bed now?"

She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I already showered. Smell me? I smell amazing."

It was an incredibly blatant invitation.

Silas didn't say a word, his deep gaze turning profoundly dark.

He reached up and gripped the back of Vivian's neck. The pressure was neither too light nor too harsh, but it was more than enough to establish his absolute dominance over her.

Up the stairs, into the bedroom.

Vivian reached out to flip on the lights, but the man yanked her back before she could even move.

He guided her hands back around his neck, and a crushing, desperate kiss crashed down upon her.

Vivian let out a soft moan, instantly shifting from passive to aggressive as she stood on her tiptoes, completely surrendering herself to him.

Her eyes remained open. The faint glimmer of the city lights outside drifted through the window, reflecting in the man's eyes and making his gaze look like a bottomless abyss.

By the time they tumbled onto the edge of the bed, Vivian's cardigan had already been stripped away.

The straps of her nightgown hung loosely off her shoulders.

Her skin was luminous, and her thick, flowing hair cascaded through the air. As she was tossed onto the mattress, her locks draped obediently to one side, exposing the elegant curve of her neck.

The sight was nothing short of a masterpiece, instantly igniting a fiery red heat in Silas's eyes.

His breathing turned ragged as he knelt on the bed, tearing off his own shirt.

His sculpted, chiseled torso radiated a suffocating wave of pure testosterone.

Vivian looked up at him, her eyes dancing with amusement. She reached out, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pulling him down. When their faces were mere inches apart, she whispered, "Need help with your pants?"

She gave him a strange look, but since the man was being so unusually proactive tonight, she decided to let him set the pace.

The slow, excruciatingly tender kisses somehow felt vastly more intimate than raw, unbridled passion.

Vivian suddenly realized that her intuition over the past few days hadn't been wrong. Silas really was acting different. Perhaps he had finally figured something out, or perhaps he was actually starting to fall for her.

"Silas..."

She shifted restlessly beneath him, the slow burn no longer enough.

Abandoning all restraint, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her breath hot against his skin. "Can you hurry up? Faster... please?"

Silas stared down at her with darkened eyes, the tip of his tongue sweeping briefly over his own lips before he flashed a wicked, predatory grin.

"You really are... absolutely insatiable."

"..."

The night melted into a seductive, intoxicating haze.

When a man went without release for too long, flipping that switch meant there was no turning back.