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You are right where he wants you - where you're needed, and where you have always been meant to be.
Certainly, Silco cannot deny that he enjoys having you standing by his side. It provides a certain comfort, and a certain assurance, that is indeed appreciated at this stage of his long, eventful existence.
But what's even more appreciated then having you firmly slotted at his side, is having you on your knees. Hands and knees, to be precise.
The immediate need of you comes often, but the desire to act on it in an immediate-setting is a far less common occurrence. Silco prides himself on usually having the self-control in many things, including the restraint not to throw you down in the middle of the office floor, bending you over like a beast and fucking into you like some sort of animal in a rut.
But alas, Silco is still human. And even for humans, self-control is a concept that can sometimes waver, and at the moment, it's not a slip of weakness that he finds himself overly-critical of himself over.
It's hard to be critical, when he's biting down on the back of your neck with a dark growl as he pounds into you, with enough force to send your kneeling form before him rocking forward with every vigorous thrust. Silco indeed, finds it rather hard to think critically about anything in a moment like this, when his sole goal at the moment, is to fuck you like the only goal you have is to be bred by him.
In this moment, it might as well be the only purpose you have, because that's his only goal in mind.
Making you his, in every sense of the word - mentally, as you occupy his thoughts, and physically, as he wraps an arm around and beneath you, a palm pressed flat to your abdomen to keep you even closer.
"Couldn't even wait, could you? You have no patience, no restraint." He snarls into your skin as a index stretched down to rub at your slit in time with his fierce thrusts. As if he is not guilty of the exact same crime at the lack of discipline. "Look at you, being taken in the middle of the room like a whore, like a dog."
You keen out, nails digging into the carpet beneath you as a finger finds your clit. It breaks into a whine that makes a dark smile appear on your neck, with Silco refusing to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves any further. Merely a distinct, firm pressure as he breaks your pleading whine into a shriek of his name with another rough thrust, deep into the dripping wet hole that's already gripping him like a vice, as your juices stain the rug beneath.
It's probably ruined, surely stained.
Silco is unsure if he wants to replace it.
"You so insist to be taken like an animal, perhaps I should breed you like one." It's a growl, full of promise and with eagerness assuredly hidden out of his tone, that breaks into a guttural groan as you tense around him. Silco pounces on it immediately, chuckles strained between clenched teeth, "O-oh? Is that what you desire? Bred, filled with my seed until the job is done." The whimper you make is sweet, and it's as close to an admission as you can make, with panting cries tipping closer to hysterical as he leans over you.
Silco hadn't even bothered to undo his clothing, merely loosen his clothes in the appropriate places for easy access in the short-notice. You, however, were as naked as sin, and the shudder you made at the chill of his buttons and vest-straps on your back is a full-bodied shiver, which grows as your head is yanked back by your hair for Silco to hiss directly into your ear, "Is that what you want, my sweet slut? You want to be taken like this, you want me to make a mother out of you?"
Purposefully, he waits until the euphoric sob you make begins to turn into a faint semblance of affirmative syllables, before the fingers at your clit strum at a punishing, demanding pace as he sheathes into you, fully up to hilt.
You come immediately a sound that's nothing short of primal, so tight around him that his climax follows almost immediately behind. His own feral snarl is muted with a deep bite into your shoulder, the faintest hint of copper appearing under his tongue, but if anything, it only makes you whimper out his name in the midst of your orgasm with even more enthusiasm.
It's exactly what he's wanted from you. Exactly what he's needed you to be - writhing in pure pleasure, his name a prayer on your lips, and his seed spilling deep enough into you that for a pure, selfish moment, he wants it to stay in there and take.
Even with a daughter already, Silco can't say he thinks he makes an excellent father, but you?
With the potential of his heir, you are meant for motherhood.
His internal musements of a legacy with you are hazy, as he released your shoulder, pressing a kiss where a bruising bite is left in it's place. But it's an image he cannot let slip from mind, nor become unreachable to reality, as he takes note of your arms trembling beneath you as you barely have the strength to hold yourself up.
"Sh... there's a good girl..." Both arms wrap around you, securing you as you hum weakly with every faint press along the back of your neck, a gentle, rewarding nip at the tip of your spine as you creep down from your orgasmic high, and he grows soft within your filled-warmth. "That's it, there we go."
"Hmm... and you call me impatient?" You try to sound sassy, but it comes out croaked and weak enough that Silco only chuckles along your skin, petting the soft skin of your belly as he slowly eases out of you. There's a satisfaction that fills every nerve in his body, an instinctive pleasure at watching your thighs squeeze shut - not letting a drop be spilt and wasted onto what is definitely ruined carpeting beneath the two of you. It's gentle, soothing maneuvering that soon has you tucked against his chest with legs still firmly closed as he draws a random assortment of shapes along your bare-back.
"The paperwork could be completed later," He defends himself, earning another quiet purr with the brush of lips along your temple. It transform into a shudder as huskily adds, "However, kneeling suited you much better than filing paperwork. I simply couldn't resist."
"Aw, sweet. And how animalistic."
The teasing praise is met with another smirk along your skin, as he kisses you firmer along your hairline, inhaling the scent of you to the sound of another mirthful giggle as your fingers curl into his vest.
Silco jests, but only slightly. He can't deny to himself that there is a sense of rightness in the way you cling to him, secure and vulnerable in his grasp. Made only this way for him, and him alone. It's exactly the way he wants you, and after everything this life has given him, it's what he needs. Someone not only at his side, but fully, unconditionally and irrevocably a part of him. Some could see it as desperate, or even pathetic, the way he fundamentally needs you to be in his life - but you fit into it as if it where where you were always meant to be.
Filling every space that's left open, consuming every part of him. And Silco lets you, because you fit in so perfectly with him, even now as your arms reach up to wrap around his shoulders as he stands, carrying you off to enjoy the post-coital bliss in a place less-likely to leave rug-burns on your knees and palms.
You were meant to be here, and as he brushes a palm along your lower abdomen, above where he knows his seed is fully rested within, it can't be understated how right it feels that you were meant to be his, in every sense. And, selfish as Silco is, it can't be helped that he hopes his hold on you takes one step beyond what perfect bond you already have with him.
You were meant for him, just as much as he can admit that he was meant for you. Perhaps motherhood would suit you just as well.