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The first thing you register after waking is the neon light peaking through the drapes. The second is the warm presence pressed right up against your back, chasing off the undercity chill. And the third is the vice grip Silco’s got on your tit.
It’s not painful, but you’re going to need the jaws of life to remove his hand. You try to twist around in bed to face him, but there’s another arm snaked under your ribs that holds you firmly in place.
“Silco,” you whisper.
His breathing remains the same, each exhale warming your shoulder.
“Silco, let me adjust.”
More even breaths.
“Hey, wake up,” voice more stern as you wriggle around in his vice grip. “My arm’s falling asleep.”
Nothing.
You huff.
“‘Light sleeper’ my ass,” you grumble and crane your neck towards the hand holding your tit like a stress ball, but the position you’re in keeps Silco’s hand just out of range of your teeth. Frustrated, you kick a foot back and make solid contact with his shin. Silco groans into your shoulder but only latches on tighter.
“Holy shit, wake up.” Legs flail and kick at everything within range. The sheet is kicked off the bed entirely in the process, and you’re just about ready to try biting him again when a thigh slots itself between your legs. You go completely still, gauging if Silco’s awake (how the fuck could he still be asleep?) and get your answer when a sleep-laden chuckle rumbles into your back.
“Finally,” Silco’s lips brush your shoulder ever-so-softly. “I’m trying to get some sleep, darling.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, this is a very serious matter.” His lips are intentional in the way they skim against your shoulder as he speaks. “I need good, restful sleep, and I can’t have that with you flailing about.”
“You were getting some pretty good sleep when you wouldn’t stop groping me,” you hiss over your shoulder. “And you’re really going tell me to settle down when it’s your fault that–”
The leg pressed between your thighs shifts, rubbing against your core with just enough pressure to derail your train of thought mid-sentence. You fight to ignore how good his thigh feels against you, determined not to let him off the hook so easily, but quickly lose any and all resolve as the friction between your thighs intensifies. At some point unbeknownst to you, Silco stops moving altogether and simply lets you ride his thigh, content to feel you find pleasure at your own pace.
“That’s it, love,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Use me.”
A stray thought of fuck this smug asshole flits through your mind for approximately one second before you’re shifting your hips at a new angle and whimpering pathetically. Teeth graze your ear and fuck, how can this feel so good? Breaths become short and stuttered as the tension in your lower abdomen curls tighter and tighter until–
The world shifts around you so rapidly you have no grasp of what’s happening until you’re on your back with your hands pinned above your head, pulled back from the edge of your orgasm in a way that makes you consider the repercussions of killing the leader of Zaun, but quickly abandon any pre-meditated murder plots when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple.
“Fuck, Silco,” your entire body trembles under his teasing. Fingers tweak your other nipple in a slow pinch that has your hips raising off the bed in search of something to alleviate the terrible ache between your legs. “Please touch me.”
“Not this time,” Silco licks his way up your neck and along your jaw until he’s nose to nose with you, “If you’re going to keep me from sleeping, then we’ll find something else equally enjoyable. You’ll come like this or you won’t come at all.”
A shrill keen rips from your throat when lips descend on you once more, nipple held in place by chipped teeth as the tip of his tongue flicks mercilessly across your straining bud.
Mind thoroughly fogged, you’re wholly unprepared for the onslaught of Silco’s lips and tongue as they move to travel over every inch of your chest, stopping to pay special attention to the spots that has little gasps and moans spilling from you. You’re quickly becoming overstimulated as he continues to torment each breast with lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers, until you’re reduced to a squirming, begging mess beneath him. Countless love marks litter your chest in a dazzling display of purple and red that will be admired for days to come.
“Janna, please,” you whine as another bruise is sucked into the outer swell of your breast. The tension in your core has reached fever pitch and you’re standing on the edge of the precipice looking over, so fucking close, but unable to lean into the fall.
Silco knows the frustrated little sighs you release; he hears them every time he takes you to the edge only to pull the carpet out from under you. He revels in them, in the knowledge that he can bring you such immense pleasure without ever dipping his mouth below your ribs. But as much as he likes the control he has in this moment, he’s hungry, and he can’t have a taste until you come undone for him.
Your eyes lock with Silco’s as he licks a slow stripe up from the underside of your breast. Fingers roll one nipple at the exact instant moment his tongue curls over the other and it sends you flying over the edge. You’re clenching around nothing without even an obscenely-perfect nose to grind on, and something about that absolutely thrills you. Desperate pleas fill the air as Silco continues his assault on you, carrying on until the last of your aftershocks fade and you’ve become boneless beneath him.
It takes a minute for the world to resolidify around you, bits and pieces of sensory information trekking through the melted sludge of your brain. The neon light peaking through the drapes. The heavy panting breath from above, spreading over your torso with each exhale. And, to your extreme dismay, a hand palming at your tit.