Chapter 31 #2
“That so?” he drawls. “Well then, stray… use me. Show me what you want.”
I don’t hesitate.
I unbutton his jeans, dragging them down over his hips, watching him spring free. He’s thick and hard, already twitching in my hand when I wrap my fingers around him and stroke—slow, tight, teasing.
His jaw clenches, eyes dark. “Sin.”
I glance up with a sly smile, licking my lips. “I will,” I murmur. “But first… it’s my turn to play.”
Before he can speak, I slide down between his legs, kiss along the sharp line of his hip, and then press my tongue to the base of his cock. A groan rips from his throat as I take him in, inch by inch, wet and slow.
“Goddamn,” he mutters, one hand finding my hair, the other curling into the sheets.
I suck him deeper, letting my lips glide down the thick length, pulling back only to tease the head with my tongue before swallowing him again.
His hips twitch. His breathing gets rough.
I keep my rhythm steady, dragging soft moans from him as he tilts his head back and exhales sharp through his teeth.
But then Riot moves. Fast.
He shifts, rising from where he was sprawled beside me on the bed. The mattress dips, then lifts as he stands, towering over me. He steps back just enough to grab my hips, dragging me to the edge. My head tilts over the side, lips parted, throat exposed—offered up like a fucking sacrifice.
“You want to play?” His voice is rough, thick with need. “Then open that pretty mouth and take it.”
I do.
He slides into me, slow at first, then deeper, watching my eyes as he begins to thrust. One hand fists my hair, the other cradles my jaw—not cruel, but possessive, controlling. His hips move with lethal intent, fucking my mouth with unrelenting rhythm.
“Look at you,” he groans. “Taking it so well.”
His voice vibrates in my ears. I’m soaked. Aching. Shorts already discarded somewhere on the floor. My thighs press together, desperate for friction as he drives into my mouth.
And he knows it.
His free hand trails down between my legs. Fingers slip between folds slick with want, teasing, stroking. He groans when he feels how wet I am.
“This what you wanted?” he growls, voice thick and low. “My cock down your throat, fingers buried in your soaked little pussy while you fall apart for me?”
I moan around him in answer, throat full, eyes watering, but I don’t stop. Neither does he.
“Good girl,” he mutters, thrusting deeper into my mouth. “That’s it, baby, take it. You’re fuckin’ perfect like this.”
His fingers curl inside me, stroking that spot that makes me see stars.
“God, you're so fucking wet,” he grits. “Such a good little stray, letting me use your mouth while I make you come.”
My thighs tremble. I can’t hold still. The coil snaps so fast and hard it punches the breath from my lungs. I sob around him as I cum again, body arching, hips bucking up into his hand.
“Fuck, look at you,” he growls, slowing just enough to let me ride it out. “So fucking beautiful when you break for me.”
Only then does he pull out of my mouth, chest heaving, jaw tight.
“Get on top,” he says, rough and commanding. “Now. Ride me like you mean it.”
I climb over him and line myself up, dragging the head of his cock through my slick and sensitive folds. Then I sink down, inch by inch, my mouth falling open as he fills me.
Jesus fuck.
We both moan.
He’s deep. Stretching. Perfect.
I start to move, slow at first, rolling my hips, grinding in tight circles that make him curse under his breath. His hands clamp down on my hips, guiding me, letting me take what I need.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls. “Just like that.”
I ride him harder, chasing another high, my hands braced on his chest. His muscles flex under me, his hips jerking up to meet mine. When I cum again, it’s a white-hot wave that rips through me, and I collapse forward, forehead against his.
But Riot’s not done.
He grabs my ass, fingers digging in, and flips us fast. My breath catches as I land on my hands and knees, bare and open beneath him. Then he slams into me from behind—deep and unrelenting—and I cry out, arching hard as the bed groans beneath us.
“I’m not letting you stop there,” he growls behind me, voice rough with need, with possession. His fingers grip my hips so tight it borders on bruising. “You’re gonna take every fucking drop.”
“Then fuck me, Carter,” I gasp, panting, already shaking again. “Fill me up. Let me feel it.”
He does.
He pounds into me, the rhythm punishing, and every thrust hits deep, angled perfectly to keep me writhing, eyes rolling back. The slap of skin, his harsh breathing, my broken moans, they echo off the motel walls like a war cry.
“That what you want, Little Stray?” he grits out, one hand sliding up to wrap around my throat, hauling my chest back against him. “Want me to ruin you for anyone else?”
“You already did,” I choke out, voice ragged, thighs trembling. “Fuck, Riot, I’m so close—”
“Don’t hold back,” he says, lips at my ear. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Milk every fucking drop from me.”
His fingers find my clit again, rough and fast, and I break. My hands scramble to grip the headboard, just as the bed creaks.
Then it cracks.
The frame gives out beneath us with a violent crunch, dropping us half a foot to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs and broken slats.
We both freeze.
Then we laugh.
But it doesn’t stop him.
He stays inside me, grabs my hips, and fucks me harder, the rhythm brutal, perfect. I reach behind me, grab his face, and kiss him—deep, messy, desperate.
I scream his name, body convulsing as my climax rips through me like a detonation. My back bows, mouth open in a silent gasp.
He holds me right there, buried deep, hips rocking through my orgasm as he loses it too, groaning low and primal as he spills inside me. The heat of it makes me shudder again.
We stay like that—connected, panting, slick with sweat and satisfaction—until the last tremor fades and I collapse forward onto the mattress. Riot follows, one arm wrapping tight around my waist as he kisses my spine, lips dragging slowly across my shoulder blade.
Then, through the paper-thin walls, Luca yells, “Well, I’m glad that’s over. Can we sleep now?”
Riot laughs into my skin. I grin into the pillow.
“Think we broke the bed,” I mumble.
“Worth it,” Riot replies, pulling me tighter. “You’re mine tonight, Vega.”
“And every night after,” I whisper.