Chapter 15
Rumor
Rat.
Rat was such a stupid thing to call me and an even more absurd nickname to be turned on by.
Was I Riot’s little rat? Before I’d found him drinking beneath the lights of his animated wall of boats and sea monsters, I was inclined to think perhaps I was something to Spade… or maybe Spade was something to me?
Regardless, when Riot looked at me like that… my head grew fuzzy and all my thoughts jumbled together in a senseless, pleading, uniform begging of desire.
Pulling my hands up to his chest, he held my wrists together with one hand, and the other wrapped around my lower back.
Everywhere he touched was heat and desire and magic.
As if my skin were alight for him. “You’ve told quite a few lies tonight,” Riot said lowly.
“Why should I believe that you really want me to let you go? Especially with that lovely pink color spreading across your pale cheeks? Not to mention the warmth I feel between these luscious thighs.”
“Pig,” I breathed without conviction. Air was pushing through my mouth in short gasps, and I knew my cheeks were red and my lips parted in desire.
I didn’t resist his hold; rather, I leaned forward, dancing my lips just over his without letting them touch.
Riot let out a small groan at the taunt of closeness.
His hard length pressed against my lower belly as I leaned forward, reminding me of how good he felt the first time we’d had sex.
It was in the forest after I’d witnessed the miracle of his stag familiar.
It’s when my hair changed. It felt a lot changed that day—perhaps a lot I didn’t want to outright admit.
This, however, wasn’t romance in a flower patch.
This was something different. Both of us annoyed at the other, though, Riot displaying jealousy was something new but not wholly unwelcome.
At least this way, I knew he cared. But he hadn’t answered any of my questions.
The selfish prick more content to steer the conversation back to himself instead of giving me anything I wanted.
But now I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
I smirked as I hovered lightly over his lips, not giving him the kiss he sought. Rolling my hips against his length, I whispered, “Is that your dagger, Riot, or are you just happy to see me?”
A dark chuckle left Riot’s throat. He let go of my wrists. “You’re the only one with the means to maim here, my dear. Now that I’ve let you go, are you going to run… or will you stay?”
“I suppose I’m eager to find out what happens to my hair after round two of fucking you. Will it turn purple?”
Riot wrapped a long strand of the black side of my hair softly around his palm. “Your hair went white because I marked you as mine… magically and otherwise. The cosmetic alterations were simply a bonus.”
“Casting spells on me without my knowledge? How very you.” I rolled my eyes, still resisting his kiss.
Riot’s hands skimmed up my thighs. “Sorry, correct me if I’m wrong, but did your devious, scheming little ass not attempt to hex me and my brothers several times over? I believe casting mysterious spells without someone’s knowledge is very you, my dear.”
I let out a small giggle and that was enough to snap the rope he was tethered by within our banter. Gripping my waist, he pulled me forward, and my lips crashed into his. The fervor of his embrace struck me like lightning. These weren’t the kisses of a man who didn’t care.
This wasn’t the hold of a man who’d leave me in the ground, not checking on me, leaving me for dead.
So then… why did he?
The answers wouldn’t be found under his shirt as I unbuttoned it… but I unbuttoned it anyway.
I reached down as our lips sucked and licked at each other’s kiss.
The taste of his sweetness and the tang of alcohol was intoxicating.
I struggled to undo his pants. All I wanted was to feel him again.
That full feeling of when he was inside me was a thought I found in the late hours as I lay in my bed alone.
The way he looked at me, the passion we shared…
it was too much. Too romantic and all-consuming when it probably meant more to me than it did to him.
Though the way he kissed me, the firmness in how he held me close as if the wind could blow me away, it said the opposite of this meaning nothing.
Though, with Riot, I never quite knew what to expect.
One moment we could be fighting alongside each other—the next he could be burying me six feet under a pile of grave dirt.
Riot was unpredictable chaos. A contradiction of mayhem that brought me to life, made me laugh, and forced my mind to wander to places I’d scarcely ever explored. Did I do the same for him?
Could he feel for me what I was beginning to feel for him?
My sister’s curse floated into my head then… audibly… horribly…
The angry, pained look on her face when she said it. “For that, sister, I curse you to never find love, and love shall never find you. May you always lose the thing most precious to you for all your days.”
Was that why he didn’t come? The curse at work… If so, if love would never find me, what was this experience with Riot?
“Hey,” he whispered in my ear, hands resting at my hips. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” I lied. “I can’t—I can’t unbutton your pants.”
“Allow me.” I moved to the side as Riot undressed. “Your turn.” He nodded toward my dress. “Or would you like to keep the dress my brother gave you on and let me fuck you in it?”
My mouth opened in shock. “I—I didn’t know.”
“You woke up in his bed, you wear the clothes he gives you, and you faint on mountaintops into his arms. How very sweet,” he said sarcastically, untying the ribbon at the top of the dress at my chest.
“I didn’t know,” I repeated, my pulse beating rapidly at just the brush of his touch against the tops of my breasts. “How do you know, though?”
“Lift your arms,” he ordered. “Get this wretchedly dull thing off. I’m tired of looking at it.”
Doing as I was told, I lifted my arms, and he pulled the dress off, tossing it to the floor.
He cupped the side of my face. “You’ll never wear black with me.
No, this dark hair was made for the deepest of reds, the most radiant of blues, and the gemstone tones of greens and purples.
” He switched hands and cupped the opposite side of my jaw.
“This white hair deserves the brightest of snowy, pure, and clear fabrics. Bright and outstanding and misunderstood, just like you. If you were mine, I would dress you like a goddess. Like my goddess.”
His words shocked my system like stepping into a hot bath of desire.
Warming me all over, awakening my bones, and stirring the magic within my soul.
He moved to kiss me then, but I pulled back.
He rose a quizzical eyebrow, and it was only then I realized we were both naked on the bed together.
I’d been so entranced by him, his words, his earnest desire bordering on obsession.
It contradicted his actions and confounded my mind, but I couldn’t help but be drawn to him like a moth to a white flame.
A flame that would surely singe my paper-thin wings.
I cupped his face then, mirroring what he’d done to me. “And if you were mine… I wouldn’t allow you to get drunk alone. We’d drink only in celebration and never in sadness.”
“I have a feeling I’d find a great many ways to celebrate with you, little rat.
” His mouth dropped to kiss my shoulder.
“I’d like to celebrate your perfect body every evening.
” He laid me onto my back, towering over me before dropping a kiss to my throat.
“And then again each morning… at lunch… and at twilight.”
A small giggle left my throat. “That is a lot of celebrating.”
“You are stunning,” he breathed, his lips flitting over my nipples. “These tits… my goddess, look at you.”
He flicked out his tongue, dancing it over my hard nipple. A breathy whimper escaped me and my back arched.
Riot let out a dark chuckle. “Look how needy you are for me. My idiot brother didn’t leave you satisfied at all, did he? No, I don’t imagine he knows the first thing about satiating such a wicked little witch such as yourself. I do, though. Don’t you ever forget that I do.”
A scratchy laugh etched from my throat. “Jealousy suits you, Riot… the nickname though reminds me of being buried alive. Remember that little detail?”
His teeth edged across my left nipple, moving to the right one. “Is this really where you want to be having this conversation? Aren’t you finding yourself as distracted as I am? Or am I doing a not very impressive job of teasing your tits?” He lightly bit at my nipple, rolling it between his teeth.
I squirmed beneath him, pushing my hips up to find his hardness pressing into me.” You’re impressive at evading every important question.”
Riot thrusted his girth against my thigh, pulling a moan from my mouth. “Is that all you’re impressed with?”
“Pig,” I said, breathless. No part of me wanted to give Riot Blackthorne’s already large ego a boost. Though, if I were honest, yes, I was impressed.
His way with words, the way his body moved with mine, and the piercing gaze that nailed me to the bed.
They were all unlike anything. At least, this was all unique for me.
Was Riot like this with every lover? This passionate and skilled?
Jealousy of my own churned within me at the thought of someone else in his bed.
Riot pulled his lips away from my breasts and looked up, meeting my gaze. “How wet does a pig make you? Let’s find out, shall we?” His palm skimmed over my belly, sinking lower, until finally he was between my thighs, cupping my sex.
My chest rose and fell at an embarrassingly rapid rate. As coy as I pretended to be, I couldn’t hide I desired him, and once he felt me, he’d know just how much I wanted him.