Chapter 15 #2
“Maybe,” I countered, “I’m just a sex witch and you’ve fallen under my spell.
” My bantering skills were hanging by a thread, and the words were becoming difficult to voice between my ragged breaths.
Riot seemed wholly unaffected, except, well, of course, the one very large part of him that was very obviously ready and at attention.
Riot tilted his head. “Could very well be. If so, I hope you never release me from your cunning enchantment.” His long finger sank into my slit, finding the pool of my longing awaiting him.
Riot let out a guttural groan. “Fuck. Fuck me, Rumor. You’re so fucking wet.
All this for me?” He swiped my slick center, swirling it up and around my clit.
I sucked in a sharp inhale of breath before nodding. “I guess so. What are you going to do about it?”
The tip of his finger teased at my entrance, circling me, toying with me. “Do you think you deserve my cock with how you’ve acted?”
I nodded pathetically. “I think you’ll give me whatever I want. Won’t you?”
“Do you want me, Rumor?”
I nodded again, my hips squirming, begging for more of him.
“Say it,” he ordered lowly. “Say it out loud.”
“Of course, it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t aim to humiliate me a little.”
“Is it that horrific to admit, rat? Your body screams it. This nectar here…” Lifting his hand to his mouth, he licked my wetness from his fingertips. “Certainly tastes like you want me. You taste like mine. Won’t you indulge me—”
“I want you,” I interrupted. The heat in my lower belly, the warmth between my thighs, seeing him muscular, broad, and naked on top of me. Like some sort of shimmering deity hovering above me. Even drunk and tired, he was beautiful. “I want you, Riot. Now, shut up and fuck me already.”
Riot let out a dark chuckle before aligning himself with my center.
Before I could say another word, he thrusted inside me.
The stretch and fullness overwhelmed me, pushing out a cry that cracked through his dimly lit bedroom.
“You do want me,” he answered roughly, moving in and out.
“You want me so fucking bad, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed, raking my nails down his back.
“Harder,” he demanded. “Claw me as hard as you can.”
It wasn’t a challenging demand to obey. With every intrusion and withdrawal of his cock, my fingers dug deeper and deeper into his back.
I climbed my nails up his shoulder blades and along his shoulders, pressing so firmly, I was sure I’d draw blood.
“I like that,” he said roughly, pummeling me harder until I moaned again.
“Good,” I managed. “I hope you bleed.”
“Oh, goddess, I hope so, too.”
The build between my thighs heightened. Riot didn’t let up on his pace, hitting the deep place inside that pushed me over the edge.
My mouth clamped down on the flesh of his shoulder as I came.
Digging my teeth into him to muffle my scream, burying my nails into his back as he buried himself inside me.
He broke, groaning out his release, as my fingertips slicked with blood. Eyeing me with jagged breaths, he swiped his thumb along my lower lip, pulling it back and showing me the crimson stain on his skin.
“You made me bleed.”
“Good.” I licked the tang of his blood from my lips from where I bit him. “You deserve it.”
“Do I?” he asked. “After the heights of pleasure I just took you to?”
“I think you can do it again,” I teased, kissing his lips, giving him a taste of his own blood. “Don’t you?”
“You sex hungry, no, starving, little thing.” He kissed me back, sliding his tongue against mine. Pressing into my hips, he revealed he was hard again.
My eyebrows rose. “Who’s sex hungry and starved now?”
“Oh, I don’t deny it. Not when you’re involved.”
It was probably obvious, but I’d never considered he had lusted for me so badly.
“I don’t want to stop.” For those moments, nothing else existed.
It was akin to sleep, when I didn’t want to get up.
Or it was like my bath, where I wanted to stay under the hot water forever.
Sex with Riot was a holding place. A blip in time where everything stood still and nothing of importance was happening outside the sanctuary of Riot’s bed.
An escape. An escape that felt like bliss and reprieve.
How could anyone manage to do anything else?
I could become easily addicted to just fucking him over and over again.
Maybe I was a sex witch after all. Or maybe Riot was right and I was starved.
Starved for something that felt good, something normal.
Though, sex with Riot felt far from normal.
I doubted any mortal man in Willowspire or elsewhere could have had me screaming and panting and wet like he did.
Riot purred in my ear. “Who said anything about stopping? I’m just getting started, rat. You think I’m done with you? Turn over.”
Before I could acquiesce to his request, he reached under the small of my back and flipped me over onto my belly. “Think you can just throw me around?” I teased over my shoulder.
“I know I can,” he answered, rising onto his knees behind me.
I assessed the waves of my hair that cascaded over my arms. “No hair changes? No glowing white light this time? Are you losing your magical touch, Riot?”
He snorted. “That just bonded you to me forever. Sorry, Spade, you’re too slow.”
I rolled my eyes. “You and your jealousy.”
Grabbing my hips, Riot pulled me onto my knees and my backside towards his hips. “My brother always wants what’s mine. But this, you, he can’t have, and it kills him.”
“Is that right? Well, I’ll have you know I’m still making up my mind between the two of you. Or, maybe I don’t want either. Have you considered that?”
Riot let out a low growl before grabbing his hard length and lining it up with my opening.
With a hard thrust, I cried out into the pillow.
“No,” he said on a deep intrusion. “I’ve considered no option other than you being mine, Rumor Malefic.
Play your stupid little games with us all you want, but you know the fucking truth.
You feel it right here inside you.” He fucked me hard then, knocking the air from my lungs each time he hit me with another thrust.
I cried out into my pillow, gripping the sheets as he held my hips, moving in and out at a maddening pace. He reached around and found my clit. His fingers worked as he pummeled me from behind. Teasing, taunting the wetness over the apex of my thighs. “You feel so good,” I let out.
“You feel perfect,” he answered through gritted teeth.
My fling with Spade had really gotten under his skin.
Through my muddled, sex-hazy thoughts, I wondered if what he said was true.
Was Spade just toying with me to get at his brother?
Was I caught between a pair of brothers’ rivalry?
Or simply the evil dealings of passion-thirsty, lustful daimons who felt like trifling with a sex witch?
Part of my mind wanted to believe that was true, as unsavory as it was.
Carnal desires were simple enough to comprehend.
They were males, lords, daimons, who of course wanted sex.
Who knows how many times over the years the chance presented itself, what with being trapped in their castle for so long.
Not to mention their affliction turning them into daimons at midnight.
They’d locked themselves in the cellar for all those years, night after night…
No wonder they’d each gone mad in their own particular ways.
I would have too. Hell, I was turning mad and evil without the burden of a compulsion to transform into a daimon. I couldn’t blame them for what their time here had done to their sensibilities.
However… if that were the case, if I were just a plaything for dueling Blackthorne boys, why did my magic and my body react the way it did?
The day prior, at least I think it was the day prior, I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept for—I’d had sex with Spade.
The brooding Blackthorne who I thought hated me.
Despite it all, he’d shown me care and tenderness.
He’d come for me when no one else did. During our moment on the mountain, I’d jumped into his point of view.
I felt what he felt, which was a whole lot, and saw myself through his eyes—literally.
Would such a thing happen if something real wasn’t there?
And Riot… When we’d first been intimate in the forest, the atmosphere changed—hell, I changed.
Half of my hair sat atop my head still stained Riot-white.
If this were just a lover’s tryst, why would that happen?
How did our magics and bodies dance together so effortlessly?
He said those things happened because he made me his.
Was I his?
Was I Spade’s?
This was all so confusing. My heart felt something for each of them…
but I didn’t know who to choose. Guilt pressed in on me, dampening my experience with Riot.
At least my face was hidden from view. How could I be so torn between two men?
Riot’s fingers dug into my hips, bringing me back to the present.
His other hand found my clit again, hitting against it with the pads of his fingers, matching the tempo of his thrusts, beat for beat.
It was what I needed to escape my thoughts.
My orgasm rung out through the castle again, followed by another, and another, as his fingers and thrusts continued their assault.
“More,” he ordered roughly, pulling out and moving to sit just below the headboard. “Climb on top of me.” Again, without waiting, he picked me up and put me in the position he wanted, reminding me of his strength and how weightless I was compared to how strong he was.
“Like this?” I asked, straddling his lap.
Riot nodded. “Yes, like this. I want to watch you take me this way.”
We were close this way, eye to eye, lips to lips, breath to breath. There’d be no hiding my thoughts or emotions in this position. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Being exposed, being vulnerable… those were not my favorite feelings. Nevertheless, I conceded to try.
Riot took my wrist and guided it down. My palm found his length and took him into my hand.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, suddenly feeling like this was all new.
Sex was one thing… this felt more like intimacy, which was foreign territory for me.
Riot knew it, too, with the way he watched me with quiet curiosity.
“Do whatever you want to do. Whatever it is, you’ll look beautiful doing it, I know that.” His lips found mine in a soft, claiming kiss as I palmed his length, rubbing him from shaft to tip.
“Does this feel nice?” I asked.
He nodded, his touch moving from my hips, up my ribs, and cupping my breasts.
I let out a sigh, relishing the feeling of holding him, feeling our slickness. His thumbs rolled my nipples and he watched my face. “The effect I have on you… the effect you have on me… how can you not see it as clear as I do?”
“I—I—” I whimpered as I lowered myself and took him in.
I didn’t know what had been on the tip of my tongue before my bliss wrecked through me.
I do? I don’t know? I want to? Whatever response within me died a small death after small death.
We both groaned in unison. Riot took hold of my hips, encouraging me to move.
I rocked back and forth, feeling his length fill and stretch me.
“You feel exquisite,” he whispered roughly as I rode him. “And you look like a goddess.” As sarcastic and irreverent as Riot usually was, not a hint of either lingered on his sentiments. His gaze dropped down my body, up to my lips, and rested on my eyes with heavy lids and ardent focus.
The way he was looking at me…
I felt it, too.
Our magics danced across my skin, soft and wild. Wolf and stag in their eternal dance of ashes. Maybe he was glowing white, maybe I was fluttering through another release and seeing stars, but the look of him—everything about him felt so right in that moment.
I didn’t want it to end—and apparently neither did Riot because we continued into the night hours.
When I was spent, sore, and sated, I curled into his chest. To my delight, my mind was empty.
Gloriously and blissfully without thought or worry as my eyes drifted closed.
The beat of his heart lulling me to sleep.
Just as unawareness was claiming me, I felt the phantom breath of Riot’s whispered words on the top of my head as he planted a soft kiss. It could have been a dream, or perhaps, it was real. “Pick me, please. Choose me as your mate.”