Chapter 15 Riley
FIFTEEN
RILEY
Riley was lost in the kiss and in the overwhelming truth of what Adrian had just confessed.
His words—that she mattered more than any title, that he would renounce everything to prove it—hadn't just been spoken.
She had felt them. The mate bond had thrummed with a conviction so absolute it stole the air from her lungs.
It was an intimacy she'd never known, experiencing his deep and selfless love through their bond, and it terrified her in the best possible way.
No one had ever felt this way about her. No one had ever offered her everything while demanding nothing in return.
She broke the kiss, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. The words tumbled out in a rush, fueled by a certainty that burned away every shadow of doubt. "I want the full bond. I want a future with you, Adrian. I can't picture living a life without you by my side."
He went perfectly still, his hands still cradling her face. His blue eyes searched hers, the golden flecks within them glowing like embers in the foyer light. For a heartbeat, she wondered if the magnitude of her surrender had stunned him into silence.
Then the most breathtaking smile she'd ever seen transformed his face. It wasn't just a smile; it was a sunrise, breaking through a lifetime of disciplined clouds. It reached his eyes, crinkling the corners, and held a joy so pure it made her heart clench.
Without a word, he bent and scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. A startled laugh escaped her as he carried her toward the grand staircase, his steps sure and swift.
"Adrian—"
"What?" he murmured against her ear. "I'm not wasting another moment."
He took the stairs two at a time, his strength effortless. At the top, he shouldered open the door to his bedroom, kicked it shut behind them with a definitive thud, and set her down gently in the center of the room. The air between them crackled, thick with promise and the scent of her arousal.
He kissed her again, this one deeper and hungrier.
Her fingers flew to the buttons of his blue shirt, fumbling in her haste.
The fine cotton parted under her hands, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and the black-and-orange tattoo that wrapped his powerful bicep.
She pushed the fabric off his shoulders, and it fell to the floor forgotten.
"Someone's eager," he noted, a dark amusement in his tone as his hands slid to the thin straps of her black dress.
"I'm done waiting for what I want," she breathed, her voice husky. "Done running from love."
He pushed the straps down, his knuckles brushing her skin, leaving trails of fire. The dress whispered over her hips and pooled at her feet, leaving her in only her simple black panties. His gaze was a physical caress, heating her skin everywhere it touched.
He didn't speak. He bent his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear.
A sharp gasp tore from her throat as her whole body arched into the contact, every nerve ending singing.
He lavished attention there before trailing a path of open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat, over her collarbone, until he took one taut nipple into his mouth.
The sensation was electric, amplified by the thrumming connection between them.
Through the bond, she could feel the sharp edge of his own desire, the controlled ferocity of his need, and it fed hers into a roaring blaze.
He worshipped each breast until she was writhing, her fingers tangling in his short, thick hair.
"Adrian, please…"
He guided her backward until her knees hit the edge of the massive bed. A gentle nudge and she was falling onto the cool cotton, the scent of him enveloping her. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and drew them down her legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving hers.
Then he settled between her thighs, his shoulders pushing her legs wider.
The first slow, deliberate lick made her cry out.
He didn't rush. He explored her with a torturous, meticulous focus, learning every fold and every sensitive spot, as if committing her to memory.
The bond between them pulsed, a live current connecting her pleasure directly to his fierce satisfaction.
Every motion of his tongue was echoed by a wave of possessive hunger from him, creating a feedback loop of sensation that had her trembling on the edge far too quickly.
If this is what a half-bond feels like, she thought, her mind hazy with pleasure, how much more intense can the full bond possibly be? The thought didn't scare her; it fueled a desperate, greedy need for more of him, all of him.
The coil of pleasure tightened, unbearable and exquisite. She was seconds from shattering.
"I need you inside me. Now. I can't wait for your full mark any longer," she breathed, her voice raw.
He went still. Then he lifted his head, his eyes pure molten gold. The look he gave her was utterly feral. He rose from his knees in one fluid, powerful motion, looming over her.
He didn't immediately undress. He stood there, watching her as she lay spread before him, her chest heaving. His expression was a complex map of triumph, reverence, and a hunger that matched her own.
"Say it again," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.
"I want you. I want the full bond."
With a deliberate slowness that was its own form of torture, he reached for the fastening of his charcoal slacks. The soft rasp of the zipper was obscenely loud in the quiet room. He pushed the fabric down over his hips, taking his black boxers with them, and stepped free.
Riley's breath caught. He was magnificent. All powerful, corded muscle and tan skin, and at the center of him, his arousal was thick and heavy, the evidence of his need for her undeniable. A primal thrill shot through her, sharp and sweet.
He's all mine.
He didn't join her on the bed with urgency. Instead, he lay back against the pillows and held out a hand to her.
"Come here," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in her bones. "Take what you need. Take everything. It's all yours."
The offer undid her completely. This wasn't a man taking; this was a man surrendering.
She moved, sliding over him until she straddled his hips.
His large cock pressed against her core, and she shuddered with anticipation.
She reached down between them, her fingers wrapping around his hard length, and guided him to her slick entrance.
Then, with a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, she took him inside her.
It was an invasion of perfection. Inch by glorious inch, he filled her, stretching her in a way that was overwhelmingly right.
A choked gasp escaped her lips as he seated himself fully within her, a feeling of such profound completeness.
This was the missing piece. Not just physically, but in her soul.
She didn't wait for permission. Setting the rhythm herself, she began to move, rocking against him, her palms flat on his chest for leverage.
He let her lead, his hands coming to rest on her hips, his grip firm but not directive.
Through the half-bond, the feedback loop of sensation became a torrent.
Her pleasure spiked, and she felt the echo of his own pleasure, a dizzying cocktail of feeling where she couldn't tell where her body ended and his began.
It was unity. It was madness. It was everything.
Her muscles coiled tighter, pleasure building to a critical peak. She could feel him too, a leashed tension in his powerful frame, a conscious restraint he was clinging to even now.
"Stop holding back," she panted, her rhythm faltering.
A growl ripped from his throat. In a blur of motion, his hands tightened on her hips, and he flipped them, her world spinning until her back hit the mattress and his heavy weight settled over her.
His control shattered.
His pace transformed into something primal and untamed.
Each thrust was faster, harder, and deeper, a relentless claiming that stole her breath and her reason.
The intensity was terrifying and exquisite.
Her climax tore through her without warning, a detonation of white-hot pleasure that shattered her vision into stars.
She cried out, her body convulsing around him, and through the bond, she felt the precise moment his orgasm was teetering.
"I'm going to mark you now," he growled against her neck, his voice thick with possession and the edge of his own climax.
"I want it. I want everything," she gasped, her mind hazy but her purpose crystalline. "Mark me, Adrian."
As his release surged into her, hot and claiming, she felt the change in his hand. Then came the searing pain as his extended claws scored deep into the skin of her left hip, directly over the faint half-mark.
The pain was sharp and bright, but it was instantly swallowed by a cataclysm of sensation.
The completed mate bond didn’t just hum; it roared to life, a synaptic floodgate blowing open.
Every nerve ending lit up with a shared, blinding ecstasy.
Her second orgasm wasn't a wave; it was a tectonic shift, wrenched from her by the sheer, overwhelming force of their souls slamming together permanently.
And then… silence. A profound, echoing silence in her own mind that was suddenly, impossibly, occupied.
I love you. You are mine. You are everything.
His voice. Not in her ears, but in the very center of her consciousness, clear and intimate and undeniable. With a sense of wonder, she reached back, focusing her own chaotic joy into that new, shared space.
I love you, too. You're mine.
The aftershocks left them trembling. Eventually, he moved, pulling out of her and collapsing onto his side, gathering her tightly against him.
She nestled her head against his chest, listening to the frantic drum of his heart.
As their breathing slowly synced, something else did too.
The wild, racing rhythms of their heartbeats gradually smoothed, merged, and settled into one single, steady, synchronized pulse.
"Is that… supposed to happen?" she whispered into the quiet.
His fingers traced a gentle path down her spine. "Yes. It means the mate bond is complete and pure."
A profound peace, deeper than any she'd ever known, settled over her. The fears that had haunted her for a lifetime—of being trapped, diminished, abandoned—felt like ghosts from someone else's story.
Cradled against him, feeling the rhythm of their merged heartbeat, she was not scared. She finally understood wholeness.
With this man, who had fought his own struggles to offer her a choice, love wasn't a cage. It was the foundation of a new kind of strength. A smile touched her lips as her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted into the deepest, most secure sleep of her life.