CHAPTER 30
Evren
Gladiator - Jann
Riven sleeps so peacefully. After arguing with her all over the Lower Layers to find a fucking restaurant she approved of, she inhaled her food and promptly fell asleep with half of it still in her mouth.
I had to fish it out before she choked.
Because I don’t want her dead and I definitely don’t want her choking on anything besides me.
I shake my head at the thought, I hate her.
Why would I think of her like that?
I don’t want to see her ever again after she fixes my car.
I wanted her dead.
Now I kill for her.
She ordered some stupidly expensive burger—nearly costing me a hundred credits because her Highness wanted real meat.
She keeps testing me.
I don't think she understands she's not testing my patience anymore.
She's testing my sanity
I should make her fix my car and be done with it.
That's it.
Except I can't seem to stay the fuck away from that hatred she carries for me.
That stubborn refusal to bend, even when she should. Every time she fights me, I find myself wanting to push harder just to see how far she'll go.
I stare at her from behind my desk.
She looks so peaceful.
And somehow, despite everything, my body is reacting to her again.
I drag a hand over my face.
This is becoming a fucking problem.
The image of her eyes, locking onto mine while I tell her she will never want to see me ever again is driving me crazy.
She should be scared, why is she not?
If anyone walks in, they will probably see my cock straining painfully against my jeans.
I slide my hand to palm myself, the friction offering a little compared to her cunt that would be tight for sure.
But right now, all I can think about is the look in her eyes when her consciousness fully returns.
That fleeting second when she realizes exactly where she is.
How desperately she'll want to fucking end my existence.
And for some fucked-up reason, the thought won't leave my head.
I turn my head and look at her, sleeping on my couch, in my garage, her stomach full of food I paid for after she nearly choked on it because she fucking fell asleep.
My gaze drifts to her soft lips, twitching slightly, probably dreaming about insulting someone.
I stand abruptly, hard enough that my chair slams into the wall, and stalk toward her sleeping form.
I lean over her.
My eyes are blazing, glowing in the darkness.
The entire garage is dark, the only light coming from the cyber-lit streets outside. They're far enough away that my office remains almost completely black.
Except for my eyes.
I know I should let her sleep, but fuck.
That spoiled brat, that little demon who’s not afraid of me or anyone here when she should.
Every instinct tells me to walk away.
Instead, I take another step closer.
My fingers brush a stray strand of jet-black hair from her forehead, my touch is rough, calloused.
She shifts in her sleep.
Then just settles again, dead asleep, completely unaware of me hovering over her like a fucking creep, which I am.
She sighs in her sleep, letting out a soft moan that sends shivers down my spine.
My entire body tenses up, as if bracing itself for something.
I feel my adrenal booster flood my system, my body ignoring every order my brain gives it.
The moan seems to reach deep into my core, causing my cock to twitch in the confines of my jeans.
I can feel my piercing rubbing against my boxers, making my hips thrusts instinctively to seek the friction.
I draw a sharp breath.
I trail my fingers along her jaw and chin, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip.
Her skin is smooth, impossibly soft beneath my fingertips.
Her lips look natural—pink, soft.
Not like the other spoiled brats I’ve fucked before.
Like Lira—everything about her had been injected, sculpted, perfected until she looked more synthetic than human.
Riven, though? She’s all sharp edges, bruised pride, and stubborn fire.
To anyone else, my thumb on her lip, it would look almost tender.
But it’s just me, getting off on the thought of that mouth cursing me, threatening me, fighting me and then sucking my dick off until I’m dry as a gearbox with no oil.
I want to drag her outside and throw her back into the Upper Layers.
Fuck the car.
Fuck the debt.
Fuck everything.
She needs to get the fuck away from me before I forget why I wanted her dead in the first place.
She shifts again in her sleep, and her lips part slightly, probably about to snore.
The sight of them opening makes my thumb tremble ever so slightly.
I freeze.
I can feel the pre-cum leaking and staining my boxers and jeans.
My cock is thick, pulsing,
My breath catches.
My heart starts pounding so fast it’s almost painful.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
How the fuck am I supposed to not fuck her mouth now?
I take a step back, my fingers twitching to reach my belt.
Suddenly, quietly, Riven lets out, again, a fucking soft moan, and she licks her lips.
For a second, my brain freezes like some damn robots in the Upper Layers when given an order.
My cock is painful, very painful, my jeans and boxers are almost soaked.
Fuck it.
I reach for my belt, unfasten it, and slide it free, take her wrists and bind them together, neat and unyielding.
Then I move them above her head, making sure not to apply too much pressure.
With my free hand, I unbutton my jeans, hook my fingers in the waistband and pull down, boxers and all, freeing myself.
My pierced cock bounces against my stomach before settling straight.
I grab the base of my cock with one hand, the other still holding her bonded wrists, and give it a harsh stroke my eyes lock on her lips.
The pre-cum beads at the slit, and I smear it across the head with my thumb.
“Open wider, troublemaker.” I murmur, my voice a husky command in the silent garage.
I guide myself with my hand, the broad, flushed tip of my cock nudging gently against her bottom lip.
I apply enough pressure to part her lips further, to feel the warm, damp breath from her mouth against my sensitive skin.
A low groan escapes me.
“Fuck...” I begin to push forward, just the thick crown, testing the give of Riven’s relaxed mouth.
I keep my eyes on her, waiting to see if she’ll wake up and try to kill me.
She doesn’t. She’s probably too exhausted from working on the car.
Suddenly I feel her tongue move and rub against her inner cheek.
The feeling is exquisite torture.
The warm, wet cavern of her mouth, still slack with sleep, yielding to the insistent pressure of my cock makes me see stars.
I push apart her lips, the pierced head of my cock sliding over her tongue, and then I feel it again, the unconscious sliding movement of her tongue against the underside of my shaft as she shifts in her sleep.
A sharp, ragged breath hisses through my teeth.
My grip on the base tightens, my knuckles white.
I watch mesmerized, as her lips stretch to accommodate my thick, veiny pierced cock, as her throat works with a soft, sleepy swallow that sends a pulse of pure fire straight to my core.
I groan, the words torn from me.
I can’t hold back, the sight of Riven, sleeping and yet taking me so perfectly shatters what little restraint I have left.
I sink deeper, the thick length filling her mouth.
I bury myself to the hilt, feeling the wet heat and the faint, rhythmic pulse of her tongue against me.
I release the base and reach down, my fingers threading into her hair, not to pull, but to anchor myself.
“You feel that?” I whisper, my voice thick with lust, my hips giving an unvoluntary, shallow roll. “That’s me, in your mouth.”
I begin to move, a slow, deep glide, withdrawing until just the tip rests on her tongue before pushing back in, setting a deliberate, possessive rhythm.
My eyes are dark, fever-bright even with the glowing, fixes on her face, watching for any sign of her waking, craving the moment her eyes open and realizes what I’m doing to her.
I can’t wait for her to try to kill me, because, I’ll let her.
Suddenly, a violent gag reflex seizes Riven’s throat is the trigger.
Her eyes—that pale blue and pale green I'd fucking kneel for if they so much as asked me to—fly open, wide and disoriented, clouded with sleep for the briefest second before shock crashes in.
No.
I don’t kneel for anyone.
They kneel for me.