Chapter 18 #4
Before I can recover, Riot slides his fingers into me with no warning. My hips jolt, and his mouth is right there, ghosting kisses over my inner thigh, teeth grazing the skin before he pulls back and looks up at me through his lashes.
“You taste like sin,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “And fuck, Sawyer…you sound better moaning for me instead of Jasper.” He crooks his fingers, finding that spot inside me, making my back arch and my toes curl.
“You feel that?” he growls, working his fingers harder, faster, each motion soaking wet and so obscene it makes my eyes flutter shut. “That little flutter around my fingers? That’s you begging for me. Your pussy knows who’s touching her. Knows exactly who she belongs to tonight.”
He leans in, lips tracing fire on my thigh, so close I can feel his words as much as I hear them. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Huh? You gonna let me feel you fall apart on my fucking fingers?”
I whimper, trying to catch my breath, hips rocking with every thrust. I’m so close. So fucking close.
But—something in me snaps. I reach down, grabbing his wrist to keep him still.
He freezes, tension thrumming between us. “I told you, Riot…I’m done waiting.”
His eyes darken, mouth opens, pupils wide. I sit up, breath sawing out of my chest, and grab the hem of his shirt, yanking it up and over his head. He helps barely—he’s too stunned, too wrecked by the way I take control.
His tattoos stand out stark in the lamplight, especially the one that disappears into the waistband of his sweats. That one makes me weak.
His chest heaves as I press my mouth to his chest, licking a slow line across his sternum, then lower—kissing, biting, dragging my teeth down the ridges of his abs. He fists the sheets, holding himself back so hard I hear the fabric strain.
My hand slides down, rubbing him through his sweats, feeling him hot and so hard he’s practically trembling. I look up—our eyes lock, and I see the hunger, the awe, the way he’s letting me drive him wild.
I whisper, “I’m gonna take your cock out, Riot. I want to feel you in my throat.”
He exhales violently, as if he just got punched in the lungs. “Fuck, Sawyer…” he rasps. “You’re gonna ruin me.”
I don’t let him recover. I press him back, my palm splayed on his chest, and I guide him down until his back hits the mattress. He clenches his jaw as I slide off the bed, slow, owning every second.
Riot watches me, lips parted, chest rising with each breath like he’s trying not to explode already.
I reach up and drag the waistband of his sweats down slowly—keeping my eyes locked on his. My nails rake over his thighs, watching the muscles jump. But then—I let myself look.
My gaze drops, and fuck.
His cock springs free, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. The air catches in my throat as I take in every inch like it’s the first time I’ve seen something worth worshiping.
He twitches under my stare, a deep sound rumbling from his chest like I’ve just unhinged something feral inside him.
I take my time removing his sweats the rest of the way, to drag out the anticipation. Once they’re gone, I crawl up the bed on my hands and knees and settle in between his legs.
I hum, licking my lips like I’m starving. “You’ve been dying for this?” I murmur, eyes on his while teasing the head of his cock with my tongue, swirling it, tasting salt and heat. “Well, so have I. So your turn to watch me.”
I take him into my mouth all the way, throat stretching to take him. The weight of him, the heat, the way he fills my mouth—it’s overwhelming in the best fucking way. He’s thick and smooth, and my tongue slides along the underside like I’m memorizing every ridge and vein.
He groans, head thrown back, a string of curses ripped from his lips.
“Fuck, Sawyer—holy shit—”
I suck him down harder, hand wrapping tight around the base, stroking in time with my mouth. I spread my thighs wider, shifting onto all fours—face down, ass up, like a fucking offering.
And I love it. Every filthy second.
I moan around him, letting him feel the vibrations. His hips jerk on their own, trying to fuck deeper, but he lets me lead—lets me tease and ruin him on my own terms.
I hollow my cheeks, bobbing slowly while I grind back against the air—knowing exactly what he sees.
“What’re you doing to me?” he rasps, voice shattered, one hand sliding my hair away from my face so he can watch me.
I let him go with a wet pop, and glance up with a wicked grin. “I’m taking what I want. Didn’t you say you wanted me to beg? Turns out, I want to watch you fall apart first.”
And I go back down, slower, dragging my tongue over the head, sucking him down, moaning to hear the sound drive him insane. He watches, lips parted, eyes wild, breathing like he’s running from the devil.
He groans, shudders, and I barely hear him—voice broken and desperate. “God, baby—just like that. Don’t stop. Fuck—don’t you dare stop.”
I hollow my cheeks, bobbing slowly, letting him see the filthy stretch of my lips around him. When I swirl my tongue and squeeze the base, his hips stutter, breath caught in his throat.
His control snaps.
“Goddamn it, Sawyer—your mouth was made to suck my cock.”
The words hit like a slap and a stroke all at once. My thighs squeeze together, breath hitching around his cock as he twitches on my tongue. The salty taste of him, the way his hips jerk helplessly—fuck, it’s enough to make my core throb with need.
“Look at you,” he groans. “On your knees like a good little slut, lips wrapped around me like you’re starving. Drooling all over my dick like you’ve been dreaming about this.”
I whimper, because fuck—his voice, that tone—it’s dragging something filthy out of me. My saliva slicks his cock, strings of it dripping down to his thighs as I bob lower, hollowing my cheeks, letting the mess build because I want him to see it.
“Bet you do. Bet you’ve touched yourself at the thought of this. Bet you think about my cock in your mouth while you’re in his bed.”
That one makes me moan, loud and guttural. He slips deeper down my throat, and I take it. My throat tightens around him, spit pooling, and he groans, hips twitching—unable to help himself.
“Jesus, Hellcat. Keep doing that and I’m gonna cum all over that wicked little tongue.”
I swirl it around the head to see him twitch again. I want him desperate; I want to watch him unravel for me. He’s close—I can tell by the way his abs are flexing, how tight he’s holding my hair, and how his free hand has gripped the comforter so hard his knuckles are white.
“Say it,” he rasps. “Say it’s mine. Say this mouth belongs to me. Say you belong to me.”
I pull back slowly, teasing him with one long lick. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”
In the next breath, I’m being dragged off his cock and yanked upward—his hand still fisted in my hair as his mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongue, tasting himself on my lips. He devours me, breathing hard against my mouth, voice gone rough.
“Now I’m fucking done waiting.”
He flips me hard, and fast, so I land on my back with a bounce. My thighs are spread open, and his mouth finds my throat, biting, licking, breathing fire into every inch of me.
“You wanna play like that, baby?” he growls into my neck. “Then I’m gonna make sure you choke on the memory of what I’m about to do to you. Tell me you want it,” he growls again, the tip of his cock rubbing against my entrance like the goddamn tease he is. “Tell me what you need, Angel.”
I try to arch, try to grab at him, but he pins my wrists above my head with one hand and slaps the head of his cock against my clit with the other. The jolt of pleasure makes me cry out, back arching, breath ragged.
“Use your words, Sawyer.”
My whole body’s shaking—he’s so close, so heavy against me, but he won’t give. And it’s driving me insane.
“I want your cock,” I gasp, “please, Riot—I need it—”
He stares at me, eyes blazing. “Not good enough.”
His hips roll forward, cock dragging over me again, soaking himself with my wetness. But still, he doesn’t give it to me.
“Beg like you mean it.”
My pride cracks, and I break.
“Please,” I whisper, breath hitching. “Please, Grayson—fuck me. Take me. However you want. Just… please. I’m yours.”
He slams into me in one punishing thrust. The force steals my breath, knocks the air from my lungs. I scream his name—his real name, not the one the world chants on stage—and it shatters something in him.
He groans, deep and guttural, like it’s painful just to be inside me. His fingers dig into my thighs, spreading me wider, holding me still like he’s never letting go.
“You say my name like you mean it,” he growls against my skin, voice ragged, dangerous. “Like you see me. Not Riot. Me.” His lips trail fire up my throat. “Say it again.”
And I do.
“You want me to take you?” he pants, thrusting harder now, punishing. “Then you’re getting all of me. Every filthy, fucked up piece.”
I choke on a moan as my legs lock around his waist. I want every inch, every brutal thrust, every mark he leaves on my skin.
“You wanted my cock?” he growls, dragging his teeth down my neck. “Then fucking take it. Take every inch of me until you can’t think about anything else.”
I take it over and over again, until my body’s trembling, slick and sore, eyes rolling back with every hard, brutal snap of his hips. The sound of our bodies meeting fills the room—wet, desperate, obscene.
“You’re gonna cum for me,” he snarls, “and then I’m gonna fuck you again—just so you remember who made you scream like this.”
Riot doesn’t give me time to breathe once I clench around him.He fucks me through the pleasure, through the ache, through every bit of pride I have left.
One second, I’m trembling around him—and the next, he’s flipped us, fast and seamless, like I weigh nothing.