Chapter 32 #2
Sawyer meets my eyes—steady, unflinching, hungry for justice in the filthiest sense. I see her jaw tighten. See the way she squares her shoulders and lets that mask slip, just for us. She’s not afraid. She’s furious. And she’s about to destroy him.
I haul her into my arms, kissing her hard, staking my claim right in front of Blake. My bloody fingers dig into her hips, pulling her close. She melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and moaning into my mouth. Letting him know exactly who she belongs to.
Jasper’s right behind her, hands gripping her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. His dark eyes never leave Blake. “You better watch. Don’t fucking blink.”
I drop to my knees, kissing a trail from her navel to her thighs, never breaking eye contact with Blake as I hook my thumbs in her shorts, dragging them down along with her underwear.
She’s shaking, but it’s not fear. It’s the power, the adrenaline, the control. Jasper’s grip tightens on her hips, steadying the tremor. I glance up and she gives a little nod, eyes wild and shining with something that’s not shame, but vengeance.
I press my mouth to her, licking and sucking, letting my tongue work her open right there in front of him.
Sawyer moans—loud, wrecked, real—her hands tangling in my hair, her back arching.
Jasper cages her with his body, palm splayed on her lower belly, keeping her from climbing away from the edge too soon.
I make it messy, make it audible. Every sound, every gasp, every slick slide of my tongue is for him to hear, to remember, to haunt his nightmares.
Jasper’s mouth finds her ear, “Let him see what it looks like when you’re worshipped. Let him know he never broke you.” His other hand traces down, spreading her thighs wider for me.
Sawyer’s legs are shaking. She’s panting, moaning, lost in it—but she never takes her eyes off Blake. Not once. She lets him see her undone. Not for him, never for him, but because he needs to know he never mattered.
I slip two fingers inside her, curling just right, and she cries out my name. Jasper’s arm locks hard around her ribs to hold her through the shudder, his thumb stroking slow circles under her breast to anchor her while I work her down.
My eyes move over to Blake. His face is twisted with rage, shame, agony, and humiliation. Perfect.
Sawyer shudders, hips grinding into my face, voice breaking as she cums for me—screaming, shaking, eyes locked on Blake while Jasper holds her upright. “That’s it, baby. You’re safe. You’re ours.”
I drag my mouth off her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Then I stand, letting Blake see how hard I am, how desperate we both are for her. But it’s Sawyer who finishes him.
She steps forward, tears streaking her face, but her chin high as she spits on the floor at his feet.
“That’s what it looks like, Blake. Genuine pleasure. Something you never got from me or deserved.”
Jasper grabs him by the hair, forcing him to look up. “You done yet? Or do you need us to fuck her too, while you watch?”
Sawyer smirks, her body still trembling. “We’ll save that for when we come back later if you haven’t decided to talk like a good boy.” She says as she pats his cheek and Blake looks like he’s trying hard not to sob.
Jasper releases him with a shove, and I pull Sawyer back into my arms, holding her steady, grounding her in the aftermath.
“Let’s go, baby,” I whisper, kissing her hair. “Let’s let him sit with that for awhile.”
SAWYER
Riot’s hand barely closes around my wrist before he’s yanking me up the stairs, urgency and hunger radiating off him in waves. He drags me into the nearest empty room, slams the door shut, and pins me to the wall so fast my breath leaves my lungs in a huff sound.
His eyes are wild. Wild from everything that just happened below.
“I’m sorry if that was too much or if you weren’t ready,” he says.
“I just—fuck, Hellcat. The idea of that asshole thinking he actually got you off—thinking he took something from you—made me want to rip him apart. I needed him to see the truth. He needed to know that you had never belonged to him. He could never own you. He could never have what we have.”
My pulse thrums, I reach for him tangling my fingers in his shirt and pull his mouth to mine. Bruising, desperate. All teeth and tongue and fury and gratitude.
“It’s okay,” I whisper against his lips, breathless. “I loved it. It was so fucking hot, Riot. You, Jasper, everything. I wanted him to see. I wanted him to know he could never touch me like that. I feel like I took a piece of me back.”
He lifts me off the ground and my legs wrap around him on instinct. He grinds me into the wall, his cock is already hard pressed between us, but I shake my head. A little laugh escapes as he kisses a line down my jaw.
“No,” I murmur, catching his face in my hands. “Not yet. Save it for later.”
He growls, nipping at my throat, hands rough and trembling. “You trying to kill me, Hellcat?”
I grin, thumbing his bottom lip. “No, Riot. I want him to see me fall apart for you. For both of you. I want him to know there’s nothing he could ever do that would make me his—not even for a second. I want him haunted. I want him to feel realize he’s nothing to me.”
Riot’s eyes flash with wicked, grateful pride. He’s breathing hard as lets me down, pressing his forehead to mine. “Fuck. You’re perfect. And you’re so much filthier than you pretend to be, aren’t you?”
I bite his lip, just enough to make him hiss and smirk. “Maybe. But only for you.”
He kisses me again, softer this time, all promise and possession. “Then let’s make him wish he’d never met you.”
JASPER
I take the stairs two at a time, letting the door slam shut behind me. My hands are still shaking with the need to break something, but instead, I follow the sounds of Riot pacing, energy bleeding off him in waves.
He’s in the hallway, raking a hand through his hair, chest still heaving. The adrenaline in my veins hasn’t settled either—not after what happened in the basement, not after watching Sawyer walk away from him like a queen leaving a chained dog in the dirt.
“Good move,” I say, voice rough as I shoulder up beside him. “You wiped that smug look right off his fucking face.”
Riot barks out a laugh.“Yeah, well, let him try to pretend after that. That fucker deserves to live with it the rest of his life. Knowing he will never have that. Not with her, not with anyone. Hell, if she even lets him live.”
Every inch of me is still buzzing from watching Sawyer unravel for us, right where Blake could see. “He knows. You could see it all over his face.”
Riot’s grin fades into something darker, almost reverent. “She wanted him to see. Wanted him to know he could never have her like we do.” He brings his hands up to run them through his hair. “I hope he wishes he’d never touched her.”
We go quiet for a second, both of us probably replaying the humiliation on Blake’s face. But then Riot gets a wild, proud spark in his eye.
“She stopped me,” Riot says suddenly, like it’s still echoing in his head.
“I was ready to fuck her against the wall up here, but she told me she wanted to wait.” He looks at me with wide eyes.
“I think she really is going to let us fuck her in front of him. You ever heard anything hotter in your life?”
I let out a real laugh. “No. I haven’t. After what happened I think it’s a great way for her to take back her to take back everything he took from her.”
He’s quiet for a beat before he grins again. “Agreed. She’s the one running the show. She wants Blake to see what he can’t have. She wants him to see her completely fucking claimed.”
I nod, the sense of awe cutting through the anger. “Then let’s make sure she gets exactly what she wants.”
And for the first time since we dragged Blake down those stairs, I feel a dark, perfect peace settling in my chest. Our girl is about to take back everything he took from her.
Riot’s still grinning, that wild, hungry spark lighting up his eyes. He glances toward the stairs, then back at me. “You know what we need down there?”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“A desk or something solid. So we can fuck her on top of it; make sure Blake gets a front-row seat to everything we do to her.”
I let out a dark laugh, tension bleeding into anticipation. “Bet he’d love that. Too bad for him, that’ll be the closest he ever gets to her again.”
Riot shrugs, mouth curving into a filthy smirk. “If he looks away or tries not to watch her, I swear to God, I’ll cut out his fucking eyes.”
My grin matches his, sharp and mean. “Murderous, are we?” I pause, thinking about how I’d love nothing more than to slit his fucking wrists and watch him bleed out. “We’ll get a desk.”
He looks almost giddy. “Yes! I want her bent over it. Screaming in his face for us.”
The vision alone is enough to make my dick hard.
“We’ll make sure he knows exactly what he missed out on.”
***
We find Ash and Jace out in the garage, Ash is half-under the hood of Silas’s car and Jace pretending to be busy with a toolbox. Riot doesn’t even bother with small talk.
“Yo, we need a desk for the basement,” he says, eyes already scanning the cluttered space.
Ash slides out, grease on his hands. “A desk? What for?” His smirk says he already knows.
Jace whistles low. “Not the one with the broken leg, right? You want something sturdy.”
Riot grins. “Yeah, sturdy’s good. It’s gotta hold Sawyer and possibly both of us. Preferably at the same time.”
“Damn,” Ash snorts, “not even subtle about it. Should I clear space for an audience while I’m at it?”
I shoot them a look, but I’m grinning. “Just help us get it down to the basement. Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
“Hey, I’m just here for the entertainment.” Ash says as he wiggles his eyebrows.
***
Jace shoulders the desk, following Riot as we haul it toward the stairs. “Tell Sawyer she owes me a beer after this bullshit.”
Riot laughs. “You’ll hear her before you see her, trust me.”
By the time we wrestle the desk down the basement steps, Ash and Jace are still cracking jokes—but they both look a little envious.
And me? I’m already picturing Sawyer bent over that desk, screaming our names while Blake watches—realizing he could never be what she needs.
Blake doesn’t say anything to us the entire time were moving the desk into the basement. It’s for the best honestly, especially since I need him to be able to focus later. If I hit him now it’ll make that more difficult and I don’t want him to miss a single thing.
We’re coming back up the basement stairs, Ash and Jace still behind us making snarky comments. We barely make it into the hallway before Silas rounds the corner, coffee mug in hand and suspicion written all over his face.
He looks at the four of us, then at the now-dusty streaks on our clothes. “What in the actual hell are you idiots up to now?” Silas drawls, like he already knows he’s not gonna like the answer.
Ash grins, all innocent. “Just a little home improvement, Si. The basement was feeling empty.”
Jace chimes in, not missing a beat. “Yeah, figured we’d give our guest the five-star treatment.”
Silas narrows his eyes, gaze flicking from one face to another, landing on me last. “You got that look, Jas. The one you get before things get broken or you end up calling me from jail.”
I clap Silas on the shoulder as we walk past. “Don’t worry, Si. Just redecorating. Pretty soon, the basement’s gonna be the hottest club in town.”
Silas groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you two drag me into some fifty shades of felony shit, I swear to God—”
Riot laughs. “Relax, man. We’ll put the desk back when we’re done with it… probably.”
Ash and Jace are already heading to the kitchen, still cackling. Silas watches us go, muttering something about how he’s too old for this shit.
Me and Riot? We’re already plotting.
If Silas only knew.