Chapter 32
R iordan
Under my arm, Cassie preened on our way back to Divide. “First blow job experience in the bag.”
My body warmed. I tipped up her face to mine and stole a kiss, smug as fuck and enjoying how she tasted of me. “Weird having Dixie and her man as part of it.”
She shrugged. “Only if ye let it.”
“What do I say if I see that guy again?”
“Hey, dude, nice dick?”
She cracked up. I scowled and used my pass to open the staff entrance into the nightclub’s dance floor. A wall of music hit us, vibrating under my feet, and ahead, skeleton crew and staff from all parts of the warehouse lurked in dark corners or danced under the swirling lights.
Heads rose at our approach, and a few people catcalled. Cassie grinned and slid her hand down mine to lead me into the middle of the floor. We weaved through the crowd, humid from the crush of hot bodies. The thumping bass deafened me, but I didn’t need to hear. I wanted to dance with her while she wore my cum and everyone else watched.
She moved against me, lithe and beautiful. To the pulse of the music, Cassie twisted in my arms, grazing her ass into my body. Fuck. We’d just had sex, but my dick was in no way done, and my blood headed south all over again. Around us, couples ground together, hands inside clothing, three people entwined in a way that had to be a full sex act, though no one else batted an eye.
I spanned Cassie’s waist with my hands, sliding up her ribs. Her fingers braced mine and interlaced, creeping my touch higher to her tits. Again, she brushed over my dick, perfectly timed with the music, then dropped her head back against my chest to gaze up at me.
“I love ye,” she mouthed.
Her eyes sparkled. My doomed heart squeezed. Ducking down, I kissed her, our mouths fusing and the shared energy of the dance floor driving us on until her tongue slicked over mine and she twisted back to get even closer.
The DJ mixed the track into a party tune, people throwing shapes and the beat picking up. We kept it slow. I speared my fingers into her hair, wrapping her curls around my fist to control her. Cassie’s hands disappeared under my shirt.
The music quietened. I barely noticed, lost in the pleasure of Cassie’s mouth.
“Do we have Riordan Jones back in the room yet? Where is he?” a call went out over the mic.
“Inside his girl,” Lonnie called from somewhere behind.
It was Arran calling for me. I paused. Lifted my head.
Suited and with a skeleton bandanna around his throat, he was at the top of the room on the DJ’s platform.
Arran found me, and he nodded, his gaze amused. “Since a couple of key people missed out on my announcement an hour ago, I saved one point for now. Tonight, we’ve mourned our lost skeleton crew member while celebrating the takedown of her killer. Burn in Hell, Bronson. Alisha dances on your grave.”
Others yelled the same.
He continued, “I ask you now to join me in welcoming the newest full member. Riot, raise your hand.”
I did. People slapped my back and jostled me with grins.
Cassie squeaked in happiness and hugged me hard. “Ye have a gangster name. I love it.”
Arran spoke on, but the words lost out to the meaning. The feeling. I had the girl. The family. A sense of purpose I could understand and live by.
It didn’t feel real. I knew too well how happiness could be stolen away.
Which gave me all the more reason to fight for what I’d found.
Hours later, Cassie and I snuck away, this time for good. We travelled up to her seventh-floor apartment. Showered. Fucked on the living room floor in front of the big arched window that overlooked the city. Wrapped around each other in her borrowed bed.
I lay there until dawn pierced the darkness.
We had no curtains, so the light in the room turned the blackness pale. It fell over the sleeping Cassie in a soft veil that made my heart hurt.
I’d known her barely a month. I’d been glued to her for a week. I’d fallen so carelessly I didn’t notice.
What felt like obsession was something greater. I rode that edge for sure—the craving to own her, the possessive element, the constant need—but it was tinted by a desire for her to be happy.
The like I’d allowed myself to feel was giving way to more. I was falling in love.
I was so, so fucked.
Exhaling, I slowly pulled the blanket off us, revealing her body to me. She’d stolen my skeleton crew t-shirt to sleep in again, and the hem crept up her hip to reveal the line of her underwear.
Reaching out, I guided her carefully to her back.
Her head lolled, sleep keeping her in its grip. Cassie had a killer body. Slender legs, a soft belly, perfect tits.
I needed to see them.
My pulse quickened, and inch by inch, I rucked up the shirt until it was over her collarbones and her tits were mine to stare at. An idea came to me, driven by my eager dick that was awake and gunning to get into the game.
How far could I push this? Cassie slept like she did everything else—with devoted commitment. But would she stay under if I had my mouth on her? My fingers?
If I fucked her?
I knelt on the mattress and lowered my head to press a kiss to her ribs. Another to the underside of the curve of the nearest breast. I reached her nipple. Blew on it. It hardened. Unable to resist, I enclosed the taut bud in my lips and sucked. Her breathing stayed steady, so I moved to the other side, curling my tongue around her then sucking.
I snaked a hand into my boxers, giving myself a squeeze.
Loving on Cassie would drain me dry, and I’d go back for more.
With her nipples both rigid, I sat back. Drew my gaze down. I needed to know if she had become as turned on as me, but there was the small question of her underwear in the way.
Tearing it off her risked waking her, and I was having too much fun, so I climbed from the bed and padded to my jeans, finding the folded blade Arran had gifted me tonight as part of my initiation. At the bedside, I drew Cassie’s legs out to give myself space between her thighs, then settled carefully back on the mattress.
My skeleton crew status meant I needed to get handy with a knife. I flicked out the blade, the vicious edge shining in the low light, then eased it under the line of Cassie’s underwear at her hip. The material split silently. I did the same the other side, my breath catching as I discarded the scrap of material and the weapon and got a view of her cunt.
Just like the knife’s edge gleamed, so did she. I’d made her wet while she wasn’t even conscious to know it.
My quiet, “Fuck,” came out on a breath, and I lowered my face to inhale her scent then touch my tongue to her centre. Her taste spilled through my mouth, fucking incredible.
I moved in and drove my tongue into her, pulling back to check her serene, angelic expression. A small line formed on her forehead, but otherwise, she stayed out of it.
I needed more. I needed a better angle.
Back on my feet, I took my time over shifting her again, this time to bring her to the edge of the mattress. Then I knelt, face on with her pussy, and carefully arranged a leg over my shoulders, the other out on the bed.
I blew on her first, testing if she’d awaken. When she didn’t, I slid my tongue inside her then suckled her clit until her body tensed and her thighs tightened around me. Only then did I force myself to slow. Christ, if she could come while asleep, I needed it to be on my dick.
I still needed to play, though. Stroking my dick, I teased her, sucked and finger-fucked her to the edge then backed away. Each time, listening out for her signs to indicate when to stop.
Awake, she’d be spitting bullets at me by now. But my woman slept on, giving me all the time in the world to enjoy her.
Like with tying her up, I had all the control. It was a rush. A thrill. There was no chance of her leaving me. Of that cute face turning away, or those bright eyes dimming as she focused on me to say it had happened. She’d fallen out of love with me.
I’d rehearsed it in my head. She’d apologise. Hug me. Smile. Then take off on her next adventure. She’d destroy me, and she’d never know because I wouldn’t tell her.
At last, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood and gently shifted her then took my dick to her entrance. I was a patient man, but keeping from fucking straight into her while she frowned in her sleep and turned her head had the power to make me insane. When she stilled, I gripped my cock and glided it up and down, getting it wet. Then I inched inside.
Fucking hell. I breathed through my nose and set my palms to the bed to continue pressing in without gripping onto her tantalising flesh. Under me, her body spread out, relaxed and so damn sexy.
A series of shallow hits jerked her so her tits jogged, and I stooped to take one in my mouth as I worked in deeper. The feel of her on my tongue when I bottomed out to balls-deep inside her broke something in me.
My tolerance for keeping it slow snapped. Withdrawing my hips, I thrust into her hard. Again. She moaned low. Her head moved. Then her eyes flew open.
“What…?” Cassie reached for where I speared her open. “You’re fucking me?”
“Yes, wild girl.”
“Arsehole,” she griped. “I would’ve missed out. Start again.”
Elated, I barked a laugh and picked her up, keeping my dick where it needed to be. Her legs circled my waist, and her lips sought mine. Kissing, we clashed for control, and I carried her to the window and pressed her to the glass, fucking her where the whole city could see, and with broken daylight streaking across the sky.
“You belong to me,” I told her. “Every part of you is mine. Whenever I want. If that’s in the middle of the night, I’m taking you.”
Cassie only moaned and urged me to fuck her faster.
I gripped her backside, over where I’d shot the tracker into her, and took off, so gone for her and so in need from edging us both. When she dug her nails into my shoulders and cursed me, I slowed to feel her orgasm then finally let myself come inside her so hard I saw stars. Finally allowing myself to fall.
The landing would be brutal. She told me she wouldn’t be mine forever.
I had to make her realise the opposite was true.
In bed, Cassie shoved me then curled in a ball against my body and returned to sleep. Though exhausted, satisfied, I still couldn’t rest.
From the bedside table where I’d left it this morning and hadn’t checked it since, I took up my phone. My first action was to click on the link Shade had sent, before he’d abducted me, and checked Cassie’s tracker was working. It displayed her location in bed just fine.
Then I checked through my other messages.
I had several from my sister. Genevieve swore that I ignored her texts and phone calls, and that was to some degree true. She brought questions I couldn’t answer. Demands to know how I was, wanting to talk. In the past, when I’d been barely getting by, I’d never wanted to share my struggles.
Perhaps now, I’d actually message her back.
The most recent one pulled me up short.
Genevieve: Thought you’d want to see this. The mayor recorded a video outside the warehouse tonight. Most of it you can ignore. He claims his excellent police force brought down Deadwater’s serial killer, and that for prosecution purposes, he can’t discuss further. Pretending that they have him yada, yada. But then he says that later this week, he’s going to make an announcement about his strategy for the city’s gangs when he’s re-elected. Right outside of our home. Fuck that guy.
I sat up against the pillows and pressed the link, setting the volume to the lowest. It was enough to hear my pompous father, smiling for the cameras, and making the announcement Gen had described. At his comment about gangs, he gestured to the warehouse. The people around him who’d gathered to listen threw worried glances.
My anger for him had simmered this evening, but now it was back.
It was on me to handle him. Like with every other aspect of my new world, I needed to work out how to get what I wanted. I’d be damned if I’d lose any part of what I’d found.