Chapter 9 #2
Carefully, I extracted my limbs from Riot’s and slid out of the bed, grabbing my workout gear so I could get ready in the bathroom. His ability to sleep through my alarm going off and the sunlight filtering through the window blew my mind, but I guessed daimons tended to be more active at night.
I took care of my business and dressed in matching lavender leggings and a fitted singlet, pulling on a thin gray hooded sweatshirt but leaving it unzipped, then securing my hair in a tight ponytail. By the time I emerged, I could hear Riot moving around the kitchen, making coffee.
“Hi,” I said shyly, leaning against the door jamb. Sugar, it was so much easier to be confident under the cover of darkness.
“Hey,” he replied drowsily. He glanced at me, sleep rumpled hair falling into his eyes, before doing a double take and turning to face me more fully, coffee cup in hand. “You going for a run?”
Riot’s eyes traveled up from my socks over my legging-clad legs, pausing at my tight top, before continuing up to my burning face.
It wasn’t the most modest of outfits given how fitted it was, but really the only time we were allowed to be even a little immodest was when we were working out or swimming. Even then, we were pretty covered up by most human standards.
I’d almost bought a crop top once, just out of sheer curiosity, but I knew I’d never have the courage to wear it. I still felt like if I ever wore something that exposed my midriff, my mother would sprout bat wings and fly here all the way from Auburn to punish me.
“Yes,” I squeaked, before clearing my throat. “Yes, I’m going for a run.”
Riot pursed his lips, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully.
“Do...Do you want me to change?” I asked, plucking at the lavender singlet. I’d never had a boyfriend before, and while I didn’t want to say that word out loud and freak us both out, I should probably consider his opinion on things like this, right? Wasn’t that how relationships worked?
The corner of Riot’s mouth tipped up in an amused smirk as he shook his head, his black hair flopping with the movement. “Fuck no, Gracie. Wear whatever you want. You look incredible.”
“Oh. I was worried it might be too form-fitting, and you might be uncomfortable with it, and I know daimons can be possessive...” Sugar, stop talking, Grace.
I slammed my mouth shut, barely resisting the urge to hide behind my hands. I appreciated that Riot never outright laughed at my awkward moments. His lip just twitched a little while he looked at me like I was endearing and not socially stunted.
Riot set the cup down on the counter with an ominous thud before closing the short distance between us. He stood close enough that I could feel his breath fan over my face as he gently grabbed the two sides of my hoodie, lightly tugging me towards him.
I went willingly, closing the tiny gap until my breasts brushed against his hard chest. Heat exploded across my skin at the barest hint of touch, even though it was only yesterday that I’d had that life changing moment grinding all over his lap.
Would I need that every day now I’d had it once?
I was inclined to think the answer was yes.
“I am very possessive,” Riot murmured in a low voice, dripping with sin.
“That doesn’t mean I want to tell you how to dress.
It means I want you to wear my clothes just because you want to.
It means I want my name tattooed on your skin.
It means I want to run next you and tell anyone who looks at you to fuck off.
Unfortunately, those aren’t options for us,” he added irritably, though it sort of sounded like he said for now under his breath.
“I wish they were,” I whispered as my hands found their way to his abs, surprising myself with the words. How nice would it be to call Riot my boyfriend? To go for a run with him in the morning, or grab some lunch together during the day?
To not worry that if we were seen together, my community would lock me in the temple and attack him. I didn’t even know how the daimons would react.
Riot’s eyes flashed with hunger and I felt my breath catch in my throat as I saw the desire on his face a second before I felt it curling around my skin. That was it, I was done for.
How did he do that? It was so subtle—a flash in his eyes, the way his chin dipped slightly, the subtle movement of his tongue running along the inside of his lower lip. That was all it took and my body responded like it was hardwired to his.
That fluttery clenching feeling below my belly button was back with a vengeance.
“Better start running now,” Riot said, his grip tightening around my hoodie, pulling me close enough to feel his hardness against my stomach. “You stand there looking like that much longer and you won’t make it out the door.”
I opened my mouth to argue because surely there were more fun ways to burn calories than jogging, but Riot’s lips brushed over mine before I could speak.
“Go,” he insisted, mouth still moving against mine. “My self control is weak this morning.”
I appreciated the sentiment—I didn’t even know what I wanted or how far I wanted to go, and I’d really relied on him setting the boundaries yesterday. But I didn’t think I could walk out of this room without at least a kiss.
I pushed Riot gently, encouraging him backwards, and he relented with just a cautionary look. I guided him until his back hit the fridge and pressed both his wrists back next to him. The darkness inside me seemed to swell in victory, a rush of adrenaline running through my veins, making me brave.
“Grace…” he warned as the red in his eyes darkened with desire.
“Let me have the self control for both of us this time,” I said in a throaty voice I barely recognized as my own, going up on my tiptoes to reach his mouth.
Riot groaned even as he parted his lips willingly, hands plastered back against the fridge, flexing slightly in my grip but never trying to break it.
For all my bravado in taking control of the situation, I was a little lost now that I had Riot at my mercy. I could count the number of kisses I’d had on one hand, and they’d all happened with him.
Letting instinct guide me, I brushed my lips, once, twice, against his, testing how it felt, how he responded.
Good , I decided. I went in again, using slightly more pressure, nibbling lightly on his lower lip experimentally before running my tongue over it.
My thumbs pressed into the pulse points at his wrists and I couldn’t tell whose heartbeat was pounding out of control, or if it was both of ours.
The desire definitely belonged to both of us. Mine was coiled low in my belly like a spring, ready to explode. Riot’s wrapped around my skin like tendrils of the softest silk.
Plus, his erection was digging incessantly into my belly, which seemed like a giveaway. I may not have a lot of experience with that particular organ, but I’d seen enough movies and heard enough innuendo to get the gist.
“Gracie,” Riot rasped, tipping his head back against the fridge with a thud, his expression pinched. “You’re playing with fire.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, forcing myself back on the flats of my feet to put a couple of much needed inches between us. “I’ve never experienced this before. Lust, ” I clarified, face heating again.
Riot’s eyes darkened dangerously. “I know, and I hate that. While I selfishly enjoy having your firsts, I would never want them at the expense of your freedom to choose things for yourself.”
“That’s kind of a mood killer,” I teased lightly as I took a step back, never sure how to respond when Riot made very valid points about the agathos way of life and the gifts bestowed on us.
“Maybe for you,” he countered with an amused smirk, blatantly adjusting himself through his jeans. Sugar. “But now you really should go.”
“Okay,” I agreed, backing away slowly, very aware that I was prey locked in the sights of a predator in that moment, and not feeling remotely frightened about that.
As tempting as it was to stay and explore the promise in Riot’s words, we both knew I’d pushed the limits enough already this morning. Both his and mine.
I wanted him, but my stomach churned with guilt every time I thought of all the things we’d done already.
I shoved my feet into my white running shoes quickly, tucking my key into the pocket of my leggings before letting myself out the door and jogging down the stairs, grateful for the cool fall air on my overheated cheeks, though an ice cold shower would have been more effective.
Had I really pinned him to my fridge like some sort of seductress? Who did I think I was? I was going to overthink every minute of that and dissect it for the rest of my life.
What would happen if I did accept that Riot was what he appeared to me?
My soul bond, all mine, mine to give myself to?
Theoretically, I could be with him freely, without guilt, yet I already knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
I’d been conditioned my whole life to believe intimacy was something that would just occur between myself and my agathos bonded.
Would I ever be able to have a physical relationship with Riot without feeling like I was doing something illicit?
My fingers itched with the urge to rip off my opal ring and throw it in the nearest bush. I’d made a vow when I put this on that I’d keep myself and my thoughts pure for my soul bonds, and I couldn’t even tell if I was breaking that vow or not, which made the guilt all the more suffocating.
I should at least know if I was committing the crime.
I wished I had someone to talk to about this, or that it was talked about at all.
Did Verity Mae ever feel guilty about being with her partners?
We’d both been raised on the same diet of chasteness and purity, but she’d met her first bonded before we even finished high school, so I guessed she wasn’t as conditioned as I was.
I did some quick warm up stretches next to the building, hoping I was far enough away from Riot that he wouldn’t feel my guilt from inside the apartment, but also not really understanding how far this connection between us actually stretched.
I hadn’t ever felt his emotions while I was at work, so I assumed it was distance related, and I tried to focus on happy things until I was further away from the apartment just in case.
It wasn’t his fault that I was struggling with this, and I didn’t ever want him to feel like he’d done something wrong.
Sugar, what would my parents say if they found out about Riot?
If they knew what I’d been doing? Rae had left Hope House again, and I doubted she was close enough with anyone else there to talk about me anyway, but still.
She knew , which always meant someone else could find out.
Knowing my track record, I was one bad luck away from my mother barging into my apartment when Riot and I were mid-makeout.
That was exactly the kind of thing that would happen to me.
She’d be so humiliated. Everything she’d done to prove herself within the upper crust agathos community would be for nothing. At least two of my fathers would be furious.
I ran faster and pushed myself harder than I ever had, determined to fight off the surge of unwelcome what-ifs.
Those thoughts belonged to a different Grace from a different time.
Last week, but still. Whatever this thing between Riot and I was, it was clear that I couldn’t afford to think like the lonely agathos girl with the forbidden angry tendencies I’d been my whole life. She was gone.
This Grace had mysteries to unravel and secrets to keep. If every agathos gift came at a price, the gift of Riot came at the cost of my innocence about the world I’d grown up in. Or perhaps my ignorance .
It was a price I was more than willing to pay.