Chapter 14
Riley
My hands grip Jacob’s shoulders as I press him against the door, the solid weight of his body beneath my palms igniting something primal inside me.
The rush of power is intoxicating. Me, controlling the man who could break free with minimal effort but chooses not to.
His back muscles tense beneath my fingers, but he doesn’t fight me.
Instead, he goes still, waiting. This close, I can smell the faint tang of sweat mixed with his cologne, the scent sending blood rushing south.
“You’ve been playing games all night,” I say, my voice low and tight against his ear. “Letting those women touch you. Making sure I was watching.”
Jacob doesn’t deny it. His body shifts, pressing back against mine. “Worked, didn’t it?”
My fingers dig harder into his shoulders. I press closer, my chest flush against his back.
“Talk,” I command. “You wanted to know why I ran. First, tell me what this is to you.”
Jacob turns his head, trying to look at me over his shoulder. His profile is sharp in the dim light—strong jaw, the healing cut above his eye, lips parted. “I don’t know what it is,” he admits. “I just know I want it.”
“Want what, exactly?”
“Your hands on me. I don’t know why it feels so good when you touch me. It just does.”
My grip loosens, but I don’t pull away. “Jacob—”
“No one’s ever made me feel like that before.” He shifts, and I allow him enough space to turn and face me. Now we’re chest to chest, his back against the door, my hands on either side of his head. “I want you to do it again.”
His admission sends heat surging through me. I search his face for any sign of uncertainty, any indication that he’s less than sure. All I find is raw hunger in his eyes.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jacob’s hand comes up, fingers wrapping around my wrist, pulling my palm to rest against his chest. “I’ve been thinking about your fingers inside me for days. How it felt when you—”
“Fuck,” I interrupt, my resolve cracking. My cock hardens fast at his words, and I can’t help pressing forward, letting him feel my arousal against his hip. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
I drop my forehead against his shoulder, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Because it makes me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
“Like what?” Jacob’s voice drops lower, a rumble that vibrates through his chest into my hand. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Riley.”
His use of my first name breaks something loose inside me. I lift my head to meet his gaze. “I want to bend you over that bed and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
Jacob’s pupils dilate, his breath catching. “I want you to,” he says, no hesitation.
I press my erection harder against him. “Now? With all those people downstairs?”
“I don’t care.” His hands move to my hips, pulling me tighter against him. “I’ve been thinking about this since that night in my apartment. About what it would feel like to have you inside me.”
“Christ, Jacob.” I close my eyes briefly, trying to hold onto my last shred of rationality. “This is Renata’s guest room. The party’s still going on. Anyone could—”
“Anyone could walk in and see you fucking me?” He finishes the thought, and the rough edge to his voice tells me the idea doesn’t repulse him. “Maybe that’s part of what makes it hot.”
I groan, my cock throbbing at his words. “We don’t even have—”
Before I can finish, Jacob reaches into his pocket and pulls out several foil packets. Condoms. And small packets of lube.
I stare at them, then back at him, a laugh of disbelief escaping me. “You came prepared.”
“I came hopeful,” he corrects, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And maybe a little desperate.”
Something possessive unfurls in my chest. Jacob Mancini, the undefeated champion, the man everyone fears, desperate for me. For my hands, my cock, my control.
“Turn around.”
Jacob complies immediately, turning to face the door again.
I press against his back, my hands sliding down his sides to his waist, then around to the front of his jeans.
I work open the button, drag down the zipper.
His breathing grows heavier as I push his jeans and underwear down to mid-thigh, exposing his ass.
“Spread your legs,” I instruct, as far as the jeans will allow. He obeys, bracing his hands against the door.
I tear open a lube packet with my teeth, coating my fingers. My free hand grips his hip as I bring my lubed finger to his entrance, circling slowly.
Jacob groans, pressing back against me. “Don’t tease.”
“Patience,” I murmur, continuing to circle without pushing in yet. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I can take it,” he insists.
“I know you can.” I press my lips to his neck, just below his ear. “But that doesn’t mean you have to. Let me take care of you.”
He stiffens at the words, then relaxes with a shudder as my finger finally breaches him. I work it in slowly, feeling the tight ring of muscle gradually yield. Jacob drops his head forward, a low moan escaping him as I push deeper.
“Good?” I ask, already knowing the answer from the way his body responds to me.
“Yes,” he hisses, pushing back for more. “Another. Please.”
The plea surprises me, coming from this man who seems incapable of vulnerability with anyone else. I add more lube, then press a second finger alongside the first, stretching him carefully. Jacob’s breathing grows ragged as I work him open, scissoring my fingers, preparing him for what’s to come.
“You’re so tight,” I murmur against his shoulder.
Jacob makes a sound I’ve never heard from him before—half whimper, half moan—when my fingers brush his prostate. “Fuck. Right there.”
I press against the spot again, feeling him clench around my fingers. “Like that?”
“Yes,” he gasps. “Don’t stop.”
My own cock strains against my jeans, untouched and leaking. I rut against his thigh, seeking some relief as I work a third finger into him. Jacob takes it eagerly, his body opening for me, hungry for more.
“You’re so greedy,” I say, amazed at how quickly he’s adapted. “Your body just sucks my fingers in.”
“Because I want you,” Jacob replies. “All of you. Please, Riley. I’m ready.”
The desperation in his voice nearly undoes me. “Get on the bed,” I say, withdrawing my fingers. “Take off your clothes.”
Jacob doesn’t hesitate. He kicks off his jeans and underwear, pulls his shirt over his head, and moves to the bed in what seems like one fluid motion.
His body is magnificent—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, powerful thighs, his cock hard and jutting proudly from a nest of dark hair.
He gets on all fours in the middle of the mattress, looking back at me over his shoulder.
“Like this?” he asks, and the vulnerability in the question makes my chest ache.
“Perfect,” I say, already stripping off my own clothes. My cock springs free as I push down my underwear, the tip glistening with precum.
Jacob watches me, his eyes dark with want. “Hurry up,” he urges. “I need you inside me.”
I grab a condom, tearing it open and rolling it onto my aching length. More lube follows, coating my cock liberally. I knee-walk onto the bed, positioning myself behind him. I run a hand down his spine, feeling the muscles shift beneath my palm.
“You’re sure?” I ask, one last check.
“Yes,” Jacob says without hesitation. “Please, Riley.”
I line up with his entrance, pressing the head of my cock against him. The pressure increases as I push forward, the tight ring of muscle resisting briefly before giving way. We both groan as the head breaches him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” I gasp, forcing myself to pause, to give him time to adjust.
Jacob presses back, taking me deeper. “More,” he demands. “Give me all of it.”
I grip his hips, holding him steady as I push in slowly, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated inside him. The heat and pressure around my cock is delicious. I freeze, breathing hard, teetering on the edge of control.
“Move,” Jacob urges, trying to thrust back against me. “Fuck me, Riley. Please.”
I start with shallow thrusts, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. But Jacob’s impatience is palpable—he pushes back hard, taking me deeper than I intended, a harsh cry escaping him.
“Careful,” I warn, gripping his hips tighter. “Let me set the pace.”
“Then fucking move,” he growls. “I won’t break.”
Something snaps in me at his defiance. I pull back almost completely, then slam forward with one hard thrust. Jacob cries out, his arms nearly buckling.
“That what you want?” I ask, repeating the motion. “You want it hard?”
“Yes,” he gasps. “Just like that.”
I establish a rhythm, deep and steady, each thrust pulling sounds from Jacob I never imagined hearing. The power I feel is intoxicating—this massive, feared fighter coming undone beneath me, taking my cock like he was made for it.
“What would they think?” I ask, leaning over his back to speak directly into his ear, never stopping my rhythm. “All those people downstairs. If they heard you begging me to fuck you. If they saw you like this, taking my cock so eagerly.”
“Don’t care,” Jacob pants. “Let them hear. Let them know how good you make me feel.”
His words push me dangerously close to the edge. “You have no idea what you do to me,” I confess, my control slipping. “I’ve never—fuck—I’ve never lost control like this. With anyone.”
“Good. I want you to lose control with me. Only me.”
I curse under my breath, my hips snapping forward harder, giving him exactly what he’s asking for. His moans grow louder with each thrust, his body tensing as he reaches between his legs to stroke himself.
“No,” I growl, batting his hand away. I pull out completely, ignoring his sound of protest. “Turn over. I want to see your face when you come.”
Jacob complies immediately, rolling onto his back, legs spread wide. He grabs behind his knees, pulling them toward his chest, exposing himself completely. The sight knocks the breath from my lungs—Jacob Mancini offering himself to me with such trust and vulnerability.
I position myself at his entrance again, pushing inside more easily this time.
The angle is different, deeper, and I establish a gentler rhythm, wanting to draw this out.
But Jacob is impatient, his hips rising to meet each thrust, urging me faster, harder.
His cock lies untouched against his stomach, leaking, the head flushed dark with need.
“You’re close,” I observe, feeling his body tighten around me. “Going to come just from my cock?”
“Yes,” he moans. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I increase my pace, angling my hips to hit his prostate with each thrust. Jacob’s eyes go wide, his mouth falling open on a silent cry.
Then his cock pulses, shooting white streaks across his chest, some landing as high as his face.
His ass clenches around me in powerful waves as he comes and comes.
The sight of him, combined with the incredible pressure around my cock, pushes me over the edge.
My orgasm crashes through me with an intensity I’ve never experienced before, my vision blurring at the edges as I pump into him, filling the condom.
I cry out his name, my body jerking with aftershocks as the pleasure crests and recedes.
Finally, I collapse onto him, my face buried in his neck, both of us breathing hard. My lips find his skin, pressing kisses along his collarbone, his throat, murmuring words I barely register.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
Amazing.
When I finally lift my head to look at him, I’m struck by the unguarded expression on his face. His eyes are soft and vulnerable. Without thinking, I lean down and capture his lips with mine. Our first kiss, more intimate than everything we’ve just done.
Jacob responds immediately, his arms wrapping around me, one hand tangling in my hair as he kisses me back. The kiss is tender, a stark contrast to the frantic energy of our coupling. We stay like that for long minutes, just tasting each other, learning each other’s mouths.
When we finally break apart, Jacob looks up at me with something like wonder in his eyes. His hand moves to my chest.
“Your heart’s racing,” he says softly.
I feel his own heartbeat beneath my palm, matching mine beat for beat. “So is yours.”
His smile is slow and genuine, transforming his face into something almost boyish. “You know I’m not letting you go now,” he says. “Not after this. Not after you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
The declaration should frighten me. It should remind me of all the lines I’ve crossed. Instead, it fills me with a strange, fierce joy.
“Good,” I tell him, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”