Chapter 8
The ride back was silent, but not calm. It vibrated with tension—taut and aching, buzzing in Riven’s teeth and curling low in his belly.
Thane didn’t speak over comms, didn’t need to.
Riven felt everything in the space between them: the raw heat of the engine, the rhythmic thrum beneath him, and Thane’s body so close it was almost unbearable.
He sat behind Thane, arms wrapped around his waist, fingers pressed into the hard lines of muscle beneath his jacket.
Every time they leaned into a turn, Riven was forced tighter against him—his thighs gripping the bike, his chest flush to Thane’s back, breath catching each time the movement dragged his face closer to the nape of Thane’s neck.
The wind screamed past, but all Riven could feel was heat. The pulse of it between his legs, the maddening awareness of the man he was wrapped around, and the fact that Thane hadn’t said a damn word—just rode like the road would burn behind them if he slowed down.
He was hard the entire ride. Half from adrenaline, half from the impossible heat of Thane’s body against his own, heavy and possessive.
His cock strained inside his pants, trapped and twitching with every jolt of the road.
He couldn’t stop himself subtly shifting for friction, grinding down against the bike seat like a fucking teenager.
By the time they rolled into the private underground garage of the Virellien compound, Riven’s pulse was a hammer in his throat. The tires hissed to a stop against smooth stone. Riven swung off the bike, fists clenched, trying to shake the restless heat out of his limbs. It didn’t help.
Behind him, Thane dismounted like a fucking god, all controlled power. He peeled off his helmet, raking a hand through sweat-damp hair, and when those strands clung to his forehead, Riven’s cock throbbed.
“You overstepped,” Thane said, voice low and flat, but simmering with restrained fury.
Riven turned on him sharply. “I didn’t give them anything they didn’t already suspect.”
Thane took a step forward, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to decide whether to tear him apart. “You told them about the fence. About how you got it. You think that was subtle?”
Riven’s jaw clenched. “It got me in the room, didn’t it?”
“This isn’t a game.” Thane’s gaze dragged down his body like a physical touch, lingering and furious. “You think flirting with exposure is clever? They could trace that back to the House.”
“You weren’t there,” Riven snapped. “I had to give them something.”
Thane stepped in close, his presence overwhelming, voice dropping low and vicious. “You gave them a breadcrumb trail straight to our door. If Lareth decides to follow it, I’ll make sure the first thing he finds is your corpse.”
Riven’s breath hitched, but he didn’t back down. “It worked.”
“Barely.” Thane’s tone was scathing, even as his breath brushed hot against Riven’s cheek. “You think you’re sharp, but you’re reckless. You trade secrets like you’re bartering in a street stall. What else would you have offered if they’d asked?”
Riven’s pulse stuttered. He could feel the heat rolling off Thane, could feel the thread between fury and something rougher, hungrier.
“And what if I had?” he asked, too quiet, too daring.
Thane’s mouth twitched—not a smile. “Then I’d call that kind of risk a liability. One I’d have to keep a very close eye on.”
Riven swallowed hard. The warning was clear. So was the interest.
Riven could feel it in the air, thick as smoke. Every nerve ending was lit up, alive. His cock ached, so hard it hurt, throbbing behind his zipper.
“You keep talking about danger like you’re not the biggest threat in the room,” Riven said, rough and ragged.
“I am the biggest threat in the room.”
And gods help him, Riven believed it. That deep, dry voice made his spine shiver. Made his cock twitch again, leaking into his briefs. It wasn’t fair. Thane hadn’t even touched him.
Riven held his ground as Thane stepped even closer, forcing him to tilt his head to meet his eyes. Their bodies brushed—barely—but the friction of it sent heat spiking through him.
“You did well,” Thane said. “You didn’t flinch. You played your role.”
Riven didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with Thane’s breath brushing his lips, not with his own cock straining so hard it throbbed in time with his pulse.
“But don’t mistake praise for trust,” Thane murmured. “You’re still a weapon. One I haven’t decided to sheath.”
Riven swallowed thickly. “Funny. I was thinking the same about you.”
Thane’s hand came up—close, so close. Hovering beside Riven’s cheek, like he might trace his jaw, or grip it and tilt his mouth up. Riven didn’t move. Every part of him wanted to lean in. To feel that rough palm on his skin. To know what Thane’s hand would feel like wrapped around his throat.
“You should get cleaned up,” Thane said. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”
The mental image slammed into Riven like a freight train—Thane shoving him into the locker room showers, stripping him bare, pinning him against the tile, licking sweat from his chest, his throat, his cock.
Riven’s dick twitched hard, so hard it rubbed painfully against his zipper. He clenched his fists to keep from reaching down and adjusting himself.
“You planning to wash my face,” he rasped, “or get me wet some other way?”
Thane smirked, sharp and slow. “You don’t beg. I respect that.”
Gods, he was going to lose it. His skin was on fire, cock throbbing with every word out of that smug bastard’s mouth.
And neither of them moved.
The silence between them felt like a match waiting to be struck.
Then Thane stepped back, and the loss of heat made Riven’s body scream. His cock was still hard—painfully hard—still leaking, still twitching for more.
“Your debrief is in twenty minutes,” Thane said, suddenly cold, all business again. “Get yourself together.”
Riven gave a sharp salute, mocking. “Sir.”
Thane turned for the elevator—but he paused. Looked back. Eyes gleaming like a challenge.
“Oh, and Riven?”
Riven didn’t trust himself to speak.
“I wasn’t guessing. I know you grew up near the Seam.”
It hit him like a gut punch.
“You—what?”
“You think I take anyone into the field without knowing everything?” Thane’s voice was smooth, but threaded with something dark. “I make it my business to know what I’m working with.”
“You dug into my past?”
Thane’s mouth curved. “I was curious.”
Riven’s cock throbbed again at that word, curious. Like he didn’t just mean intel. Like he wanted Riven naked, open, trembling—like he wanted to fuck the secrets out of him.
“If you wanted dirt,” Riven said hoarsely, “I’d’ve handed you a shovel.”
“Next time,” Thane murmured. “But I already know enough.”
The elevator doors slid shut behind him with a hiss.
Riven stood there long after the silence returned, breathing hard, cock still aching. He hated Thane.
Hated the way he looked at him like he owned him. Like he knew exactly how to break him down. How to make him want.
Hated how close he was to dropping to his fucking knees.
He adjusted himself with a hiss and turned toward the locker rooms.
He had twenty minutes.