Chapter 37
Thane’s breath was ragged, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile—but it wasn’t exertion. It was restraint, and it was shattering. Riven could see it in the tension of his jaw, the way his eyes darkened, heat and fury tangled together. He wanted this. He wanted Riven.
“Maybe,” Thane said at last, voice low and dangerous, “my pet needs to be punished.”
Riven didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away .He just smiled slowly. “Maybe he does,” he said.
That was all it took. Thane snapped.
He was on Riven in a second, spinning him around and slamming him back into the door—hard enough to make the wood creak again, though not so hard it hurt.
One of Thane’s hands locked around Riven’s throat, not cutting off breath, just claiming space.
The other went to Riven’s ass, grabbing and kneading it through his pants as he pressed his body flush behind him, his cock rock-solid against the curve of Riven’s backside.
“You don’t follow orders,” Thane growled into his ear. “You mouth off. You go over my head. And now you’re going to pay for it.”
Riven let out a shaky, eager breath. “Good.”
Thane’s grip tightened slightly at his throat, and he dragged him away from the door with brutal efficiency, shoving him toward the bed. “Strip. All of it. Now.”
Riven obeyed, practically tearing his clothes off. His cock bounced free already flushed and hard, his chest rising with anticipation. Thane didn’t undress. He moved behind Riven like a predator, one hand sliding down Riven’s spine before landing a sharp slap across his ass.
Riven gasped, then groaned, arching into it. “Fuck.”
“That’s one,” Thane murmured. “We’ll see how many you can take before you start begging.”
Riven turned his head, licking his lips. “You think I’ll beg?”
Thane answered with another sharp smack, then another, alternating sides, slow and measured and perfectly placed. “I know you will.”
The heat built fast. Riven’s body trembled, not from fear, but from pleasure so sharp it almost hurt.
He’d never liked pain before, but this wasn’t pain.
This was power. This was being known. Thane touched him like he understood every inch of him, like he knew what would push him right to the edge without sending him over.
After a fifth, harder smack, Riven cried out and sank forward onto the mattress, gasping.
“Color?” Thane asked, even as his hand trailed lightly over the red marks blooming on Riven’s skin.
“Green,” Riven said, almost instantly. “Fuck. Green.”
“Good.” Thane’s voice dropped again. “You take punishment so well. So eager for it. You like being mine that much?”
Riven didn’t answer—he just moaned, a wrecked sound, cock throbbing where it brushed the sheets.
“You want me to make you feel it tomorrow,” Thane went on, voice honeyed and dangerous. “You want to ache and know who you belong to.”
“Yes,” Riven hissed. “Yes, Thane. Please.”
Thane undid his own pants at last, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He gripped it, stroked once, and then lined himself up.
“No prep?” Riven asked, breath catching. There was challenge in his voice.
“You can take it. My good boy can take anything for me, can’t he?”
Riven shuddered. “Yeah. I can.”
Thane spit into his hand and slicked himself as best he could, then pressed forward slowly but firmly, forcing his way into Riven inch by inch.
Riven gasped, hands clawing at the bedding, but he didn’t resist. He moaned as Thane filled him, as the stretch turned to pleasure sharp enough to make him lightheaded.
“Look at you,” Thane murmured, dragging his hips back and then slamming forward again. “So fucking perfect. So hungry for me.”
He didn’t fuck Riven gently. One hand slid back to Riven’s throat, pressing lightly, angling his head, while the other stayed on his hip, bruising tight. The rhythm was brutal, relentless, perfectly paced to drive Riven crazy.
“You’re mine,” Thane said, low and vicious and praising. “Look at you taking it. My strong, stubborn pet. My beautiful fucktoy.”
Every word went straight to Riven’s cock. He was leaking against the sheets, pleasure sparking up his spine with every thrust.
“I’m yours,” Riven gasped. “Fuck, Thane, I’m yours—”
Thane bent over him, chest pressed to Riven’s back, and whispered into his ear, “Say it louder.”
“I’m yours,” Riven moaned, voice ragged. “Yours. Always.”
Thane’s rhythm faltered—just for a second—before he rammed into him one last time and came, hips jerking, breath caught in his throat.
He stayed like that for a long moment, buried deep, cock twitching as he spilled inside Riven. Then with careful hands, he pulled out, turned Riven over, and stared down at him.
“You still think I started it?” he asked.
Riven, flushed and shaking and thoroughly wrecked, grinned up at him. “You definitely finished it.”
Thane laughed once, and leaned down to kiss him again—this time slow, almost tender.
Almost.
But Thane wasn’t finished. He dropped to his knees without a word, dragging Riven to the edge of the bed by his thighs.
His eyes flicked up once, heavy with heat and possession, before he wrapped his mouth around Riven’s flushed, desperate cock.
Riven let out a choked moan, head falling back as Thane sucked him deep, no preamble, no mercy.
He was too sensitive, too raw, his body already trembling—but Thane didn’t let up.
He worked him with practiced greed, tongue flicking over the head, one hand pinning Riven’s hip while the other slid between his thighs to tease at his sore, leaking hole.
The touch made Riven buck and cry out, the sharp edge of overstimulation melting into unbearable pleasure.
It didn’t take long. He came hard, hips jerking, spilling down Thane’s throat—and Thane swallowed it all, never breaking eye contact, never letting up until Riven collapsed against the mattress, boneless and shaking.
Thane rose slowly, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression had shuttered again, the raw heat gone, replaced by steel. He looked down at Riven, sprawled out and panting, marked and wrecked and thoroughly used, and yet his voice was measured when he spoke.
“I have no use for a pet who doesn’t listen,” he said quietly, but the warning in his tone scraped like a blade along Riven’s spine. “And even less for one who doesn’t recognize the danger they’re in—who thinks rebellion is some petty game.”
Riven didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure he could. His mouth was parted, lungs still dragging in ragged breaths, but his eyes stayed locked on Thane.
Thane tucked himself back into his pants with crisp, practiced movements, as though he hadn’t just lost control of himself completely. As though Riven weren’t still dripping onto the sheets.
“I gave you one command,” Thane said, adjusting his cuffs. “And you disobeyed.”
Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, the door shutting hard behind him. The silence left in his wake was deafening.
Riven lay there, aching in every way, the sting on his ass fading slow as the weight of what had just happened settled over him.
And even then, part of him still wanted more, a part that was far bigger than it had any right to be.