Chapter 35 Riven
Riven
I wake the following morning with Sloane wrapped tightly in my arms, her back against my chest, and our legs intertwined in a fit of limbs.
I inhale deeply against her hair, the scent of jasmine and amber overpowering my senses most exquisitely.
I trace lazy circles over her arm with the pad of my thumb, imagining a time when we never have to leave this place.
This little encapsulated space where only she and I exist. She exhales, moaning and burrowing her head deeper into my arm that’s beneath her.
She’s perfect.
She’s everything.
I remember the words I said to her last night before I allowed my fear to stop the next ones from reaching her ears.
The one word that truly mattered. I’m such an idiot.
The word was right there, on the tip of my tongue, ready to be received.
I don’t know what stopped me from expressing it.
Maybe it was the fear that she might not reciprocate it.
Maybe it was the voice inside my head that tells me she’s entirely too good for me and deserves someone better.
That stupid voice and I both know that I’m entirely too selfish to give her up, regardless of how much she might deserve better.
She wiggles against me, stirring to a wakeful state and turning her head to peer at me over her shoulder.
“Good morning, darling,” I say.
“Good morning.” She sighs, reaching up to place a hand on my arm that’s around her waist. She brushes her thumb against my skin softly.
“Sleep well?” I whisper against the shell of her ear, earning a shudder in response. I grin, loving the way her body answers to mine.
“Mhmm,” she replies. She sits up suddenly, and I immediately feel the emptiness of having her in my arms.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, confused, sitting up with her.
She scans the room and then looks above her at the ceiling, where her chandelier is perfectly intact.
It appears as though we never pulled it loose from the chains that connect it to the ceiling.
Thankfully, we didn’t break it or damage the ceiling.
“You fell asleep. I had a little nervous energy to burn off, so I fixed it while you slept.” A half-truth.
I don’t tell her that I cleaned her up using a washcloth from her bathroom, making sure that no inch of her perfect porcelain skin was forsaken.
I don’t tell her that I dressed her in a pair of her silk plum pajamas so that she’d be most comfortable in what she usually sleeps in.
What I wanted was to feel her bare skin against mine, but thanks to my camera installation, I know how she prefers to sleep.
And I definitely don’t tell her that I lay awake for hours admiring her while she slept, whispering three little words to her over and over again.
She blushes, averting my gaze. She’s recoiling into that place where she thinks she isn’t worthy of love.
She lifts her hand, and I’m sure she’s about to play with her earring.
I grab her wrist, holding it there. She flicks those gorgeous eyes up to mine in shock as I bring her hand to my lips.
She relaxes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her swollen lips.
I kiss once, twice, and then a third time.
“Know this, Sloane,” I say, holding her gaze as I softly bite the side of her hand.
“Know that I will take care of you, and you will allow it. Know that you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.” I pause, running my tongue up the side of her thumb.
“Know that last night was everything. You were perfect, are perfect.” I reach the top of her thumb, sucking it into my mouth before releasing it.
Her chest rises and falls faster as her eyes lock onto my hand around her wrist and then on my mouth.
“And I can’t wait to do it over, and over, and over again.
” I drop her wrist, bringing my hand to her jaw and my mouth down onto hers.
I kiss her softly. When I pull back, her eyes are still closed.
She flutters them open slowly, eyes finding mine. “Thank you,” she whispers.
I’m not exactly sure what she’s thanking me for, but I nod in understanding anyway.
I stand, grabbing my shirt and sweatpants from the floor and putting them back on.
She sits up, kneeling back on her heels.
She watches me intently, eyes tracking down my body in a way that makes me want to strip those damn silk pajamas right off her skin and pick up where we left off last night.
“What?” I laugh. It comes out more hoarse than I intended.
“You’re just so you,” she says, waving a hand carelessly in my direction before palming her face.
“I mean, you’re freaking hot, okay?” She peeks at me between two fingers, squinting like she’s trying to shield herself from the jump scare scene in a horror film.
I chuckle, walking over to grab her wrist and remove her hand from in front of her eyes.
“Do not hide from me, Sloane. Ever. I want to see all of you, always,” I say, dropping her wrist. “Plus, you’re the fucking hot one.
I mean, have you looked in the mirror?” I joke, shifting the conversation to a lighter topic.
“Ha Ha,” she replies sarcastically. She climbs off the bed and saunters over to me, wrapping her arms around my chest and looking up. It feels so natural. I’ve never felt anything like it.
“What are you up to today, Mr. Reilly?” she asks, smiling up at me.
I sigh. “Well, as much as I’d love nothing more than to spend all day buried deep inside of you, I unfortunately have a meeting to attend.” I brush a loose strand of hair and tuck it behind her ear.
She bites on her lower lip, eyes ignited with a fire that I’m instantly drawn to.
“Careful, darling,” I warn.
“What?” she teases back, knowing exactly what she’s doing. She brings her arms up around my neck and starts massaging her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck.
“You can’t look at me like that,” I groan, moving in to bring my lips against her ear, “because when you do, it makes me want to do unimaginable, filthy, depraved things to you.” She exhales, and I feel the warmth of her breath on my skin.
“Look at you like … what?” she asks, breathless. She’s trying to maintain the illusion that she’s oblivious to what she does to me, but it’s slipping by the second.
I bring my mouth down until our lips are touching. “Like you want me to do all of those unimaginable, filthy, depraved things to you.” Her eyes pin mine, an ocean green that I could easily drown in. Neither of us makes a single move for several seconds.
And then, our lips crash together in a frenzy, immediately transcending into a reckless abandonment of control.
We’re both grabbing at each other’s clothing, on a pursuit to remove all barriers between us.
She lifts her arms and scrambles out of her shorts while I raise her pajama top up and over her head, tossing it to the side.
She reaches for my shirt, but I’m already reaching over my head to take it off.
She claws at the waistband of my pants and boxers, pulling down roughly while I step out of them and kick them to the side.
My cock that’s been begging for reprieve springs free from confinement.
I almost groan when she steps back into me, creating friction against me with the warmth of her body.
Her mouth is back on mine in seconds, her hands entangling in my hair.
She tugs hard and deepens the kiss as our tongues meet.
I run my hands over her hips only to realize that she’s still wearing underwear, and that just won’t do.
I pull back to address that little problem when I decide that I don’t have the time to waste.
Instead, I grip them on either side and pull hard, ripping them off of her.
She gasps, looking down. Her eyes widen for a split second before she averts her gaze back up to me.
She’s pinning me with that ravenous, fiery look that I warned her about mere minutes before.
I spin her around and push her face-first into the mattress in front of her.
I grip her wrists in one of my hands and hold them behind her back.
“Don’t move your arms, Sloane. Do you understand?” I warn, in question.
“Yes,” she says, voice muffled against the mattress.
I tap both of her feet with mine to spread her legs wider for me and line myself up at her entrance.
I mistakenly glance over and spot Josh on the fucking floor near the corner of the bed.
I bend down, pick it up, and smack her across the ass cheek with the book before tossing it on the mattress within her line of sight.
Because, why the fuck not? She gulps, turning her cheek to discover the object next to her.
Then, she has the nerve to fucking laugh.
“That’s for thinking that any book boyfriend can fuck you better than I can,” I say, before smacking her other ass cheek hard with my hand. I know it stings because her skin immediately reddens with the print of my hand. I grin at my literal handiwork.
“And that one’s for laughing,” I say. She groans into the mattress, wiggling her hips so that the duvet rubbing against her pussy gives her the friction she’s desperately seeking.
“Do you want to come, darling?” I ask, massaging the handprint that’s now fully stamped on her ass cheek.
“Yes, please,” she begs. Fuck, I love it when she begs.
“Tell me how bad you want it. Tell me how bad you need it,” I order, bringing my hand down between her legs.
“Always so ready for me,” I murmur, dipping a finger inside of her as I reach forward to massage her clit. She presses against my hand.
“How bad, Sloane?” I ask again.
“So bad. I need you so badly, Riven. Please,” she begs, downright shameless, and fuck, does it make my already hard cock even harder.
I groan, sliding my cock down the center of her ass cheeks.
I remove my hand and move it to her hip, gripping it for leverage as I line myself up to her entrance again.
I press into her until only the tip is in and then pull it out.
She whimpers and pushes her ass up, attempting to grab behind her.
I tsk. “What did I say, Sloane? Keep your hands behind your back,” I growl. She obeys, crossing them over her lower back.
“So obedient, darling. Now let me reward you,” I say, before pushing in to the hilt.
Her nails dig into her palms, and a loud moan escapes her lips.
I drag back out slowly and do it again, and once more.
She’s bucking against me, panting. I wrap my hands around both of her hips and grab, pulling her against me until I’m fully inside of her again.
I lean over her until my mouth is against her ear.
“Breathe, Sloane,” I pause, tugging her earlobe between my teeth.
“Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t.
” She sucks in a long, deep breath as she’s told, and then I fuck her.
The sounds of her ass hitting my thighs and her escalating moaning are the only noises in the room.
My grip on her hips is rough, and I don’t take it easy on her.
I thrust forward while pulling her back at a speed that has her already nearing what I want.
I can feel her walls tightening around me within seconds.
She arches her head back and half moans, half cries out my name from her beautiful fucking mouth.
“That’s it, darling. You’re doing so good for me.
” Her legs shake as she comes down, but I don’t stop.
Instead, I continue at the same unforgiving depth and speed that has her coming all over my cock a second time.
She grows slicker with every thrust, and I slide in and out of her effortlessly.
It feels like I could lose myself inside of her forever.
“You feel so fucking good, Sloane,” I groan, slowing down only enough to make sure she doesn’t pass out.
She’s panting as tears fall down the sides of her cheeks.
I reach a hand around and massage her clit in slow circles.
She moans, rolling her hips against my hand.
The way she’s moving around my cock now is going to end this entirely too soon.
“Riven, yes. That feels so …” She struggles to get the words out, but I know, and I need her to save her energy.
“I know, darling. I know,” I groan. She continues rolling her hips against me, around me.
“Sloane, I need you to come for me one more time. Now,” I grunt, nearing my own orgasm at lightning speed. I slow my thrusts, stalling, as I rub her clit faster and faster until she’s where I want her.
“That’s it. Just like that. Let go for me,” I say, now breathless. My words are her final sprint to the finish line as she tightens around me again, shuddering and moaning into the mattress. It’s mostly incomprehensible, and it doesn’t matter, because I’m right behind her.
“Fuck, Sloane. I’m gonna …” I’m unable to verbalize the last word out loud, but I do a hell of a job showing her as I slam into her and hold her against me, spilling inside of her for the second time in less than twelve hours.
Although I know she’s on the pill, I can’t help when thoughts of her carrying our child flash through my mind. One day.
I’m unable to move. In fact, I never want to move ever again.
She relaxes into the mattress, bringing her arms up to her face.
Her back rises and falls at a steady, slowing rhythm.
I pull out of her slowly, cradling her into my arms to carry her to her bathtub.
She sighs, resting her head against my chest. I look down and am relieved when there’s a soft smile on her lips. She looks exhausted, but not only that.
No. My little nightmare looks downright content.
Content in my arms.
Content with me.