Page 118 of Riot

I’m his in every way.

And he’s mine.

My hips lift as his nose instantly goes to my core, breathing me in. I’m already wet, and he runs his fingers through my slick heat before he licks between my folds.

My body lights up as my breath hitches.

This isn’t going to be hearts and flowers. We’ve waited too long for that. It’s feral, unrepressed desperation as his fingers slide inside me, stretching, preparing me to take him.

“Fuck.” His voice is a guttural groan, matching my soft pants of pleasure as he strokes my clit.

I tumble through my climax seeing stars, and I sit up long enough for our mouths to crash together.

The raw, unfiltered passion is too much and yet not enough. I’m sure there’s mindless desperation in my eyes as our mouths torment each other.

Safe. Happy. Feral.

My hands are under his shirt, touching every part of him I can. Then I move lower. He growls into my neck as I scrape my nails over his cock

“I need you inside me,” I whimper.

He shoves his jeans down, just enough to free himself, then his eyes flick to mine. The question dances in them.

“Please.”

He moves between my legs, and I cling to his shoulders as he feeds his shaft into my body.

The stretch, the intrusion, it drags a groan from me, and I hold him tight as he starts to move.

Riot’s pace is slow then builds, like he’s hanging onto control by his fingertips.

My pussy squeezes him with every thrust, our eyes locked together.

I love him.

Every part of him. The broken. The damaged. The funny. The obsessive. The protective.

All of him.

And he loves those parts of me too, the ones I hid away for so long. Now, there’s no need to wear masks or build walls. He can see behind them anyway.

One more savage thrust and I shatter. He spills inside me, his hips stuttering, and his throat tightens, like a scream is caught behind his teeth.

Chests heaving, still pulsing and joined together, I didn’t think things between us could get any better, and yet this was everything.

This was me and him finally coming together.

I trail kisses down the side of his face, loving every inch of him, showing him without words what he means to me.

“Fuck,” he groans into my shoulder.

“Your side okay?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s fine.” He lifts his head, and the way he’s looking at me, like I’m his reason for existing, chases away any doubts I might have had lingering. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

I’m not, but neither is he. And that’s okay. We don’t need to be perfect. We just need to be.

I glance at the desk I’m sitting on the edge of and wince at the mess we’ve made. “I really hope this isn’t Maylie’s desk.”

His dimples appear. “Babe, you think her and Mace ain’t fucked on it?”

A full body shiver works through me. “I didn’t need that image in my head.”

He holds my face like I’m his anchor in the storm, and I lean into it.

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper. “And I love you. Do you love me?”

His eyes are soft. “Until my last breath.”