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“Riot . . .”
He grabs my wrist, and I have no choice but to get up and follow him, smiling apologetically at my companions while also trying not to bump into any tables.
“Riot . . . Wait, hold on.” He stops outside the restaurant, turning to me, and I suddenly forget what it is I was going to say when his gray eyes settle on me. “I . . . Um, don’t you think that was a little rude?”
“What?”
“Not at least acknowledging the people at the table with me.”
“Why would I acknowledge people who only minutes ago had you panicking in the bathroom?”
My heart flutters at his words, and a warm tingle rises along my spine from what his actions mean. The people pleaser in me would never survive pulling off what Riot just did, and yet, his actions have me sinking deeper into my feelings for him. Every time I am around him, I tell myself it’s the last time.
It has to be the last time.
And yet . . . it never is.
I shuffle nervously on my feet the longer he stares at me, and I have to remind myself that we are in public. “Riot,” I start, unsure what it is I want to tell him, but he must read the need in my eyes because he simply nods.
“My place,” he says. “It’s closer.”
The rest happens in a blur. The walk to his bike, the ride to his downtown apartment, and even the trip up in the elevator to his unit all happen in a flash, culminating with his lips on mine the second we walk into his apartment.
I don’t spare a moment to take in my surroundings as I tear at his shirt, seeking his skin needily and sighing when I feel the hard press of his pecs beneath my hands. He’s so masculine, all male with his firm body, broad shoulders, and dark hair that trails down his ripped stomach to the sharp line that disappears into his jeans.
His muscles contract when I trace a finger down his pecs, revealing just how perfect this man’s body is. How lucky I am that I get to touch it.
“You’re mine, Sasha,” he says roughly, grabbing the backs of my knees and lifting me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his hips and drop my lips to his, kissing him back desperately.
“Yes, yours,” I breathe. I don’t care if I belong to this man for a single night or only the week . . . I just want to belong to him. To be his and have him claim me in a way only he ever will.
Only him.
Our lips stay locked together in a frantic battle with need, sliding smoothly over each other as Riot carries me away. I’m too lost, mewling and writhing over the slick friction, to pay attention to where he’s taking me.
It’s not until my back hits the bed that I realize he’s brought me to his bedroom. “Fuck, you’re so goddamned gorgeous, baby,” he says, pulling back to look at me, but I’m having none of that. I cup his face and lean up to kiss his jaw and cheek, tracing my lips down to his Adam’s apple, growing feral with the need to touch. In here, with him, I am woman capable of going after what she wants. And I want him.
“Fuck baby,” he grits out, rocking his hips and rubbing his erection against my inner thigh when I run my tongue over his throat.
I whine when he breaks away to trail his lips down my neck, tugging roughly at my blouse in an attempt to get to my aching tits. My lips part on a whimper when his mouth drops to my breasts, licking at the peaking buds and sending a shiver racking my body.
“I . . . My lunch break is definitely over,” I whimper, my back arching when he grazes his teeth over my taut nipple.
“I guess they’ll just have to miss you,” he growls, his tone void of remorse, and that sends my stomach fluttering. Perhaps I should care that this is not the time to be doing this, but I can’t bring myself to, not when he’s kissing and touching me the way he is. “I can’t stop baby,” he echoes my thoughts, his hands dropping to the zipper of my pants and tugging it down. He grabs my waistband, and I lift my hips as he yanks them down along with my panties, leaving me naked and vulnerable.
I don’t get the chance to think about how exposed I am as he starts kissing the path down my stomach, grabbing my leg, and lifting it to his shoulder. My back arches, and I bite down on a scream when I feel his wet tongue glide along the center of folds. Riot spent nearly the entire weekend with me, most of it in bed, but this is the first time I’ve felt his mouth on my sex.
“Riot! Oh fuck,” I whimper, digging my nails into his sheets as he laps at my sex like a starved man, licking at my arousal with a hunger that’s hard to believe. I jerk on the bed when he adds his finger, rubbing my aching clit with my thumb and causing me to grow slicker by the second.
My cries grow louder and more fevered as he brings me to the edge alarmingly fast. I dig my heel into his back as I feel myself tipping closer and closer to a fall, and everything comes crashing down when his lips close around my swollen bundle of nerves and tugs gently. My hips vault off the bed and stars explode behind my eyelids. I scream as pleasure ricochets through my body, drawn out by Riot’s continued strokes with his tongue over my sex.
I have no idea how long the sensation lasts, only that it leaves me feeling like the earth has shifted off its axis and dropped me into space. I’m unmoored, lost in sea of ecstasy.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you come, baby,” Riot whispers into my ear, and I gasp at the hard press of his erection to my sex. “I need to see you come again, all over my cock this time.”
Christ.
I should think about the fact that I am skipping work to be here. Or the fact that I am not supposed to be with this man at all, and yet . . .
