Page 68 of Riot

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. Grabbing her hips, I roll us and position her face down, yanking her ass up. I drive into her pretty pussy as she starts to scream, fisting the bedding as she pushes back to take me.

I’m so fucking close from being edged all night, it only takes her pretty cunt clenching around my cock as she orgasms for me to bellow my release. I shove my cock so deep, she whines, and I fill her to the brim with my cum. The pleasure is so intense I nearly black out, rolling my hips until I finally slump onto her, spent, exhausted, and oh so fucking satisfied.

I tug her into my arms and kiss her shoulder and neck. “Punish me any time you want, sweetheart. I’ll be ready and waiting.”

THIRTY-THREE

I’m tired, only having a few hours of sleep, but I don’t want to lounge in bed all day. We have things to do. Luckily, the staff isn’t in yet, so I drink my tea in the kitchen in peace, smiling at the flowers filling the entire space.

There are so many of them now, they cover every surface. Maybe it’s selfish to keep them, but I can’t bring myself to part with them when they turn up every day. Leaning forward, I trace a few petals with a soft smile.

“Morning, sweetheart. Did today’s delivery come?” He gestures at the fresh bouquet on the table, and I nod.

He kisses me as he walks past. “You must have a whole supplier for them,” I tease.

“True. They were hard to find, but it worked out.” He heads my way, sitting next to me in his boxers and drinking his coffee—Kage’s only vice except for me.

He pulls his phone out and types away on it as I sip my tea.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he stares at his phone. He turns it to me, and I see camera feeds. I frown, realizing they are in his house.

“Checking on Ice and making sure she isn’t lonely,” he replies without a hint of embarrassment. I hide my smile behind my cup as I watch him. “I had Elijah check on her last night, but I wanted to make sure.”

What is it about a hot guy caring about animals that makes women weak?

He lifts his head like he feels me watching, arching one eyebrow, so I force my thoughts in another direction, since my pussy is still sore after last night. Tracing a petal on a flower, I tilt my head. “You never told me about the blue color.”

He puts his phone down and lifts my legs onto his lap. One hand massages my calves as he sips his coffee. He always reaches for me, as if he needs to be touching me at all times. I don’t think he even realizes he does it, and I’ll admit I like it. He anchors me, keeping me in this world when I would easily fall into the darkness that lives within me. His touch is a reminder that he’s here and he loves me, that he’ll protect me and fight off my nightmares.

“You were wearing that same shade of blue when we first met,” he answers, watching me with a soft grin.

Frowning, I look at the flower and then him. “No, I wasn’t. I was wearing gold at the awards show.”

His smile only grows, reaching his eyes. “That wasn’t the first time we met.”

My heart skips a beat as I stare into his handsome face. “I’m a bitch, but I would have remembered you.”

“Hmm, I was younger then, no one important. I was a nobody. You were a star—untouchable and beautiful,” he explains as my frown deepens. “You were young, and I was barely eighteen. I ran into you by accident on a street in London. I was job hunting, needing something to put food on the table, and I accidently bumped into you when I rushed past you, hurrying to an interview. I hit the ground hard. Everyone around me, all your security and fans, started to shout at me and got angry, but you just turned toward me with a smile on your face, then you looked down at me and offered me your hand. It was nothing to you, just a nicety, but that hand was the first to reach for me in the dark. I took it and got to my feet, and you helped straighten my cheap suit. You wished me good luck after I explained I was late for an interview. You even asked what it was for. Hell, I couldn’t even remember my own name after looking into your face. I said it didn’t matter, and you told me it should matter, that I should only run and chase after something I want—something I’m passionate about, like you with music.”

My heart freezes in my chest as he smiles lovingly.

“You were right. I was just wandering until that point, not even thinking about my future because I didn’t think I had one. After one run-in with you, I wanted to be better. I wanted to be someone who could be worthy of the look you gave me—worthy of you. You had on this long, blue silk dress. I remember it so clearly. We were kids, Fallon, but you looked like you had it all figured out. You were on top of the world, and I was at the bottom, but you looked at me like I meant something. You wanted me when nobody else did.”

“I don’t remember,” I whisper in shame.

“Fallon.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “I didn’t expect you to remember me. That meeting might have changed my life, but you have changed a lot of lives. I don’t hold it against you. I’m honored just to be with you now and know you’re mine. It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember. It was a passing moment for you, but for me, it changed my life. It gave me you. Honestly, it might be insane, but I’ve been obsessed with you from that very moment. Even when I forced my way into the music industry, it was for you. I wanted to show you I could and that I was worth it. That soon changed, though, because then I wanted to protect and love you.”

My heart clenches at his earnest confession. He’s so fucking crazy, but he’s so kind to me. Every other hand that has ever been offered to me came with anger and pain, while his is filled with nothing but love and obsession.

He would never hurt or leave me.

He’s the first person who hasn’t hurt me.

“Without you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have any money, music, or a future. I wouldn’t have you. That’s why when I tell you my life is yours, I mean it. You made me, Fallon. I built it all for you, so tear it down if you want to. I don’t care. It’s yours,” he promises as he kisses my hand. “To everyone else, I’m a rock star, but to you, I’m yours.”

“You’re insane,” I murmur, but it’s more like a love confession than an insult. He did all this for me after meeting me for two minutes? My ex-husband wouldn’t even be seen at my side at awards shows after being together for years, and my father wouldn’t even protect me although he was my dad, yet this man, this stranger, changed his entire life to be in mine.

How could I not love him?

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