Page 80 of Riot

Dead.

He turns me anyway, rolling me in his arms as he looks down at me, scanning my face and seeing everything I don’t want him to. I expect disgust, maybe anger, or even pity, but his expression softens as he stares at me. None of these emotions are there, just worry, which, for some reason, is so much worse.

“Tell me what you need, Fallon,” he murmurs, peering down at me without judgment, just wanting to help. “Tell me how to make this easier for you. Do you want me here? Is it better if I’m gone? Do I need to snap you out of it? Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how to help you.”

Working my throat, I try to speak, but when my voice comes, it’s rough. “Make it stop.”

“How?” he asks, searching my eyes.

“Make it hurt,” I tell him, ashamed, but I’m desperate to be rid of these feelings, and that overrides my shame. “Make me feel anything other than this cold dread. I don’t need you to make me feel happy, I don’t even think it’s possible, but I need you to remind me that I’m alive, so make it hurt. Pain is my companion, my constant. It’s what has kept me alive this long, so bring me back to life.”

He doesn’t ask me if I’m sure or tell me no. Instead, he leans down and digs his teeth into my lower lip. I gasp, the sharp pain stabbing through me.

“You want me to make it hurt, beautiful? You want me to remind you that you’re alive?”

I nod, wide-eyed, staring up into his dark eyes heated with hunger as he rubs my bleeding lip with his thumb.

“Then keep your eyes on me. I’ll be your raft.”

He yanks the covers back, tossing them from the bed as he kneels above me. Grabbing the back of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, exposing his stunning chest. A spark of desire ignites inside me as I stare at him, and he unbuckles his jeans before lowering so he’s above me, licking down my chin to my neck where he bites. I reach for his shoulders, my nails curling into his skin to keep him close.

He kisses the sting away before sliding farther down my chest, leaving stinging bites until his teeth clamp down on my nipple, making me cry out as my back arches. He bites harder, and I clench my thighs together in need, the pain making my clit throb as desire washes through me. I can feel my own wetness from his rough treatment, his fingers denting my skin and leaving bruises as he releases my nipple, letting blood return, and the feeling makes me clench with need before he gives my other nipple the same treatment. He’s making it hurt just like I asked, but with love in his eyes.

It’s different from what they did to me.

He’s doing this because I asked, because he loves me.

They did it because they enjoyed it. Maybe I should feel bad because I crave this kind of punishment, but I don’t care—not with his dark eyes on me.

He leans back, looking me over as I pant below him. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful . . . so fucking mine.” Leaning down, he sweeps his tongue down my stomach, making me shiver. “Those feelings inside you can’t have you, Fallon. You belong to me. Do you hear me?” When I don’t respond, he turns his head and bites my thigh so hard I actually scream. “I said, do you hear me?”

“Yes. Yours.”

“Good girl.” He kneels above me, dragging his tongue over his lips. “I can’t hold back. You wanted it to hurt, sweetheart. Remember that.”

I yelp as he grips my hips and yanks me down the bed and between his legs, my head hitting the mattress as he lifts my hips and slams into me. The pain from his invasion makes me whimper, even as my heart pounds, coming back to life.

Desire and hunger fill me, replacing my dread.

His hands pin mine to the bed, pressing them into the mattress, the pain from my cuts making me cry out and clench around his cock as he drives into me. His hard, quick thrusts have me moving up the bed with each one. He doesn’t relent or slow down, just hammers into me.

He fucks me so brutally, it borders on being too much, yet it’s all I can feel.

He’s all I can see.

Those voices disappear, and the exhaustion is replaced as he brings me back to life.

I cry out his name as he fucks me, his lips twisting in a snarl, but then he pulls from my body, making me whimper.

Flipping me, he presses my face into the bed. I fight against him, but he keeps me pinned as he hammers into me, and I love it. I love how roughly he fucks me.

He doesn’t fuck me like I’m the ice princess or a superstar, but like I’m me. Fallon.

The woman he wants.

I let the pain run through me, mixing with pleasure inside me until I’m a bomb ready to detonate. When his fingers pinch my clit, I do just that.

I explode with a scream, taking him down with me as he bellows my name.

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