Page 105 of Rinkmates

She feels so good. So fucking good.

She gasps against my neck, wraps her legs tighter around me as I thrust into her again and again. We set a rhythm that’s both harsh and oh so fucking perfect at the same time. When she lowers her head, he licks over my nipple, and I let out a deep sigh. Tendrils of pleasure coil around limbs when her warm, wet mouth envelops them, an almost-pain I wanted more of.

I grasp her breast roughly, my other hand squeezing her tight ass as I circle and twist her nipple. My hips thrust relentlessly, hitting her clit over and over.

“Fucking hell.” I let out a slow hiss. “You want more?”

She whimpers in response. But instead of giving her more, I stop—a wicked smile on my face.

“Did I take away your ability to speak? I asked if you want more.”

“Yes. Yes. I-I’m coming,” she stammers out.

I pause again, relishing in her desperation. “Yes, what?”

She looks up at me with fire in her eyes. “Riley,” she snarls, ready to kill me. “I need more.”

I push forward, feeling the tight resistance of her entrance before pulling out again. “Say please,” I say.

She’s on the verge of screaming at me, but instead, she takes my hips with a ferocity that draws blood from my skin. She grinds her body against mine until my throbbing dick is poised at her dripping entrance again, but I refuse to let her take it in. Absolutely no way.

She has to work for it.

“Say. Please.”

She bites her lip and I push my hips forward, that wet head of my cock teasing her clit again.

“Please,” she chokes out the word and I let my cock glide back into her.

She clings to me and I fuck her against the cold tiles, taking us both to the knife’s edge of insanity. Her warrior gaze is locked on me as she rides wave after wave after wave. I increase my speed and then, with one final thrust, we both explode in a frenzy of shivers. White-hot pleasure blazes through me and I basically collapse against the cold tiles with her in my arms.

“Oh shit,” she gasps.

“This should be illegal,” I pant.

I pullup in front of Juilliard’s main building, a striking, modern structure with shimmering glass walls that gleam amid the artistic pulse of the city. Its design blends sleek contemporary style with subtle nods to classic architecture.

Rosalie’s posted up at the entrance, leaning against massive stone columns like she owns the place. Her pink ballet dress flutters in the breeze and those oversized black shades on her nose could hide a small country. She stands nonchalantly, with her black hair pulled back into a neat bun, one hip cocked to the side, Louis Vuitton bags dangling from each hand. It’s enough of a show to make you forget she’s the same girl who got cuffed for joyriding without a license, partying underage, and running wild with a biker gang for a week last year during spring break. Ladies and gentlemen, my sister.

Jayce, sensing the impending storm, quickly hops out to retrieve her bags. I sigh. That princess always gets what she wants.

“Hey, losers!” she chirps, sliding into the backseat. Sweet perfume mingles with the air and bites at my nose.

Jayce sits down next to Rosalie, and without warning, she throws her feet onto his lap. “Jay, be a darling and give me a foot massage, will you?”

I snarl at her. “Rosie, sit properly.”

She sticks her tongue out at me but complies and pulls her feet back. “You’re all so prudish,” she complains, then turns to Liora with a smile. “Hi, I’m Rosalie, the fun sibling. Sorry about these two, they’ve got broomsticks up their asses.”

Liora chuckles, extending her hand. “I’m Liora, nice to meet you.”

Rosalie takes her hand and shakes it.

“What’s with the sunglasses?” I glance at Rosalie’s shades.

She shrugs. “I’ve been partying a bit, and my eyes are sensitive to sunlight.”

I grunt, hoping that’s all there is to it. My sister’s always been a handful, and I can only pray she hasn’t gotten herself into trouble again. But she’s an elite dancer. She wouldn’t—couldn’t…

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