Page 52 of Riley

I want him... this man who makes me unable to think or see straight.

This man who drives me crazy.

“Yes,” I cried out as my hands settled on his hips once more, which I noticed were now bare. I opened my eyes for a moment to see him above me, naked, his thick, beautiful cock also weeping with delight.

I let my hand slide lazily over his hip, cupping his ass as I looked up into his eyes.

Riley touched me with a reverence I’d never known. Like he truly felt my body was agift.

Like nothing mattered butthis.

Us.

Riley smirked as he withdrew his hand, sliding down and replacing it with his warm mouth. In one swift motion, he took me into the back of his throat, moaning and groaning as he labored his tongue around my engorged cock.

“Fuck...” I hissed as I fought against his hold. The desire to flip him and be on top, with my cock shoved down his throat was a natural reaction. I didn’t like to beanyone’sbottom.

Riley traced his fingers along my thighs until his hands were beneath my ass cheeks and he was gently lifting me off the bed. The edge of his thumb brushed against my entrance, teasing me, taunting me, and in his grip I was putty.

Resistance was futile, and the second he pressed the edge of his finger against my sensitive entrance, I cried out his name like a prayer.

And in some ways, perhaps that’s what Riley was to me.

A prayer, a wish.

A chance to live happily ever after.

When my faculties returned, I turned to him, reaching for his cock.

Riley only smiled, shaking his head. “That’s not necessary,” he said softly, and he climbed off the bed.

Panic laced through me once again, that I’d done something wrong. Though Riley turned to look at me as he picked up his clothes, his gaze soft and inviting.

“But... I need to take care of you,” I whined.

God, the things this man does to me, it’s like I don’t even know myself!

Riley slid his underwear on, my sight trained on him. He slid his briefs up over his cock, which looked to be softening.

“You already did,” he said with a blush. “I’m, uh, going to find some breakfast,” he said as he pulled on his shirt.

I watched him like a black and white movie; intently and with bated breath.

A part of me knew he wouldn’tleaveme, but anxiety and memory told me I’d been in this scenario too many times before to believe it would be different.

“Okay,” I said shakily, watching him leave.

I hoped I was wrong.

CHAPTER 22

Riley

The rideback home was much quieter, probably due to the fact we were both more than spent.

Figuratively and physically.

I had meant what I said to Eric. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten so drunk, or the last time I’d really let my walls down.

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