Page 101 of Riordan's Revenge

“The fucking police are out there.”

“We own them,” I yelled back. “The worst-case scenario is they’d arrest me and take me to the station to appease the mayor then quietly let me go. Two of my brothers get arrested with alarming regularity, but never have any of us been charged. We have this covered. It’s a fucking game.”

He backed me to the wall, his hand coming around my throat and forcing my chin to tip up. My chest rose and fell. The way he looked at me, the need and pain and hurt…

“Nothing about your safety is a game, Cassiopeia Archer. Nothing.”

“What ye did—” I started.

Riordan brought his free hand to the front of my shorts, still undone from his exhibition. Holding my gaze, he drove his fingers inside to cup me between the legs. I sucked in a breath, my heart thumping, and words failed.

Every cell of my body was tuned in to the man in front of me. My furious, beautiful love.

He didn’t pause at the edge of my underwear but pushed inside. I moaned, and my eyes slid closed.

“It turned you on. Driving me to the brink of insanity made you wet. I should fuck you here so anyone who passes understands how I punish you when you behave like you aren’t owned.”

I was so bad for wanting that. For the way my core tightened and the wave of need that drowned me and soaked his fingers. Except I had a better idea. My act of penitence. If we were lucky, we’d be right on time.

Forcing my mind to restart, I eased my hand over his, tugging it lightly out of my underwear.

“Come with me.”

I led him down the hall, my shorts open and gaping around my waist. My hips swayed with each stab of my black heels to the floor. My huge boyfriend shifted his grip to the back of my neck and moved with me.

At the lift, we travelled up to the third floor. The brothel.

I shot a message to Dixie to confirm we were here, then I found our room.

Riordan followed me inside. One wall was made up of glass, an empty room the other side providing a spill of light into our otherwise darkened one. Music played, and I smiled at Dixie’s choice. ‘on your knees’ by Ex Habit.

Riordan folded his arms. “What’s happening?”

The door opened in the other room. Dixie strutted out, bringing a man with her, Lex, another of the sex workers. In a cropped top and tiny skirt that flashed her underwear, she guided Lex to the single chair in the room and posed with her fingertips to his chest. I took the point, bringing Riordan’s gaze back to me.

“Sit down. They can’t see us.”

“Why are they there?”

“Why do ye think?” I propelled him to the black leather sofa.

Dixie circled Lex, drawing her touch around his shoulders, but her words were for me. “I’m going to start by stating the obvious. Any guy is going to get off by someone hot touching his dick. Getting him to come is easy. Seduction is harder. It’s a skill, just the same as giving a good blow job.”

“You don’t need to fucking seduce me,” Riordan grouched.

I didn’t reply, waiting for my cue from my teacher. Dixie didn’t disappoint.

“Eye contact is a must. Heard of the triangle gaze? Left eye, right eye, lips. A heartbeat spent on each then eyes down and smile to yourself. It’s how I used to get walk-ins to pick me above any other woman in the receiving room.”

I stared at Riordan, in love with his eyes, my insides clenching again at the cruel twist to his lips. He was so pissed off with me. I had to break that.

“Assuming you’ve got your guy and made it to a bedroom, it’s a game to keep control. You take it, then cede it at the right moment so he gets the thrill of the conquest. Order him to keep his hands to himself. Dirty talk a little if you can, meaning tell him the things you want to do to him. Then we’re going to remove some clothes, enough to give him a good view and get the blood flowing to the right place. Better still, do this.”

Dixie straddled Lex and whispered to him.

He smirked and stripped her cropped top, revealing her perfect, round tits in a very skimpy bra. Dixie brought his hands to them, using their joined fingers to caress her shape.

I tore my gaze away to Riordan. He wasn’t watching them. Instead, he waited on me, his jaw locked and his knees wide. As if anticipating me. And making it more difficult.

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