Page 71 of Ricochet

Ruin him, yes.

Make him mine, yes.

Break him, no.

I don’t know if there’s a difference between being obsessed and being addicted. But it doesn’t matter because I’m both.

My hand is still around his cock between us, still slick with lube. I stroke him in time with my thrusts, capturing every noise from his mouth with mine until he has to pull back to draw breath.

“I’m gonna come,” I tell him as I stroke him a little harder, fuck him a little faster. “Gonna fill you up.”

Claim you.

Mark you.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back, and his dick throbs in my hand. “Gonna come too.”

And he does, about two seconds before me.

His release shoots out between our bodies, painting us with sticky, warm cum as my own is pumped deep inside him.

His legs fall from around my waist, and I have to hold myself up from crashing on top of him. His eyelids flutter, like they’re heavy but he’s trying hard to keep them open. After a moment, he fails and lets them close. There’s a lazy smile on his face, and I can’t stop myself from kissing it.

Slowly, he forces his eyes open. His smile turns a little shaky as his words come out as barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t think it’d feel that good.”

My heart damn near fucking shatters for him.

I kiss him again. “I’ll always make you feel good, baby.Always.”

He sighs and shuts his eyes again.

When I sit up and my soft cock slips out of him, he makes a little noise but doesn’t stir. I crawl backwards off the bed, trying not to get distracted by the sight of a drop of my cum escaping him, and pick up my shirt from the floor. I should probably go into the bathroom and bring back a wet washcloth, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving him alone right now.

After I clean us both up the best I can with my shirt, I lie down beside him, bringing the covers up over us both. Without even opening his eyes, he curls up against my side, throwing an arm over my waist. Pulling him even closer, I hold him tight.

If he needs comfort, I’ll soothe him.

If he’s touch starved, I’ll feed him.

If he wants pleasure, I’ll satiate him.

If he needs death, I’ll kill for him.

There are no nightmares. It’sjust a peaceful, warm darkness in which I wake from, greeted by another lack of light in consciousness.

There’s only a dim glow pouring in from the hallway but none coming through the one window in Stone’s bedroom. It could be because of the blackout curtains or because it’s not yet morning. Considering I’m at Stone’s apartment instead of my own, I hope it’s the latter.

And then it hits me.

I’m in Stone’s apartment. I let him fuck me. Hell, I all but begged him to.

I wait for it. For the panic. For the freak out. For the fight or flight response to kick in.

It doesn’t come.

My ass is sore, but it’s a good kind of sore.

Stone’s chest steadily rises and falls beneath my head where it rests. The heat from our bodies has built us a warm cocoonbeneath the dark blue sheets. I want nothing more than to stay put, but I really need to piss.

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