Page 28 of Pose for Me

A gurgling sound escapes his lips as he is jerked back further by the person behind him. The attacker is then pushed toward the opposite wall of the alleyway where he almost hits the dumpster there, before his legs give out and he crumples to the ground in a heap beside it. Twitching, gasping, drowning in his own blood.

I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't process what I'm seeing. My mind reels, unable to make sense of how quickly everything changed. One moment I was staring down the barrel of a gun, the next...

I’m staring at a completely different man, holding a blood stained knife up to the light. The black gloves on his hands almost blend seamlessly with the perfectly tailored black shirt and pants.

River.

But how is he here? How did he know I needed saving? How is it those black gloves on this man look so fucking hot?

“Were you… following me?” The question is barely a breath as I try to steady myself, my heart still racing in my chest.

He grins, that dark, dangerous grin as he steps over the body at our feet. His blue eyes glint with something wicked, and he brings the tip of the bloody knife to my throat, resting it there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. "Aww, so you really didn’t notice?" His voice is taunting, mocking. "I was beingverymindful… very demure."

A shocked, breathless laugh slips out before I can stop it, and he raises a brow, his grin widening as his gaze flickers over me, devouring every reaction. His empty hand presses just below where the knife sits, his fingers a firm, possessive weight on my skin, stealing the breath from my lungs.

River’s eyes gleam with a dark satisfaction as he watches me, his hand pressed firmly against my chest, feeling the rapid, unsteady beat of my heart beneath his palm. “You feel that?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “That rush? The way the blood’s pumping inside you? That’s you feeling alive.”

A shiver courses down my spine, and his hand trails slowly down my body, fingers grazing the curve of my breast before his palm cups and squeezes, coaxing a moan unbidden from deep within me. He chuckles darkly, noting my reaction. “Not crying... Not screaming,” he observes, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at me.

“Should I be?” I manage to ask, my voice soft but steady, and he laughs softly, a sound that’s both a little shocked and admiring.

“That would be the ‘normal’ response to what just happened,” he murmurs, fingers curling into the material of my dress, tugging it higher, inch by inch. The air against my skin feels electric, each bit of fabric that rises sending a wave of heat curling low in my body. The edge of the knife still presses against my skin, and I can’t help but wonder if the blood from my would-be attacker has smeared onto my throat. I shudder at the thought, a thrill running through me.

River’s fingers reach my underwear, pushing them aside, sliding his fingers along my folds. His touch is rough and deliberate, the feel of the leather glove on his hand harsh against my skin and I can’t suppress the groan that escapes me, mingling with his own as his fingers move. His leg nudges mine apart, keeping my dress raised, leaving me bare to him. He pulls his fingers back and brings them to his mouth, eyes locked onto mine as he licks them clean, his gaze smoldering. The sight of it makes my blood feel like it’s on fire, heat pooling low and sharp in my body. I vaguely wonder if I taste good mixed with the leather of his glove.

"All that… just for me?" His voice is almost mocking, and his eyes glitter with dark satisfaction. "Watching me kill that man… did that turn you on?"

I can’t respond. My throat is too dry, my words lost, all I can do is moan for him. I watch him, pulse pounding in anticipation. His carribean eyes look deep into mine, and whatever he sees there…

“Fuck it,” he growls, his movements growing more frantic, his gaze primal. He drops the knife with a metallic clink before spinning me around. He presses me against the wall, his gloved hands rough as he positions me exactly where he wants, dragging my hips back until I almost stumble over the legs of the dead man on the ground. I brace my hands against the brick wall, the rough surface scratching against my skin. His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls my dress up again, higher this time, until the fabric pools around my waist. A low, growl fills the air as he kicks my feet apart.

I hear the clink of a belt and then the sound of his zipper, the anticipation making my body ache. The blunt head of his cock presses at my entrance, stretching me as he pushes in. His hand moves up to wrap around my throat, and the moan that escapes me this time is as raw as it is shameless.

River’s thrusts are rough, his pace unforgiving, and it only makes my pulse race harder, my body pushing back against him despite the madness of it all. His hand tightens around my throat, not enough to cut off my air, just enough to feel the steady thrum of my pulse under his fingers.

He leans close, his mouth at my ear, his voice a low, dark growl. “I would kill anyone who threatens you,” he murmurs, every word dripping with a terrifying sincerity. “If you want to watch next time… if you want to help… all you have to do is ask.” His voice trails off into a sinister chuckle as his grip on me tightens, his other hand sliding up, pushing my dress further up my body. “Hell, I’d fuck you in their still-warm blood if you wanted.”

The words should chill me, but instead, they burn, stoking a dark, hidden part of my soul that craves that reckless, almost sick level of possession. It’s as if his brutal promises speak to something twisted and raw deep inside me, something I can’t ignore, even if I want to. I gasp, and he must sense it, his fingers curling harder around my throat.

I’m barely able to breathe, but somehow I manage, “And… what about Knox?” The name slips from my lips, almost a whisper, as I wonder if the other man shares this same intensity, this same violent hunger.

River chuckles, his fingers pressing down harder. “Don’t let that alpha act fool you,” he murmurs. “Knox would slit the throat of anyone who so much as breathes too close to you.” He thrusts harder, his hips slamming against mine, his voice a dangerous promise in my ear. “You’re ours now. Do you understand?”

Another groan tears from my throat, as my mind stumbles over his words, over the implications. “I’m no one… and you only just met me,” I manage, a desperate attempt to cling to reason, but he scoffs, his grip on me unwavering.

“Do you really think the photoshoot was the first time we saw you?” His laughter is almost mocking. “You have no idea how much we know about you, how long we’ve watched you… from a distance, waiting for the right moment.”

River's words send shockwaves through me, but before I can even process their meaning, his thrusts become more frantic, more animalistic. His grip on my throat tightens, cutting off my air supply completely. Stars dance at the edges of my vision as he pounds into me relentlessly, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing obscenely in the alley.

His free hand snakes around to my front, gloved fingers finding my clit with unerring accuracy. He rubs furious circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the dual stimulation overwhelming my senses. My lungs burn for air, my body trembling on the precipice of something earth-shattering.

River's breath is hot against my ear, his words a feral growl. "Come for me, Rayne. Show me how much you love this. How much you need it."

The world narrows to a pinpoint of sensation–the rough brick scraping my palms, the fullness of him inside me, the pressure of his fingers on my throat and clit. My body obeys his command, convulsing violently as waves of pleasure crash over me. My vision goes white, mouth open in a silent scream as an intense orgasm rips through me.

Just as the edges of my consciousness start to blur, River releases his grip on my throat. Air rushes into my lungs in a desperate gasp, the sudden influx of oxygen intensifying every sensation tenfold. My inner walls clench and flutter around him as aftershocks roll through me.

River doesn't slow his pace, fucking me through my orgasm with savage ferocity. His fingers dig bruisingly into my hips as he chases his own release. I feel boneless, utterly at his mercy as he uses my body for his pleasure.

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