Page 45 of Riot's Thorn
“A vibrator.” A beautiful blush spreads across her chest that creeps higher, making her cheeks rosy.
“Thank you for being brave and telling me that, Little Thorn,” I say, and she grins, pushing her glasses higher up her nose. Hmm, a praise kink? That’ll work in my favor. I kneel before her and give the hair covering her sex a tug. “I like that you’re natural, but I think I’d like to shave you. I think I’d like to keep my pussy nice and tidy.”
“God, Riot,” she groans, not because she wants me to stop but because my words are turning her on.
“Hush. I’ve got you,” I say then dive in, tasting the most delicious pussy I’ve ever had.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
PARKER
Am I really doing this? Am I really going to have sex with the man who murdered my father? That statement is enough to keep a therapist busy for years, but add in the degradation, praise, and him wanting to shave me, and I’ll be taking a grippy sock vacation for years if I ever find a way out of this mess.
If Riot has his way, I’ll be shackled to him forever, never tasting freedom again because he’s practically forced a proposal on me. My gaze darts to the nightstand where I placed Mom’s ring. It taunts me with a future more horrifying than my darkest nightmares could ever conjure.
All concepts of right or wrong, sanity or madness, evaporate as soon as he parts my sex, and before I can even process what’s happening, his mouth is on me—licking, sucking, flicking, penetrating with a ravenous intensity. My body convulses, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. But just as the climax looms, he pulls away, leaving me dizzy with unfulfilled desire. Damn him.
“Fuck, Little Thorn, you’re so wet for me, I think my finger will slide right in.” He slowly pushes in, his eyes heavy withdesire as he observes intently, committing the sensation of me to memory. “How do you think you’ll do with two?”
I swallow hard, feeling incredibly vulnerable. He remains fully dressed while I am not only bare but also positioned with my legs apart, exposing every part of me. Yet, I can’t feel embarrassed when he’s gazing at me as if I’m the sexiest sight he’s ever seen.
“Relax and let me in. My cock is a lot bigger than this, and I need to prepare your body so I can make this good for you.” His tongue dances against my clit, and I gasp, trying to surrender to the pleasure but unable to release the tension that grips my body. As two of his thick fingers slide inside me, I gasp, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. It’s strangely satisfying to have something to hold onto, yet the overwhelming fullness leaves me uncertain.
“Riot,” I moan, my hands instinctually weaving in his hair. He freezes, and I wonder if he’s going to scold me again, but he stays true to his word and allows me the freedom to do whatever feels good. Holy hell, does it feel good to fist his locks and hold him where I need him.
“You taste like heaven, just like I knew you would.” He latches onto my clit and sucks, making my back bow off the mattress as I cry out, powerful tingles taking over from low in my belly. “That’s it. Come for me, just like this.”
And I do. Unfamiliar, primal sounds erupt from my mouth as an overwhelming orgasm tears through my body. It doesn’t arrive in the soft, rolling waves I feel when I’m alone in bed; no, what he does to me is like an unstoppable tidal wave, obliterating all my senses except for touch. It lasts for seconds or maybe hours. I wouldn’t know because I have no sense of time as I give in to the pleasure I never knew existed.
As I return to reality, my sex grows incredibly sensitive, prompting me to push him away and attempt to close my legs.However, Riot is persistent. He keeps his expert tongue on me, wraps his strong arms around my thighs, and hikes my legs over his shoulders. In this position, I can’t pull away, which is clearly what he intended.
“Riot, I can’t. I mean, I already came,” I say, thinking maybe he just didn’t notice.
“Give me one more.”
I squirm. “I can’t. It’s painful.”
“This isn’t pain, Little Thorn.” He reaches up my body and twists my nipple until I cry out. “That’s pain. Push past the sensitivity and give me another.”
I’m second-guessing all my choices when Riot curls his fingers and strokes something deep inside me I’m glad I stuck around for. What isthat? My heart, which had been calming, suddenly races again with this new sensation. Whatever he’s doing is sparking something uncontrollable within me, and since I’m pinned down at his mercy, I have no option but to let it unfold.
“Oh, fuck,” I shout out right before I lose myself completely.
Riding the edge of ecstasy, I grind myself on his face with a desperate need for more. The world fades to black around me, and when I finally snap back to consciousness, I see Riot standing tall, his eyes dark and primal as he unbuckles his belt with deliberate intent. If I hadn’t had the past few days to get to know this intimidating man, the fierce intensity in his gaze would send shivers down my spine. As it is, he still makes me nervous.
He shucks his T-shirt, revealing defined muscles that flex as he continues to undress. His body is a work of art, cut from stone and decorated with tattoos that glisten from a sheen of sweat. When his pants drop to the ground, I’m reminded of when I caught him pleasuring himself. My memory didn’t do him justice. His thick cock, pointing to the right and resting onhis hip, is outlined in his tight black boxer briefs, and I no longer think this is a good idea.
Definitely not going to fit.
His gaze is fixed just above me as he pushes his last article of clothing to the floor and fists himself. Rolling his head back on his shoulders, he strokes himself a few times before closing in on me. His piercings are intimidating, for sure. The stainless-steel balls that make a halo around his circumcised tip make it look mean and not at all pleasant.
“You’re looking at my cock like it’s going to jump out and bite you,” he says, planting his knees on the mattress. “Scoot up to the top of the bed.”
With my back against the cold metal headboard, I pull my knees up to my chest, trying to conceal as much of myself from him as possible. Riot just smiles, or maybe it’s a sneer. Regardless, he moves closer and begins to unwrap me, limb by limb, spreading my legs to make space for himself. Then, a swift pull on my thighs has me flat on the mattress.
He leans over me, holding himself up with an elbow on either side of my head. His cock is pressed against my sex, so much harder than I thought an erection to be. “Did you change your mind, Little Thorn?”
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully.
