Page 46 of Riot's Thorn
He dips down to kiss me, no tongue this time. “I can taste your fear. It turns me on.”
“You want me to be afraid?”
“Fuck yes,” he growls, nipping my ear lobe. “But I haven’t hurt you yet, and I promised to make this good.”
So many emotions war inside me, and I can’t think straight when he’s grinding his cock against me. He’s so close, all it would take is him pulling back just a little, and then he’d be right there, and I wouldn’t be a virgin anymore. I’d finally know whatall my friends go on and on about, and for some reason I can’t even fathom, I do trust he won’t hurt me.
“Do it,” I say.
It’s all the permission he needs before he removes my glasses, placing them on the nightstand, and kneels in front of me with his cock in hand. His muscular thighs are spread, and my legs are hiked on top of them. I reach above my head and grab the metal bars of the headboard, needing something to ground me to this moment. It feels so surreal.
“I can’t wait to feel this fuckin’ pussy wrapped around me. You’ll have me blowing in seconds like a teenage boy, I just know it.”
Why that makes me feel good is anyone’s guess, but I hope he’s not serious because I think it’ll take me longer than that to have another orgasm. If I’m going to let a serial killer take my virginity, I better get an orgasm out of it.
He teases the head of his dick at my entrance, rubbing it up and down. My sex clenches in anticipation, releasing another wave of arousal. With one short thrust, his head, piercings and all, is inside me. The stretch is almost painful, making me hiss and pull on the bars until I’m white-knuckling them, but he grips my hips, keeping me in place and not allowing me to escape.
“You’re okay.” It’s a statement, not a question, which is curious because how would he know? “Need to move, baby. You with me?”
I nod, and with slow thrusts, he works his way deeper and deeper. From what I can tell, he has four bars around the head of his penis with stainless steel balls on each end, which means I’m being internally massaged in every direction. The sensations are overwhelming, to say the least. My head swims with it all, trying to distinguish pain, pressure, and pleasure, but they all blur together.
“You’re taking me so good. I’m proud of you, Little Thorn.” He pulls out nearly all the way before pushing back in, faster this time.
“Oh, shit,” I curse. Each time he pushes in, those balls hit a place inside that has me wanting more.
“Fuck, I wish you could see this. My cock is covered in your cum and some blood, mixing together to make the most beautiful shade of pink.” He reaches between us, and I feel his finger circle around where we’re joined before bringing that finger to his mouth and sucking.He licked my blood and arousal off his finger. Is this man okay? And why did that turn me on even more? I must be just as messed up as he is. Between thrusts, he reaches down again, collecting more. “You want a taste?”
“No.”Yes. I can’t say that, though. It’s so wrong, so disgusting. Right?
“Yes, you do. Open your mouth.”
“No,” I scoff.
“Open your goddamn mouth, or I’ll flip you over and spank you. Then I’ll come all over your reddened ass and leave you wanting.”
Holy shit. Did he really just say that? He’s definitely not the insecure loner who hides in a corner with his rats right now. This guy is confident and kinky.
I have to think about what he just said because being spanked and having him cover my sore cheeks with his essence sounds pretty hot. Oh, god. Forget about Riot being different in bed; I don’t even recognize myself right now.
Since I really don’t want him to pull out, slightly less than I want his hand on my butt, I open my mouth the smallest amount.
He pushes inside me so deep, his balls slap against my ass, and he holds himself there so he can lean over me. And whenhe sucks his finger into his mouth, I feel a little disappointed—until he pinches my cheeks so hard, I have no choice but to open wider, and he spits into my mouth.
He. Spits. Into. My. Mouth.
“Riot,” I whine, pulling out of his hold. But then his lips are on mine, his tongue is tangled with my own, and our tastes swirl around, becoming one.
The small world I’ve lived in, where my clothing, language, and behavior are expected to be “proper,” screams at me to reject this depravity, but Riot’s right. It’s only me and him here; I don’t have to be anything but who I want to be with him. And that was the most erotic experience of my life. I want more.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he says.
“Now? You haven’t been?”
“Not properly.” He leans back on his haunches, his muscles tensing as he grips my hips in a firm, resolute hold. His fingers dig into my skin, sending a ripple of anticipation through my body, and with powerful, rhythmic thrusts, he drives himself so deeply within me, my vision blurs with a burst of stars. The intensity of his movements is overwhelming, and it takes only moments before I’m free-falling into another uncontrollable orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I scream each time he drives into me. Then his thumb presses against my clit, and I detonate to another dimension—or at least that’s what it feels like.
“That’s it,” Riot says through gritted teeth. “Milk my cock. Be my slut.”
