Riley's eyes lock on mine as I guide my dick into her soaked entrance. She sinks slowly down around me letting a soft grunt of approval out and when she's settled in place, her lips claim mine again in another searing kiss.
She bottoms out, hips flush to mine, and we both freeze for a second, just breathing hard through the stretch, the burn, the perfect fucking fit. Her walls flutter around me like she’s already close, and I can feel her pulse hammering where we’re joined.
Then she starts to move—slow at first, rolling her hips in a dirty grind that drags her clit over my pelvis and makes my cock jerk inside her. Her hands brace on my shoulders, nails biting crescents into my skin.
“Rafe,” she breathes, voice shaking. “Look at me.”
I already am. I can’t look anywhere else.
She lifts up an inch, drops back down harder this time. The chair creaks under us.
“Tell me again," she pants, and I swear her pussy is going to be the death of me. “Tell me what I am to you,” she demands between thrusts, eyes locked on mine.
I grip her ass, haul her down harder, meet her halfway so the slap is loud and obscene. “You want the truth?”
“Yes.” It cracks out of her like a plea and she shudders as I slam into her back wall. The clench is perfect, the way her tight walls hug me like they were made for me.
I thrust up deep, hold her there, buried to the hilt. “You’re the only thing in this whole fucking mess I don’t wanna lose.”
Her breath hitches, eyes going glassy. “Say it clearer,” she whispers, grinding so slowly it tortures us both.
I slide one hand up her spine, fist her hair, drag her forehead to mine. “You’re not an asset, Riley. I fucking want you."
A broken sound tears out of her throat and she starts riding me in earnest, desperately chasing the words like they’re oxygen. “Again,” she gasps, clenching around me so tight my vision whites out.
“I want you,” I snarl, driving up into her, over and over. “Only you. You're mine.”
She slams down one last time, grinding hard, clit mashed against me, and I feel the first flutter deep inside her. Then it hits.
Her whole body locks up, thighs clamping my hips like iron, back arching so violently her tits are shoved against my face. A sharp, strangled cry rips out of her throat as her pussy clampsdown in brutal pulses, squeezing me in waves so tight it’s almost painful, every spasm dragging a fresh gush of wet heat around my cock.
I can feel her cum dripping down my balls, soaking my thighs, the chair, everything. Her nails rake bloody lines down my shoulders. Her head snaps back, mouth open in a silent scream before the next choked sob tears free. She’s shaking, trembling from her scalp to her toes, walls fluttering again and again and again like she can’t stop.
I’m right there with her.
The second that vise grip hits, my spine snaps tight and the orgasm barrels through me like a freight train. My hips jerk up hard, burying my dick as deep as I can get, and I come with a guttural roar that scrapes my throat raw.
The first pulse is blinding, thick ropes shooting out of me in long, violent spurts, flooding her so full I feel it pulse back around my shaft. My cock kicks inside her again and again, every throb forcing another hot jet deep while her pussy keeps milking me greedily. My vision tunnels, balls drawn up so tight they ache, and the pleasure is so sharp it’s almost agony. I can’t breathe, can’t think, just spill and spill until I’m empty and shaking, arms locked around her like she’s the only thing keeping me on Earth.
We stay like that, fused together, sweat-slick and wrecked, my cock still twitching with aftershocks inside her swollen heat, her body jerking every time another small ripple rolls through her. I drop my forehead to her collarbone, gasping, tasting salt, and I feel the last weak pulse of cum leak out of me as her walls give one final, greedy squeeze.
I'm a foolish man, admitting to something that could be my undoing.
But I won't take it back.
And I won’t give her up.
Riley is mine now, and no one gets a say in the matter. Not even her.
13
RILEY
Ilean against the wall of the stinky service elevator as it rattles its way up to the eighth floor. This is the third time this week Rafe has dragged me to the pharmaceutical offices, and each trip feels more degrading than the last. I'm not allowed to walk through the main lobby. I'm not allowed to take the regular elevators. I get shuttled up and down in this industrial cage like cargo, hidden from view, as if my existence here is something shameful.
I get it. He thinks he's protecting me from his enemies, and maybe he really is, but he's also protecting himself. My face has been plastered all over the news in New York because my parents and that retired state patrolman are really looking for me. He doesn't want me seen by anyone because it would ruin his plans.
The doors grind open, and I step out into the back hallway. Feodor's waiting for me, like he was the last few times I had to make this trip. Rafe is at some meeting across town, coordinating shipments or handling whatever crisis has eruptedtoday. I don't ask anymore. I just sit at his desk, pull out the laptop, and start working through the files he's given me.
