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Shewon’t affect me.
I won’t allow it.
For a moment, I want to curse Maddoc. Riley is fully clothed, but thanks to his strip search of her when she first arrived, my mind has no trouble at all conjuring exactly what her lithe body looks like naked.
“Shit,” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled. “Oh,shit.”
Her fingers move faster and faster, soft, urgent noises spilling from her lips. She’s about to come, and my own lips pull back in a furious snarl as I rip my zipper down and drag my cock out, the tip already slick and the shaft hard and swollen.
The touch of my own hand is electrifying, and I lurch forward, leaning one hand on the desk my computer sits on while I grip my cock with the other, dragging my palm up the throbbing shaft as stars explode behind my eyes.
This isn’t right. I don’t fucking do things like this. I barely jerk off at all, and never with the kind of burning, primitive drive that rages through me as I watch Riley gasp and arch her back, her body moving with an unconscious sensuality that pushes me past the breaking point.
I grit my teeth and fuck into my fist hard and fast, my eyes locked onto the screen. She’s close. Cresting. Teetering on the edge of climax and then biting her lip to muffle her soft cry as she comes.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,fuck.” The word rips out of my throat in a continuous stream as white-hot bliss spills down my spine and gathers behind my balls, then, with one last stroke, erupts from my cock.
I drive through my fist again and again, milking every drop as my entire body shudders.
All the tension drains from Riley’s body as she sags against the door, dark lashes resting on her cheeks and her lithe body looking just as boneless as mine feels. For a single, endless moment, there really is no distance between the two of us, and everything else fades into meaninglessness as I watch her through the screen.
Then she sighs and pushes away from the door, her shoulders tightening up again and a frown settling back over her face, and reality comes rushing back at me like a brutal explosion of shrapnel.
My hand is sticky, my pants and desk both spattered with my cum.
What the fuck did I just do?
22
RILEY
The minuteI come down from the high of the orgasm, my head feels a little more clear. I’ve never come that hard from just my own hand—it usually takes a tongue or a vibrator to get me off like that—and I hate that it’s because I was so turned on from watching Maddoc.
It’s a little early for bed, but since there’s no way in hell I’m going back downstairs in search of a late dinner, I push away from the door and dig through the bag of clothes to find something to sleep in. Trying to ignore the riot of thoughts and emotions churning through my head, I strip off my clothes and throw on a cami and a pair of soft cotton shorts.
I dart down the hall to brush my teeth and splash some cold water on my face, then slip back into my room. I’m a little hungry, but I’ll just have to eat in the morning.
And if that girl is still here in the morning, maybe I’ll make Dante take me out for breakfast again. I don’t know if I could handle looking her in the eye.
Grimacing at that thought, I turn off the light, then pull the covers back and crawl beneath the sheets, letting the cool linen soothe my flushed skin.
The spike of adrenaline when I walked in on Maddoc and that girl, followed by the intensity of the climax I just gave myself, has left me feeling boneless and exhausted as it all starts to ebb away. Despite the jumble of contradictory thoughts racing through my mind, sleep pulls me under surprisingly fast.
* * *
My eyes popopen in the darkness, consciousness rushing back in quickly.
For a moment, I’m disoriented, unsure what it was that woke me. But then I hear the quiet, controlled sound of breathing—someoneelse’sbreathing—and my heart lurches in my chest.
The mattress dips as someone climbs onto the bed with me, a shadow moving in the darkness.
My first instinct is to lash out, but before I can, something cold touches my skin, pressing against my throat.
A knife.
The dark shape of a man hovers above me, and as my eyes adjust to the low light, I realize I can make out enough of the features of the sculpted, angular face.
It’s Logan.
