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I’ve got no interest in drawing it out. I want it to come hard and fast, and my body obliges, balls pulling up heavy and tight as everything that’s pent up inside me prepares to unleash.
I pump my cock harder. Faster. Almost brutally. I hiss from the friction, welcoming it. I want to strip myself raw. Strip away those fucking feelings. Make my dick forget the feel of all that soft, plush, perfect I found inside Riley’s sweet little body.
But fuck, I can’t. I’m never going to forget it. The feel of her is burned into my fucking soul now.
I curse and let my hand slow, sliding up and down my cock as images from last night flicker behind my closed eyelids. I twist my palm over my cockhead, sending a delicious shudder up my spine, and tighten my grip, trying to chase what it felt like to be inside her.
I’ve never had any use for religion and don’t believe in any power higher than my own, but goddamn. Riley’s pussy? It could almost make me a believer. It’s the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever found, and something I didn’t even realize I was craving until I was finally balls-deep inside her.
She’s the perfect mix of softness and strength, temptation and torment, and I still want to break her… but that’s not the memory that sends me over the edge.
I grit my teeth and turn toward the wall, pressing one hand flat against the tile as I lean into it and pump myself faster. My skin practically sizzles, the water so fucking hot it’s gotta be stripping off the top layer and cooking whatever’s left, but it’s got nothing on the heat that explodes in my groin when I picture Riley the way she was last night, at the end.
Not when she was gasping out my name.
Not when she was clenching that perfect fucking pussy of hers around my cock as she shattered yet again for me.
“Jesus fuck,” I hiss, my hand flying as I picture the moment after that. The moment she should have been soft and spent and pliant, completely fucked into submission.
But instead, she’d had fury flashing in her eyes. She’d scrambled for my gun. Raised it fearlessly, with trembling hands but rock-solid determination. Pointed it right at my head as my cum trickled down her thighs, and then pulled the—
“Fuck, fuck,fuck,” I shout, spilling over my hand with a tortured groan as my release slams into me without any warning, hitting me just as hard and fast as that bullet had.
I slap the tile, coming hard enough that I need a minute. It’s not as good as coming inside her, but it’s pretty damn close. Eventually, the aftershocks fade away, and I mutter another quiet curse, resting my forehead against the wet tile. My shoulder well and truly aches now, I’ve got no doubt I’ve fucked up Logan’s stitches, and every inch of my skin is painfully red from the torturous temperature of the water still beating down on me.
And every bit of that pain serves me right, but I’d still do it again. Fuck, I’d doheragain, even if it meant taking another bullet.
Or maybe… especially if it meant taking another bullet.
A truly fucked-up thought that I do my best to drown in a glass of whiskey once I get out of the shower.
But just like everything else about Riley, it’s too fucking stubborn to let go, and when I finally give in and lie down to catch some shut eye, my last thought is of her.
And so are my goddamn dreams.
7
RILEY
Listeningto the faint sounds of the men moving around the house as I wait for them to quiet, hopefully for everyone to finally go to sleep, is an awful kind of déjà vu. Of course, last time I did this Chloe was at my back, and I wasn’t cuffed to the bed.
Fuck. I can’t believe we actually rescued her, and less than twenty-four hours later, she was lost to me again.
Not for long, though. I’m going to get out of this fucking prison, and I won’t look back.
I need to find her.
I hear footsteps out in the hall and force my body to relax, feigning sleep. My eyes stay cracked open, though. Just enough to allow me to watch my door in the moonlight.
It doesn’t open, and whoever just passed by keeps on going.
I wait another few minutes, but it’s truly silent now. I was worried that one of the guys would come in here tonight, that Maddoc would assign someone to watch over me the way Dante did last night, but when I crane my neck to see the clock, it’s after two in the morning.
Since I haven’t seen any of them since Logan brought me back up here, I think that means I’m safe.
A crazed kind of laughter suddenly bubbles up, feeling like it comes from my very soul and threatening to spill out of my throat and bring the kind of attention I can’t afford right now.
I stifle it, and panic swells in its wake.
