Vipers and Virtuosos (Monsters & Muses, #2)(84)
My dick jerks in my palm, and I consider lying. I want to lie, so she doesn’t get the wrong idea.
But when I open my mouth to speak, the truth is what comes out.
“Two total.” My fingers flex around my shaft, and I grit out, “Only one that mattered.”
And none in our time apart.
The confession hangs between us, heavy with the weight of its implication.
I don’t wait for her to process, or say anything else; with a quick shunt of my hips, I sheath myself as deep inside her as I can go, turning her head so I can drink up the ensuing scream that tears from her chest.
Already, I can feel my orgasm teasing my spine, within reach if I’m not careful. Breaking our kiss, I piston into her, glancing down to watch as my cock splits her apart.
“Oh, god,” she pants, fingers scraping against the wall with each of my thrusts. “Please, Aiden, please.”
My vision slackens as she begs, scratching that impossible itch inside of me. I fuck her harder, the lewd sounds of her arousal coupling with the soft slapping of flesh, filling the air with an erotic quality I feel in my bones.
Tugging at the neckline of her dress with one hand, I dip my head and suction my lips where her neck meets her shoulder. Her inner walls flutter, and she moans that she’s close, she’s so fucking close, only stopping when I shove three fingers into her mouth.
The control I’m barely holding on to slips away as she gurgles around them, her throat convulsing in time with the gagging sounds she’s making.
When I pull back, another bruise is already starting to mark her skin. “Goddamn, you’re such a good girl, taking me at both ends. You look fucking perfect getting stuffed full like this.”
A delighted sob wrenches from her as she retches, eyes watering from how deeply seated my knuckles are, and I watch them leak the second her orgasm begins to wash over her.
“I know, pretty girl. Fuck, I know. Feels so goddamn good to be fucked, doesn’t it? To be owned?” I’m losing it, losing the last vestiges of my sanity as they break off and evaporate into her soul. “Take it, Riley. Own me. Claim me right back, and make me blow inside this sweet, filthy cunt.”
Rocking her hips back, Riley chases that release; mine charges like a bullet, ripping through muscle and cartilage. With one final, brutal thrust, I bottom out, hot cum spurting in short bursts, painting and tainting her insides.
A full-body shudder rolls over her, and she follows violently, beautifully, squeezing me so tight that I see stars for a moment. When she’s finished, she sags into my arms; I dislodge my hand from her mouth and steady her against the wall, running my fingers down her back in languid strokes.
Her head lifts, and she looks so positively fucked, so thoroughly mine, with her tear-stained cheeks and those glistening sapphire eyes, that I can’t help but kiss her again.
And again.
And again.
In that moment, out of all the others, I realize it’s not insanity that drives me to be stupid and reckless with her. It’s not insanity that brought me to Lunar Cove in the first place.
It’s obsession.
Addiction.
I’m a fucking addict.
A fiend for this pink-haired angel.
Unfortunately, for that affliction, there is no cure. Only abstinence, or indulgence, and I’d sooner give up my life as I know it than go a single day further without being able to taste her.
After a few moments of silence wherein we collect ourselves, we straighten on our feet and fix our clothing. My hand slides between her legs, finding the mixture of our pleasure as it seeps from her.
I dip a finger in, swirling the mess around her clit, then back over her entrance and past her asshole. “There,” I say, withdrawing and bringing the finger to my mouth, licking it clean. “In case you ever get the idea again that you’re somehow not my business. Let the cum drying on parts of you that only I get to see be a reminder.”
Her face flushes a deep fuchsia color as she rights her dress, then creeps over to the door. “God, what if he stayed for all of that?”
“Then he’s a pervert, and now he knows the score.”
She shoots me a dirty look. “He already knew the score, Aiden. You’re just an asshole.”
I don’t deny it—can’t, anyway—as she unlocks the door and goes to pull it open.
“Uh,” she says slowly, pulling on the brass doorknob. “It’s stuck?”
“Are you asking or telling me?”
She jiggles the metal, trying to turn it with no luck. “Oh, my god! We’re locked in!”
“No, we’re not. It just needs a little extra elbow grease.” Gently moving her out of the way, I wrap my fingers around the knob and twist as hard as I can.
Nothing happens.
Furrowing my brows, I try to turn it again, and still nothing happens. Bracing one hand against the frame, I lodge my foot into the wall and pull; it creaks on its hinges, but otherwise stays put.
“What the fuck?” I huff, my fist colliding with the wood. “Open up, you fucker.”
“God, I knew this was a bad idea.” Riley’s fists join mine, beating furiously. “Caleb! Open the fucking door!”
Silence comes from the other side, and confusion laces my nerves, putting me on edge.
Riley continues pounding, screeching at her friend and kicking with all her might. I back away, glancing at the small crack between the floor and the bottom of the door; crouching down, I flatten my palms on the tile and turn my head, looking for signs of movement outside.