Page 173 of Riot

"Terrified," I admitted.

"Me too." His confession hung between us, raw and honest. Then his mouth found mine again, hungrier this time, like he needed to claim something before the world could take it away.

I melted into him, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling every ridge of muscle, every scar that told a story I was still learning. He lifted me easily, carrying me to our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.

The moonlight painted silver across the sheets as he laid me down, his eyes never leaving mine. There was something different in the way he touched me now - reverent, like I was made of something precious.

"Let me see you," he whispered.

I sat up, pulling my shirt over my head, unhooking my bra. His breath caught as his gaze traveled over me, lingering on my stomach where our future was already growing.

"Beautiful," he murmured, kneeling between my legs. His lips pressed against my belly, a promise sealed with a kiss. "Both of you."

His mouth traveled lower, hands working at my jeans, peeling them away along with everything else until I was bare beneath him. The cool air kissed my skin, but his touch burned hot, fingers tracing patterns that made me arch and gasp.

"Riot," I breathed, reaching for him.

He shed the rest of his clothes, the streetlight catching the ink that decorated his skin, the muscle that rippled with every movement. When he covered my body with his, it felt like coming home.

We moved together slowly, savoring every touch, every kiss, every whispered word. His hands cradled my face as he entered me, both of us shuddering at the connection. This wasn't just sex - it was communion, a sacred thing between two people who'd walked through hell and chosen each other anyway.

"I love you," I gasped against his mouth, the words spilling out unbidden.

He stilled for a moment, eyes searching mine in the darkness. Then he kissed me deep, hips rolling in a rhythm that made stars burst behind my eyelids.

"Say it again," he commanded softly.

"I love you, Riot. I love you."

His control snapped. He gripped my hips, angling deeper, each thrust a vow, each moan a prayer. I wrapped my legs around him, nails digging into his back, holding on as we chased that edge together.

When we fell, we fell as one, my name on his lips, his name on mine, bodies trembling with the force of it.

After, we lay tangled in the sheets, his hand splayed protectively over my stomach. The city hummed outside our window, but in here, in this moment, we were the only two people in the world.

"A baby," he said quietly, wonder creeping into his voice. "Our baby."

"Are you happy?" I asked, suddenly needing to know.

He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. Then he pressed his lips to my shoulder.

"I never thought I'd get this," he said. "A family. Something good. Something mine." His arms tightened around me. "Yeah, baby. I'm happy. Scared as fuck, but happy."

I turned in his arms, studying his face in the dim light. For once, all his walls were down. I saw the boy he must have been before the streets claimed him, before violence became his language. I saw the man he was becoming, for me, for Jasir, for this child growing inside me.

"We're going to figure it out," I promised. "All of it."

He nodded, pulling me closer. "Together."

"Together."

We stayed awake talking in whispers about names, about the future, about fears we'd never voiced before. By the time sleepfinally claimed us, the first hints of dawn were creeping across the sky, painting everything in shades of possibility.

Chapter 59

RIOT

I used to wake up bracing for blood. Now I wake up to a kid drooling on my chest and a woman curled around my future. For the past few weeks, my mornings started with ghosts; Silas, Havoc, my mother, Madeira. Blood on the floor. Regret in my throat. Violence still echoing in the bones I hadn't stopped breaking since I was fifteen.

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