Page 74 of Blood & Throttle
“I’m yours.”
He snarls like an animal and sinks his teeth into my neck, not gentle.Claiming. Sharp. The kind of bite meant toscar.
His hands grip my ass and slam me down onto him one last time, cock buried deep as he comes hard, pulse after pulse spilling inside me as I clench around him, body jerking in a helpless, ruined climax that knocks the breath from my lungs.
My head falls back against the wall, dazed, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes from the sheer intensity of it.
He holds me there for a long second.
Breathing like he’s been in a warzone.
Because he has.
We both have.
And we lost.
To each other.
Fourteen
Sienna
ILUV by Yet
So.
I fucked Riot Carter.
Let me rephrase that.
Riot Carter fucked me against a wall so hard I’m pretty sure the drywall filed for emotional damages. And judging by the bruises on my hips, the bite on my neck, and the way I still can’t fully straighten my legs, he meant every goddamn second of it.
Not that I’m complaining.
Well… okay, I’m complaining alittle.
Because now?
Now the air between us is heavy. Different.
Like something burned down overnight and neither of us is sure if we should mourn it… or dance in the ashes.
He hasn’t said much this morning.
Just watched me from across the room, leaning against the rusted steel sink in the corner of our warehouse unit, armscrossed like a bouncer to hell. His eyes haven’t left me once. Dark. Focused. Like he’s trying to decide if I’m something he wants to cage or worship.
Maybe both.
My muscles ache as I dress. My shirt clings to sweat and bruises. I wince when the collar brushes my neck, right where his teeth sank in. His mark. A raw, perfect crescent stamped over my pulse.
He notices.
Of course he does.
His jaw flexes like he’s trying to bite back something dangerous. Or maybe he just likes looking at the proof of what he did. What I let him do.
Because he didn’t ask.
