Page 68 of Riot House
I used to know exactly who I was—someone who’d make the right call when faced with temptation. I’m only realizing now that I’ve never truly been tempted before. It was easy to walk away from parties, and booze, and cute boys when I was back in Tel Aviv. My father made it easy. The promise of a hot and heavy make out session with a guy I liked couldn’t compare to the never-ending world of shit I’d be in if my father found out. But Wren…fuck, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want Wren. And no matter how stupid it is, I’d risk everything to have him.
He grabs his dick, too, groping squeezing himself with both hands now, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he approaches the bed. “Since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re disinclined to beg, I’m gonna need you to tell me what you want out of this situation.”
My heart trips and topples over the edge of a forty-foot cliff, taking my stomach with it. “Probably more than you have to give,” I admit in a timid voice.
He seems intrigued by that. “You’re not talking about my body. You’re talking about something else.”
I’m frayed, coming apart at the seams. I’m aching and burning for him so fucking badly that I don’t even know what I want anymore.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says, the words dark and full of gravel, promising pain untold. “There’s only so much of me a person can take before it starts to hurt, Little E. And no, I am not talking about my dick.” He smirks ruthlessly. “My heart’s a grenade. It’s safer where it is, locked in its cage. You take it outta there and you’re essentially pulling the pin.”
“What happens then?” I’m shaking all over.
Wren’s reached the bottom of the bed. He lets go of his straining erection and places his hands on my ankles, curling his fingers around them tightly. “I don’t know. No one’s ever tried.”
He drags me toward him by my feet and claims me as his prize.
23
WREN
Christmas Morning.
Wren Jacobi, a tender six-year-old boy, sat down next to his twin sister and waited eagerly to open his presents. At seven, eight, nine, and ten, he did the same, heart beating out of his chest, unable to contain the excitement at what delights he might find inside the stacks of colorfully wrapped and ribboned gifts that awaited him.
All of those Christmases combined don’t even come close to the excitement I feel now, as I pull Elodie down the mattress toward me. I’m no longer a naïve little boy, filled with juvenile anticipation over a box of Legos. No, now I’m far more interested in taking thingsapartthan putting them together, and Elodie promises to be the most precious gift of all.
The part of me that took that photo of her from Harcourt’s desk—the very same part of me that relished the prospect of breaking her heart and making her cry—rears its ugly head, making all sorts of vile commands. My dick strains harder, and my blood roars through my veins, an unstoppable, deadly tidal wave…but I close a fist around that dark shadow, banishing it from my mind. Wren from three weeks ago would have already figured out what cruel, cold thing he was going to say to Elodie once he’d had his fill of her tonight, but now I’m left scrambling, turned around and unsure what the fuck I’m going to do once this is over.
I won’t shatter her, though. I’ll make her fall to pieces in my arms, and I’ll watch her splinter apart as she comes. After that, who knows what the fuck comes next. Anyone’s guess is as good as mine.
Her eyelashes flutter like butterfly’s wings as she looks up at me, her winter-blue eyes full of desire and panic. Her tongue darts out wetting her bottom lip, and I beat back a snarl at the sight of it. “Answer me, E. What do you want? How far do you want this to go?”
Mrs. Hopkins, our hapless statistics teacher, drew the short straw the day the students of Wolf Hall had to be given the wholeconsenttalk. She’d be proud as hell of me right now. ‘Boys, I know you’re all far too young to be thinking about sex yet(hah de fucking hah)but you must always make sure you that your lady friend consents to your advances. If you don’t hear a clear yes from her, then always better to assume that, uh, it’s ano.’Her pride would be misplaced, though. I’m not asking for Elodie’s consent. She already gave it, the moment she announced she was coming up to my fucking room in front of Pax and Dash. No, I want to know just how filthy my precious Little E is gonna let me be.
She wriggles, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her toes curling against the flat of my stomach. God, I want to bite her. I want to fucking consume her. I want to take all of that beautiful blonde hair and wrap it around my fist as I drive her mouth down as deep as she can go onto my cock. Her eyes shutter, like she has a window into my depraved, debauched mind, and what she sees through it is making her unravel. “You know what I want,” she says.
Ahhh, poor Little E needs to loosen up that tongue of hers. I have a few tricks up my sleeve that should grease those gears. One step at a time, though. Still holding both her ankles, I spread her legs apart, holding her feet on either side of my thighs. The taut cord inside me—what passes for my patience—pulls even tighter, threatening to snap, when I see the damp patch of silk in between her legs. Her pussy’s already wet enough to have soaked through her panties. “Oh,E.”
She squirms, two twin patches of color burning high on her cheek bones, trying to close her legs at the knee, but I jerk roughly on her ankles, slowly shaking my head. “Don’t. You didn’t fucking come here to hide yourself from me. You know you didn’t. Don’t you want me to taste your cunt?” I’m straight forward. To the point. Her cheeks flame even redder, and that twisted, wicked part of me crows.
“Yes,” she says quietly. “I do.”
“Good. You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to fuck you with this?” I ask, grabbing hold of my cock.
She shudders, goosebumps forming underneath my palms, covering her legs and the flat, toned stomach she’s been hiding under those massive, stupid fucking t-shirts she wears. I watch, fascinated beyond belief, as she nods her head. “Yes.”
“You want me to come inside you? You want to feel my dick getting harder as I get closer and closer?”
“Yes.” Now that she’s admitted that she wants my cock, the word comes out a little easier; poor girl probably thinks that’s the hardest thing I’m gonna make her admit to. I haven’t even gotten started.
“Take your bra off,” I command. “Panties, too. Put them on the nightstand.”
She hesitates for a second, pulling in a deep breath through her nose.
