Page 76 of Riot Rules
“Dash. I—fuck,please.”
“Please?” he murmurs. “Are you begging for my dick like a good girl?”
“Yes.Yes!”
He demonstrates his approval by biting my neck, his teeth tugging at my skin just hard enough to tightrope walk the boundary between pleasure and pain. “You’re gonna have to be patient just a little longer, love.” He licks where he’s just bitten, purring in my ear. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. You can take it.”
He has more faith in me than I have in myself. I feel like I’m under too much strain and I’m coming apart at the seams. If he doesn’t flip me over and fuck the living shit out of me in the next sixty seconds, I can’t be held accountable for the brazen, filthy things I will do next. I’ll crawl for him. I’ll do anything he asks, give him anything he asks, so long as he gives me what Ineedin return.
Dash’s hand keeps moving beneath my panties. I watch him touch me, heat spiraling around in my body, building between my legs. He releases his grip on me just long enough to roughly pull my t-shirt up and yank it unceremoniously over my head. I let him do it. I’ll let him do whatever he wants to me. I’m his plaything, his toy, and I’ve never been happier about surrendering control.
He pulls me back against his chest again, so that I’m lying in the cradle of his body, held by him, surrounded by him as he strokes his free hand over my skin. My stomach; my hips; my thighs; my breasts: Dash moves from one to the next, leaving a trail of fire behind him as he goes. I’m cold with so much skin bare, but the warmth of Dash’s hands heats me from the inside out.
“I want my come on these tits,” Dash rumbles. “I want it painted on your thighs. I want your pussy slick with it, so I know that you’re mine.”
My eyes roll back into my head when he quickens the pace with the circles that he’s drawing on my clitoris. The mounting waves of pleasure that are starting to crash through me grow more and more intense with every second, and my hips act of their own accord, rolling, rocking, rising up to meet his hand, begging for more friction.
“Hmm.” Dash laughs darkly. “You wanna take it for yourself, love? Wanna use my hand to make yourself come?”
I nod dumbly. It’s all I’m capable of. Dash kisses me roughly against the side of my head. “Okay, sweetheart. Fuck my hand. I’ll watch you while you work.”
I’m a mindless creature, desperate for release. It’s not just the pressure of wanting and needing Dash that’s been building up inside of me, creating a backlog of emotion. It’s everything that went down at the party. It’s everything that happened when I was a child. It’s Mara, running away and leaving us all worried for days. It’s Alderman, and everything that’sexpectedof me. It’s Fitz, and Wren, and Pax, and my own crippling self-doubt. The force of pressure that’s been building inside of me has been accumulating for years, now, and I’m so frustrated that the release I feel coming is exactly what I need.
I roll my hips, clinging to Dash’s arm, and his mouth opens slightly, his teeth pressing into his bottom lip.Sucha turn on, watching him bite his own lip. He’s so damn hot, I can’t bear it. His eyes are full of sin. He watches me, and I watch him do it. His eyes are unfocused, his breathing uneven, hitching in and out of him. It won’t be long now. I can feel it—the hot, tight pressure building between my legs, rising into my core. I’ll come soon, with his fingers inside me and the heel of his palm working against my clit, and the whole world will implode.
Dash palms my breast, his dazed, lust-filled expression making him look almost sleepy. “Fuck.” I see the shape of the word on his mouth, and a body-wide shiver rips through me. God, this is…it’s…
I rock against his hand, my pace quickening, and Dash lets out a raw, pained groan. “Fuck, I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to.” Quick as lightning, he shifts from behind me, and then his pants are shoved down over his hips, and he’s settling himself between my legs, and then he’s—oh—holy shit, he’s pushing inside me.
He’s so damnthick. I’m full of him, still stretching to accommodate the size of him when he begins to rock against me. “Jesus,fuck, Carrie,” he snarls. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He braces himself, one arm on either side of my head, and he holds me in place, kissing me deeply while he fucks me. The weight of him. The smell of him. His breathless whispering in my ear. The faint saltiness of his sweat on my tongue. The very sight of him, his powerful muscles shifting under beautiful, tanned skin. God, he overwhelms every sense I have, rendering me incapable of registering anything other than him.
When I come, I cling to him, and it’s all too much. I’m so overcome by him and the emotion swelling within me, that I weirdly feel like I’m about to burst into tears. Or laugh. I don’t even know how I’m going to react; I’m too scared to even breathe.
Dash tightens his arms around me, his body tensing as he comes, too. “God,Stella. Hold on.” He thrusts deep and hard, gritting his teeth, and my climax intensifies three-fold. He growls as he fucks me, his fingers gouging into my skin, his teeth finding the hollow at my neck, and my vision strobes.
The come down is just as sweet as the ascent. I feel like I’m floating, drifting, sinking down into the mattress. Dash rests on top of me for a moment, catching his breath, and the two of us justbe.
These are the moments I live for. These blissful silences, entangled in the dark, feed my soul in a way I never imagined possible. After a while, Dash props himself up on one elbow, shifting so he can look down at me. He brushes my sweat damp curls out of my face, humming quietly. He traces his fingertips over my forehead, down my temple, down the bridge of my nose. And then, very softly, he says, “I’d like to tell you something.”
My pulse kicks up a gear. “Is it important?”
He smiles a small smile, his voice very quiet. “Terribly.”
“Then I suppose you’d better go ahead.”
His hand rests gently against my neck, his thumb stroking reverently along the line of my jaw.“I am so in love with you, Carina Mendoza. I feel like I might die.”
32
DASH
I love you,too.
I don’t deserve the words, but she gives them to me anyway. We talk about things we should have talked about a long time ago.“I was thinking…I was hoping that you might want to come with me? To England? If you don’t wanna go to Oxford, then there are plenty of other amazing places to study. And I know the weather’s shit and the food’s even worse, but—”I searched her face.“It’s beautiful, too. There are some really special places that I’d love to show you. And Europe’s right there. Do you have any idea how easy it is to catch a train from London to Paris?”
She’d just stared at me, dumbfounded.
“Say something. I’m breaking out into a nervous sweat over here. Would that be okay with you? Would you come? The visa thing wouldn’t be an issue. And you’re so smart. There’s no way you wouldn’t get in—”
