Page 72 of Riot Act
“Ahhh!Fu—!” He grabs me quickly, so roughly, that I don’t even have time to react before he’s shutting off my airway. His naked body roils with heat on top of me. I want to reach out and touch him, but I can’t let myself do that either, so I snatch up handfuls of the bedsheets instead, fisting them and pulling…
“You’re my plaything, aren’t you, Chase?” His lips are so close that they brush against my mouth when he speaks.
One croaked, strangled word. “Ye—yes.”
His eyes are glittering daggers. “And all of this bravado, all of the backtalking and the sass when we’re at the academy? It’s all a show, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t inhale even if I wanted to, but I still find myself holding my breath.
Impatience grips the insanely sexy, tattooed boy lying on top of me. His hand tightens.“Isn’t it?”
I nod, fighting to hold myself still beneath him. For some reason, my eyes are wetter than they should be. I’mnotgoing to cry.
His grasp loosens a little, allowing a tiny trickle of oxygen down the back of my throat, into my lungs. “All right, then,” he says. “Now that you’ve admitted it, we can move on.”
In one smooth motion, Pax thrusts himself into me. No warning. No indication that he’s about to impale me on his dick. There’s only the upward movement, and the sudden, shocking sensation of him filling me up. We both gasp at the same time, and I can seehistruth in his eyes: this feels as good for him as it does for me.
He’s attracted to me.
He’s as turned on by this as I am.
He’s way more stubborn than I am. If I were to confront him the way he just confronted me, he’d never own up to his feelings. That kind of honesty just isn’t a part of his genetic programming.
“God, you’re tight as hell,” he hisses.
And he’s so thick, it’s a strain to accept him into my body at all. His hand withdraws from my neck as he slides his palms down my chest, over my breasts with their peaked, painful nipples, and he comes to a stop at my hips. The pillows under my ass lift me up to such an angle that he is beyond deep; he’s all the way to the fucking hilt.
“Fuck. Fuck, Pax. That’s…that’s so goddamn intense.”
“Breathe,” he commands.
I suck down a giant breath—and he curls his hand around my neck again, fingers digging into my skin, and I shudder against him, my eyes rolling back into my head.
He starts to fuck me, slow at first, withdrawing himself all the way out before pushing himself back into me at a taunting pace. He gradually picks up speed.
This feels…
Overwhelming.
Frightening.
Incredible.
Freeing.
Dangerous.
Stupid.
Perfect.
It’s everything all at once, and I’m so overawed. I hold onto his bed sheets for dear life, watching the muscles in his chest and stomach flex, shift, contract as he starts to slam himself home.
“What’s that look?” he asks. “You like when I’m rough with you, Firebrand?”
Nodding, my eyes fall closed; I can’t fucking look at him. He’s too hot to take. In the darkness behind my eyelids, huge pops and flares of light go off like fireworks. My hands and feet are tingling, but I can’t tell if that’s from the sensations building in between my legs, rippling out from my core, or from the lack of air in my lungs.
“You want my handprints all over your body, Chase?”
