Page 109 of Hymns of the Broken

I glance down again to watch him.

His blonde hair is damp with sweat, and histattooed hands are gripping my thighs like he’ll never let go. His eyes flick up to me, and he smirks against me, licking one more time…

And fuck,I shatter. Legs shaking and clamping aroundhishead as my orgasm slams through me, hot and blinding. He doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, sucking, driving me higher until I’m writhing, begging. “Riot, please—too much—fuck!”

Only when I shove at his shoulders, weak and shaking, does he finally stop. His mouth is glistening, lips swollen, and he has a smug look in his eyes. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still kneeling, staring up at me like he’s ready to worship all night. “Told you I was gonna burn myself into you, baby.”

I stare at him, heart still hammering, chest heaving. “I—I can’t feel my legs.”

He laughs, then lightly smacks my pussy twice, making me bite my lip to keep from yelling. “That’s the point, Hellcat.”

Before I can recover, Riot slides his fingers into me with no warning. My hips jolt, and his mouth is right there, ghosting kisses over my inner thigh, teeth grazing the skin before he pulls back and looks up at me through his lashes.

“You taste like sin,” he murmurs, voice wrecked. “And fuck, Sawyer…you sound better moaning for me instead of Jasper.” He crooks his fingers, finding that spot inside me, making my back arch and my toes curl.

“You feel that?” he growls, working his fingers harder, faster, each motion soaking wet and so obscene it makes my eyes flutter shut. “That little flutter around my fingers? That’s you begging for me. Your pussy knows who’s touching her. Knows exactly who she belongs to tonight.”

He leans in, lips tracing fire on my thigh, so close I can feel his words as much as I hear them. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Huh? You gonna let me feel you fall apart on my fucking fingers?”

I whimper, trying to catch my breath, hips rocking with every thrust. I’m so close. So fucking close.

But—something in me snaps. I reach down, grabbing his wrist to keep him still.

He freezes, tension thrumming between us. “I told you, Riot…I’m done waiting.”

His eyes darken, mouth opens, pupils wide. I sit up, breath sawing out of my chest, and grab the hem of his shirt, yanking it up and over his head. He helps barely—he’s too stunned, too wrecked by the way I take control.

His tattoos stand out stark in the lamplight, especially the one that disappears into the waistband of his sweats. That one makes me weak.

His chest heaves as I press my mouth to his chest, licking a slow line across his sternum, then lower—kissing, biting, dragging my teeth down the ridges of his abs. He fists the sheets, holding himself back so hard I hear the fabric strain.

My hand slides down, rubbing him through his sweats, feeling him hot and so hard he’s practically trembling. I look up—our eyes lock, and I see the hunger, the awe, the way he’s letting me drive him wild.

I whisper, “I’m gonna take your cock out, Riot. I want to feel you in my throat.”

He exhales violently, as if he just got punched in the lungs. “Fuck, Sawyer…” he rasps. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

I don’t let him recover. I press him back, my palm splayed on his chest, and I guide him down until his back hits the mattress. He clenches his jaw as I slide off the bed, slow, owning every second.

Riot watches me, lips parted, chest rising with each breath like he’s trying not to explode already.

I reach up and drag the waistband of his sweats down slowly—keeping my eyes locked on his. My nails rake over his thighs, watching the muscles jump. But then—I let myself look.

My gaze drops, and fuck.

His cock springs free, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. The air catches in my throat as I take in every inch like it’s the first time I’ve seen something worth worshiping.

He twitches under my stare, a deep sound rumbling from his chest like I’ve just unhinged something feral inside him.

I take mytime removing his sweats the rest of the way, to drag out the anticipation. Once they’re gone, I crawl up the bed on my hands and knees and settle in between his legs.

I hum, licking my lips like I’m starving. “You’ve been dying for this?” I murmur, eyes on his while teasing the head of his cock with my tongue, swirling it, tasting salt and heat. “Well, so have I. So your turn to watch me.”

I take him into my mouth all the way, throat stretching to take him. The weight of him, the heat, the way he fills my mouth—it’s overwhelming in the best fucking way. He’s thick and smooth, and my tongue slides along the underside like I’m memorizing every ridge and vein.

He groans, head thrown back, a string of curses ripped from his lips.

“Fuck, Sawyer—holy shit—”