Page 21

I’d never had a lover other than Doug, and he was about as far from a “lover” as he could get.

He was a man who fucked me occasionally.

Nothing more. I’d never experienced sexual arousal before Riot.

I’d never experienced any kind of pleasure during sex.

I’d grown to loathe the thought of anything to do with sex.

Now, I wanted to explore everything I’d been denied, and I wanted to do it in the arms of a man of my choosing. I wanted Riot.

“We don’t have to do this, Violet.” Riot’s voice was rough, strained with the effort of restraint. “Marriage, I mean. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

I shook my head, taking a step toward him. “I know that. But I think I want this. All of it.” My heart hammered in my chest as I closed the distance between us. “I’ve never had a choice before. Not with Doug, not with anything. But I’m choosing you, Quinn.”

His eyes darkened at the sound of his real name on my lips. “Are you sure? Once I have you, I won’t let you go.”

“That’s exactly what I’m counting on.”

With a growl, he pulled me to him, his mouth finding mine a little desperately. This wasn’t the gentle kiss from last night. This was hunger and need and promise all wrapped into one. His tongue demanded entrance and I gave it willingly, meeting his passion with my own awakening desire.

He backed me against the wall, his powerful body pressing against mine. I could feel every hard muscle playing under his skin, the heat of him burning through my clothes. One hand tangled in my hair while the other gripped my hip, holding me steady.

“You deserve better than me,” he murmured against my lips. “But I’m too fuckin’ selfish to walk away.”

“I don’t want better ,” I whispered. “I want you .”

His hand slid from my hip to the small of my back, pulling me closer to him until I felt his hard cock against my stomach.

The sensation sent a thrill through me. Not fear, though.

Anticipation. “Christ, Violet,” he groaned, his lips trailing down my neck.

I thought he inhaled like he was taking in my scent. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

Instead of answering, I tugged at the hem of his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

Understanding immediately, Riot stepped back just enough to take off his vest and pull his shirt over his head in one fluid motion.

The vest he carefully draped over the back of a nearby chair, the shirt he dropped on the floor.

I gasped at the sight of him. His chest and arms were covered in intricate tattoos, a beautiful canvas of art that couldn’t hide the scars beneath.

Some scars were thin and white with age; others were puckered and angry -- the physical reminders of his time in prison.

There was also the bandage along his side where he’d been hurt defending me and Caleb.

Without thinking, I reached out to trace where that curved around his ribs.

“Does it bother you?” he asked, watching my face carefully.

“No,” I whispered honestly. “Well, only that you were hurt. This is part of who you are. These scars helped make you into the man you are. And my son, the kid who, because of how he’d hurt me, threatened to kill his own father if I didn’t leave the bastard, wants you to be my husband.”

“He wants me for your protector. I can be that without marrying you. Or fuckin’ you.” Something in his expression shifted, a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before.

“You’re worth more than simply being a protector, Quinn. You’re a good man. A kind man. You’re also a man who protects people important to him.”

“Christ, woman.” Then he kissed me again. His hand slid underneath the hem of my shirt, skimming up my side around to my back. “You better be fuckin’ sure about this.”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

I knew this experience would be different than what I’d been through before.

Doug liked to hurt, not pleasure. I thought I’d been kissed before, but what Quinn did to me was something entirely different.

It was possession and tenderness wrapped together with a need so intense it stole my breath.

He ran his hands over my torso anywhere he could reach, learning my body with reverent touches that made me shiver.

When his palm cupped my breast through my bra, I gasped against his mouth.

“Too much?” he murmured, already pulling back.

“Not enough,” I whispered, surprising myself with my boldness. I’d never been a demanding lover. Couldn’t be. Now I was going to make damned sure I enjoyed myself. And the only way to do that was to make Goddamned sure Riot knew what I wanted.

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. He lifted me effortlessly, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me toward his bed in the far corner of the open room. The whole time, his mouth never left mine, kissing me like I was oxygen and he was drowning.

He laid me on the bed with unexpected gentleness, his body covering mine. His weight should have frightened me after years with Doug, but instead I felt sheltered, protected. Quinn propped himself on one elbow, studying my face.

“I went to prison when I was sixteen. Before, I was with one woman. She was three years older than me. I lasted a minute and a half.” I couldn’t help but smile.

Before I could say anything, he continued.

“Even back then, I’d never wanted a woman the way I want you,” he said, his voice rough.

“I swear to you, I will protect you and Caleb with my life.”

I felt small beneath Riot, but instead of fear, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of relief and expectation.

He was so gentle, yet fine tremors racked his body and sweat erupted over his skin like he was stressed.

I leaned up to kiss his neck, needing to give him whatever he needed.

His confession and the careful way he treated me only affirmed my belief he was the perfect man for me.

He inhaled sharply at the touch of my lips against his skin, a shudder running through his powerful frame. “Violet…” He breathed my name like a prayer, his hand sliding beneath my shirt again, this time pushing it upward. “Can I see you? All of you?”

I nodded, suddenly shy but determined. He helped me sit up just enough to pull my shirt over my head, tossing it aside. His eyes darkened as they took in my simple cotton bra, nothing fancy or seductive about it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the edge of the fabric. “So fucking beautiful it hurts.”

No man had ever looked at me this way, with reverence and hunger mingled together. Doug had always treated my body as something to use, never to appreciate. The way Quinn looked at me made me feel beautiful for the first time in years. Maybe ever.

I reached behind me to unclasp my bra, letting it fall away. His sharp intake of breath sent a thrill through me. When his calloused palm cupped my breast, his thumb brushing across my nipple, I arched into his touch with a gasp.

“Tell me what to do, Vi.” I couldn’t imagine any other man in this position asking that question. Not because I expected him to know, but because no other man I knew would care more about making this good for me than protecting his ego.

“Whatever you want. Touch. Explore. Taste. Then you let me do the same.”

Riot’s eyes flashed with heat at my words.

“I want everything,” he growled as he lowered his head to my breast. The first touch of his mouth on my nipple sent electricity shooting through me.

I gasped, arching into him as he sucked gently, then with more pressure, his tongue circling the sensitive peak and making me cry out.

I tunneled my hands through his hair, my fingers tangling in the dark strands, holding him to me.

He switched to my other breast, giving it the same attention while his hand kneaded the one his mouth had abandoned.

All the while, he growled and snarled against my chest. Though he was obviously a man on the edge, his touch was still gentle, almost reverent.

“Quinn,” I moaned, squirming beneath him as heat pooled between my thighs. I’d never felt anything like this before, this desperate, clawing need building inside me. It was frightening and exhilarating all at the same time.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against my skin, his mouth trailing down my stomach. His hands moved to the waistband of my pants, hesitating there. “Still okay?”

Christ, this man! It was obvious how much he wanted to fuck me.

And maybe any woman would do. But he was still stopping to check with me.

He wasn’t moving and counting on me to stop him, he was forcing me to make the decision myself so he knew he wasn’t scaring me into submission.

No one had to tell me that’s what he was doing.

This was who Riot was. A protector through and through.

“Yes,” I breathed, lifting my hips in invitation. “I’m more than OK. Don’t stop, Riot. I swear I’ll tell you if you scare or hurt me. Just do what feels good.”

He must have needed the encouragement because he groaned and sat up on his heels, sliding my pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

I was completely naked beneath him now, and Riot’s gaze ate me alive.

I fought the urge to cover myself as his gaze traveled over me, hungry and appreciative.

“Fucking perfect.” He scrubbed a hand over his mouth.

“If I could have made a woman for myself, she’d look exactly like you. ”

“Where have you been all my fucking life?” I whispered.

He snorted out a laugh. “In prison. But not anymore.”

I smiled, reaching for him. “No. Not anymore.”

“I got lost time to make up for.” He raised his eyebrows as if challenging me.

“I know a double-dog dare when I hear one.”

Riot moved from the bed and stripped off his jeans and boxer briefs. His cock stood out proudly from the thick curls at its base. He was long and thick, his fist circling the base. He gave a slow pump, and I saw pre-cum glistening on the top.

My mouth went dry at the sight of him. I’d never seen a naked man and actually wanted to look at him, never wanted to reach out and touch, taste, explore. But now I couldn’t look away from Quinn’s powerful body, scarred and tattooed and utterly magnificent.

“See something you like?” he asked, his voice deep and rough.

“Everything,” I whispered honestly. “I love everything I see.”

He climbed back onto the bed, his movements predatory and controlled.

When his naked body covered mine, skin to skin, I gasped at the sensation.

The weight of him, the heat, the incredible feeling of his hard cock pressed against my belly, it was overwhelming in the best possible way. I wanted more.

“I want to taste you,” he murmured against my neck. “Every inch of you.”

Before I could respond, he was moving down my body, pressing kisses along my collarbone, between my breasts, across my stomach. His hands gripped my thighs, gently spreading them as he settled between them. The first touch of his tongue against my pussy had me arching off the bed with a sharp cry.

“Christ, you taste good,” he growled, his hands holding my hips steady as he explored me with his lips, tongue, and teeth. “Worth the Goddamned wait.”

Riot fastened his mouth on my pussy, his tongue making a long, slow sweep. I fisted my hands in the sheets as pleasure unlike anything I’d ever experienced rocketed through me.

“Oh my God!” I whimpered as he continued his relentless erotic assault. He circled his tongue over my clit before dipping lower to tease my entrance.

One large hand splayed across my stomach, holding me in place as I writhed beneath him. He slipped two fingers of his other hand inside me, petting my pussy until I was bucking my hips, desperate to come.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned against my thigh, his fingers curling inside me to find that perfect spot. “So fucking perfect.”

When he returned his mouth to my clit, he sucked gently while working his fingers inside me. There was something building, a tension coiling tighter and tighter at my core. I’d never felt anything like this before, this rising, desperate need for release.

“Quinn,” I gasped, my hands finding his head, tangling in his hair. “I’m gonna come!”

“Fuck, yes,” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Come for me. Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

His words pushed me over the edge. The orgasm crashed through me like a wrecking ball.

I thrashed beneath him, my body arching upward, thighs trembling as pleasure unlike anything I’d ever known consumed me.

I cried out his name, over and over, as he worked me through it, gentling his touch but not stopping until the last tremor subsided.

When I finally collapsed back on the bed, boneless and breathless, Riot crawled up my body, pressing kisses against my heated skin as he went. His eyes were dark with all kinds of emotion. Pride, eagerness, anticipation, but most of all raging desire shimmered in his gaze.

He reached into the nightstand and took out a condom. Stood to reason. He’d only just gotten out of prison. No way he didn’t have condoms handy. He ripped open the packet and rolled the bit of latex over his shaft.

When he laid on top of me once again, he gave me a brows-drawn look of longing. Stroking my face with one fingertip he leaned in to rub his nose against mine. “Are you sure, Vi? Last chance.” Instead of answering, I pulled him down for a kiss, then guided him inside me.