He stared, taking in my face, then my breasts, then focusing on where he was disappearing inside me. I tipped my head, too, looking down to watch as my body opened around him, spreading wide for the thick head of his cock, then engulfing his entire length, taking him all the way inside.

“Fuck … You feel how good we are together? How good we fit?” And then he reached forward, his open hand wide against my lower stomach and hip, his thumb pressing just above my clit. And he didn’t move.

I groaned, removing one of my hands that had been braced on his knee, and reached for him, trying to move his thumb down to where I needed it. But he wouldn’t budge, and when I looked at him, the smirk he sent me said more than words ever could have.

“Tell me. You feel it?” His voice was all scratchy and low, the sound shooting a wave of need straight through me, because I’d been the one to make him go all crazy with want. “You like having my cock this deep inside you?”

I did. I loved it. Loved every bit of us being together. How he made me feel craved and wanted and beautiful. “Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes and hoping my answer would satisfy him enough to move his thumb to where I wanted it most.

Instead, he didn’t budge, just kept his hand planted right where it was. Not needing him to do a job I’d been doing for myself for a long time, I slipped my hand between my legs, just about to touch my clit, when his other hand suddenly gripped my wrist, holding me away.

“Ah ah…”

My eyes flew open as I gave a frustrated growl. “If you’re not going to touch me, I’m going to do it myself.”

“I am touching you.”

“No, you’re teasing me.”

He slipped his thumb down, coming in contact with my clit for the barest second, and I relaxed, my muscles melting as I sank down on him. And then he pulled away again.

“Goddammit, Riley!”

“All you have to do is tell me what you want, baby. That’s all.”

“I want you to touch my clit.”

He moved his thumb down, pressing against me, and held it there. I growled again, increasing my tempo as I rode him, trying to get friction against it in any way I could. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“You said you wanted me to touch your clit.”

He was getting way too much pleasure in this game, so I stilled above him, keeping only the head of his cock inside me, and then I stared at him. He kept that smirk on his face until I reached behind me, tickling my fingers against his balls, so lightly it was barely a breath.

“Jesusfuck,” he breathed, his eyes closing. “Harder.”

“Rub my clit,” I countered.

He opened his eyes, staring at me, both of us at a stalemate. He looked at me for what felt like hours, a challenge in his gaze, and I knew he could see the same thing reflecting back at him.

But instead of sitting still like he’d done a hundred times before when we were younger, he moved both of his hands to grip me hard on my hips, holding me in place while he lifted his hips from the couch and pumped into me. The sudden, harsh thrust against me caught me off guard, stealing my breath. Before I could catch it, he was bucking up into me at a breakneck pace, the sound of our skin slapping together mixing with my panting breaths and his rough groans.

“Fucking love your pussy…” he mumbled, his eyes focused on where he was disappearing inside me. And then he looked up at me, slipping one of his hands up and around my neck to pull me toward him, taking my mouth in a deep, fast kiss. Wild and reckless and utterly consuming.

It didn’t take long after all the teasing for both of us to take each other exactly where we needed to go, chasing our releases until we were breathless and boneless heaps against the couch.

As I lay there, spread out on top of him, my cheek resting against his shoulder, I realized I’d never felt so comfortable with another person. Even when he’d stripped me of my power and took it for himself, he did so without making me feel weak, without making me feel threatened. And I never wanted this to end, this feeling of completion I always seemed to have when I was with him. Never wanted to have to leave him again, not when he made me feel like this. Made me feel like everything would be okay. Made me feel safe.

But I knew I didn’t have a choice.

Chapter Seventeen

RILEY

It was late, the loft shrouded in darkness except for the glow coming from the TV. Once again after sex, Evie had retreated into herself, distancing herself from me, and I hated every fucking second of it. I loved being with her like that, being inside her, but I wasn’t sure it was worth the aftermath every single time. Worth me having to fight my way through once again just like the first time.

Now we sat on opposite ends of the couch, pretending we were watching the TV. After nearly an hour, I’d managed to coax her legs out straight, her feet in my lap as I kneaded her arches, trying to get her to relax even further. Every once in a while, she’d glance over at me, catching me staring at her, but she wouldn’t say anything, and neither would I. I also wouldn’t look away, not ashamed at having been caught looking at her. I think she realized I wouldn’t stop, that I liked looking at her now when I’d been denied it for so long.

And maybe that was why she didn’t push, didn’t tell me to stop.

The ringing of a phone sounded from her side of the couch, and Evie shifted, grabbing her cell from the pocket of her hoodie and looking down at it. She lifted her eyes to meet mine as she answered. “Hello?”

I knew without her saying a word exactly who it was. She wouldn’t answer the call from anyone but Eric—as far as I knew, she didn’t have anyone else in her life who’d call her anyway. And even though I’d been inside her twice over the course of the last several hours, had tasted her on my tongue, felt her pulse around me, it didn’t stop the wave of jealousy from sweeping over me, nearly consuming me. It didn’t matter that Eric wasn’t a threat to me, that he didn’t want her sexually. Because he’d lived with her for the past year, had been a part of her life when I’d thought she was dead, and I hated him for it.

Evie’s body went stiff, her eyes wide as she looked at me. “When?”

The tone of her voice and her body language set me on edge, and I sat up from my reclined position, leaning forward. Despite straining toward her, I still couldn’t hear his side of the conversation. Not caring what kind of breach of privacy it was, I grabbed the phone from her hand and pressed the speaker button, causing Eric’s voice to fill the space.

“—call from the security company. I went back and checked the time the alarm had gone off, then watched the recorded feed of it happening. The whole house has been trashed. They didn’t take anything. The TVs, electronics, jewelry, paintings—everything is still there, from what I could tell. It looked like they were digging for something specific.”

My hand tightened on her foot, and I narrowed my eyes at her. There was only one conclusion about who, exactly, had broken in. That wasn’t hard to figure out. But what I wanted to know was what the hell they’d been looking for, and why she hadn’t told me there was something to find in the first place.

“Did you see what they looked like?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s going to be much help. The footage is grainy, and the guys who did it were nondescript. Average weight, average height, average build, from what I could tell, both of them in dark clothes wearing baseball hats. Not much to go by.”

She raised her eyes to me, and I knew what she was thinking.

Even with the generic description we knew exactly who’d been there.

When Evie and I had been quiet for a minute, Eric asked, “Gen? Are you still there?”

Hearing him call her a different name—the name she’d been when she wasn’t mine—sent that sharp jolt of jealousy straight through me. I fucking hated that the time had been stolen from us. That she’d been stolen from me.