Page 3 of Riot
Trying to shake Kage is like trying to avoid the paparazzi. He’s everywhere I turn. During the awards show, he flirted until I made my escape, and now he’s heading toward me at the after-party. I quickly make my getaway, saying goodbye to Beck Danvers, a new rock star who is genuinely kind, but on the way home, all I can think of are his eyes.
His promises, wicked looks, and lustful glances.
Despite the situation, my hand sneaks under my dress in the back seat of my car.
My head falls back as I slide my fingers across my pussy, rubbing my clit. My back arches slightly as I widen my legs.
It’s wrong, and the ring on my finger catches on my panties as I slip my fingers deeper inside and stroke my cunt, feeling the wetness gathered there. His face fills my mind, along with his obsessed eyes as I gasp, circling my throbbing clit.
Lust pours through me, and I’ve never felt anything like it before.
My back arches in the leather seat, and my teeth dig into my lip to stifle my moan of pleasure as I dance toward my release. I see his wicked eyes watching me in my mind and imagine his hand snaking under my dress and replacing mine, demanding my pleasure.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me. Let me worship you.”
I almost scream as I come harder than I ever have before, and when I pull my shaking fingers out of my panties, I stare down at the slickness there in embarrassment.
Shit, what’s wrong with me?
“We are back, Miss Fallon.” The voice comes through the divider. Fuck, did my driver hear me? Oh well, he gets paid enough.
Without a word, I slide from the car, watching the iron gates close as they seal me into my mansion once more. I don’t even spare the white-and-brown exterior of my estate a glance. Most of the lights are off, but the door is unlocked.
“Good evening, Miss Fallon.” I nod absentmindedly at the staff and head up one side of the staircase to the second floor. My heels click down the hall, the wooden floor that was hand-carved just for me taking the brunt of my shame and anger as I reach the open double door of my room.
I head straight to the bathroom adjacent to my room, kicking off my shoes, dress, and jewels as I go without care. I unbind my hair as I step under the spray of the shower, letting it wash away Kage’s woodsy scent, which I can still taste.
I have to scrub my body twice, and when I’m done, I slip into a lace cami set and pad across the plush gray carpet toward the king-sized bed that is the main feature in the room.
One side of the bedding is made, while the other is wrapped around my sleeping husband.
I slide in next to him, turning to him in the dark, my hand tracing across his chest and lower.
He rumbles. He’s awake then, not asleep.
He doesn’t ask about the awards show or my night. Instead, he captures my hand and pulls it up, pressing it to his chest and holding it. “Not tonight.”
That’s all he says.
Not tonight.
I turn over, giving him my back as my eyes connect with the moon, which seems to shine just for me outside of my arched windows, showcasing the estate I proudly bought for its opulence. It’s just another fuck you to my father.
Now, though, it feels too big and empty.
“I’d never let you go.”
His words chase me into fitful dreams.
TWO
“Well, Fallon, I only have one more question, if that’s okay?” Louise, the interviewer, asks kindly. I hate interviews, but they are a necessity. I’m still tired from a restless night, and when I got up, Gerald, my husband, had already been gone. I wandered my huge, empty house, wondering when our marriage had become this cold.
Or maybe it always was.
Maybe I just didn’t notice it, detached from my own reality like I always seem to be.
Apart from him, a little voice whispers.