The Worst Kind of Promise (Riverside Reapers Book 2)

KIT

“Why wouldn’t you want to go back?” I inquire, concern stewing deep in my twisted guts.

I’m starting to worry now, so I don’t give her the chance to respond.

“If it’s about your brother, he’s not going to be mad at you. I’m sure he—”

Faye grabs my jaw, her fingers squeezing my cheeks and making my lips purse. “Because we’re finally alone,” she says under her breath.

I stare at her.

She stares at me, except her eyelids are at half-mast.

I blink stupidly, mouth smushed. “I don’t follow.”

Her manicured nails lightly indent my face, and she lets out an impatient growl as her fingers eventually fall away. “I’ve had a shit day, Kit. The worst twenty-four hours of my life. I’m tense, and I need you to fuck the stress out of me.”

Holy shit. Am I seriously that rusty that I didn’t know what she was implying? I want to say I’m a gentleman and would never fuck her when she’s coming off an emotional low, but I’m not a gentleman, and my self-control isn’t that strong. Even surrounded by cold air, I can feel my dick lurch in my pants, and my raisin-sized balls are no longer raisin sized anymore.

I refuse to bite off the frisson in my voice. “Are you sure?”

Faye rolls her eyes at me, her throat vibrating with a rumble I’ve never heard before. “Kit.”

Oh, fuck. My cock is growing so absurdly hard that my thoughts lag for a second. I can feel warmth in my boxers from where my crown’s spit pre-cum, and I’m glad I’m wearing thickish pants, otherwise this would be way more embarrassing than it already is.

I adjust the turgid bulge in my sweats, and I’m so sensitive that my fingers indirectly on my erection feel like goddamn cheese graters. I remember how irresistible her pussy is, especially when it’s sucking me in with needy pulses, weeping with an overflow of arousal that glues her thighs together. “Say my name again.”

“Kit.”

“I don’t have a condom,” I blurt, suddenly wishing that our rink handed out contraceptives like Planned Parenthood. Maybe we should invest in one of those vending machines that dispense condoms free of charge.

“That’s why Plan B’s a thing,” she drawls.

Being inside Faye is amazing as is, but being inside her raw? I have to be dreaming. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I throw my head back, trying to concentrate on the ceiling rather than the ache in my twitching balls. “If we’re fucking in the rink, Faye, we’re not stopping. Not for a second. Not for a break. Not when you beg me to go gentler, not when there’re tears streaming down your face. I’m gonna fuck you hard and rough with my fat cock. And once you’ve come multiple times for me, I’m going to abuse that greedy cunt of yours until I paint your walls with my cum.”

I’ve done my best to avert my eyes from her pointy nipples, but the fabric of her top is about as thin as tissue paper, and now she’s pushing her chest out to me, waiting for me to bite. Oh, I’ll bite. Where I want. And as hard as I want.

“Then do it already,” she challenges, her cleavage dipping down farther as she leans forward.

Our position right now isn’t ideal, but I need to taste her lips, to feel the hot flesh of her tongue as it strokes mine, to run my fingernails along her scalp until I can grab fistfuls of her hair and pull. My hand weaves behind her neck, and I apply pressure to her nape, bringing her nose to nose with me. She’s already panting, our mouths hovering inches from each other, breath steaming between us in the frozen atmosphere. And when I see her lower lip quiver and hear that heaven-sent mewl of hers, I press my mouth to hers in an undisciplined kiss.

A sleet of white flashes behind my eyelids like a stun grenade, and the pressure of our lips marrying one another has endorphins firing in my soupy brain. Fuck, it feels so good to kiss her. So right. With my hand still caressing the base of her neck, I move my thumb to ghost over her jugular notch, and I can feel the steady drum of life pulsing under the thin layer of skin. Her body is still, obedient, but her mouth tells a different story. Hungry, rabid, chasing a high only to savor it for as long as she can, then resume the hunt. A flurry of lips, mind-numbing pleasure, and unspoken promises.

When we pull away from each other, a string of spit bridges between us, glistening in a vortex of moonlight. My own saliva is smeared across her mouth—a result of sloppy impatience—and she’s already beginning to glow with a whole-body flush, making my solid length strain in concentrated throbs.

“Fuck, Princess,” I moan, licking my Cupid’s bow, as if I can feel the phantom residue on my own lips. “You look so good with my spit all over you, but you’d look even better with my cum.”

The filthiest noise barges out of her, too loud to be dampened by any amount of self-control.

“Need your giant cock right now, Kit,” she begs in a pained breath. “Need it stretching and filling me.”

I go to lean forward, but instead of focusing on her mouth, my focus detours to the hinge of her jaw. My tongue darts out to trace up to the lobe of her ear, where I nip at it before sucking it between my teeth. “Only good girls get my cock. You need to say please.”

Her nails scratch down my back, fumbling for purchase, welting the skin beneath. Desperation on any other girl is a turnoff for me, but from Faye, it’s like the best under-the-counter drug.

“Please, Kit. Please fuck me. Use me, degrade me, punish me. I want to be able to feel you for days after. I want to remember this night when I’m touching myself in my own bed, imagining your fingers are the ones in my cunt, bringing me to the edge.”

I growl into her throat, possessiveness transforming once docile desires into barbaric actions, and in this moment, I unlearn who I am. All that exists is the beast inside me who wants to mark her as my own, get off on her screams and the way she writhes beneath me. Like a bunny caught in the bloody jowls of an apex predator.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you remember me for a lot longer than a few days.”

Without warning, I scoop her up in my arms effortlessly, tightening my grip on the backs of her thighs, which are cold to the touch from the floor. The hem of her shorts slides up with each step I take, riding the split of her ass and taunting me with two jiggling cheeks. Her arms are slung around my neck in a holdfast, her mouth on mine with a starved urgency. I can barely see where I’m going, but I’m not about to rip myself away from her. She’s all mine, and I’m all hers, and I’m going to service every one of this woman’s needs.

We stumble our way over to the penalty box, and I make sure to shove the door open before her back has the chance to hit it. When I set her down on the bench, she unwraps her legs from me but keeps them spread, showing me a flash of hot-pink lace. Hot-pink lace that I’m going to fucking rip off to get to that gorgeous pussy.

I kneel down in front of her, clenching the outside of her leg while I press kisses to the supple bed of her thigh. And once I’ve colored the area in lavender rosettes, I drive my teeth into the canvas of her flesh. Harder than a mere hickey. A bite.

A hiss leaks out of her open mouth like gas out of a ruptured pipeline, and she thrusts her clothed cunt into my face, the heels of her feet digging into the middle of my back. Her legs tremble, her breath shooting out of her in quick succession, spine arching to give me easy access to the perfect form of her slender body.

My finger traces a languid path to her panties, not quite close enough to provide her with any stimulation, but an inch from utter ruination if I so decided. “You soaking your panties like the desperate slut you are, Princess?”

Her throat clicks loudly with a swallow. “Yes, Kit.”

“You wanna show me? You wanna drench my fingers in your cum, then watch me feed them to you? So you can taste how fucking sweet you are?”

She doesn’t say anything except for a few incoherent moans, nodding her head eagerly. I can’t help but love how submissive she’s being, how she trusts me enough to take her in any position I want with no snappy comeback in sight.

I yank down her gray shorts more forcefully than I intended, revealing the high-cut thong barely covering her wet clit. She’s soaked through the material just like I expected, canting her hips into the air, galvanized to reach that unsurpassable summit of her climax.

My mouth begins to water. I can already taste her. “I love this sight of you sprawled out in front of me, showing me that pretty little cunt. You’re perfect, Faye. So perfect that it drives me up the damn walls,” I gasp.

Her eyes are pinched closed, breasts heaving. “Fingers. I want your fingers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Within a second, her underwear is off, and my God…

Puffy, pink, neglected lips shimmer with viscous arousal. I’d fall to my knees if I weren’t already on them. My dick, standing at attention, makes it painfully obvious just how turned on I am, and my lower stomach contracts with the growing need to come. I sheath the first joint of my finger inside her, and a blissed-out expression overtakes her wound up features.

“Oh, God. That feels so good,” she breathes, her walls already clenching around my digit.

I begin to move my finger deeper, and her entire body comes off the back wall, legs clamping tighter around the bulk of my torso. So tight that she nearly knocks the air out of my sore lungs.

“Look at me while I finger you, Faye.” I add a second finger, starting to steadily pump within her warm heat, the squelch of skin and muscle and moisture amplified within the confines of the box.

Her eyes rip open to watch me, and I make sure to slide my fingers out far enough for her to see, then I plunge them back inside, flittering just outside of her G-spot. I’m drowning in her ambrosia from here, and it doesn’t help how crazy responsive she is—the briny sweat dripping down her temples, her bare belly tightening, her hair wildly strewn about and coming more undone.

“So wet for me. Keep squeezing, Princess. Ride my fingers. Don’t stop until you make a mess everywhere,” I order in a brassy bellow.

I circle inside of her with a fast-paced motion, getting rougher with each flick and scissor of my digits. She rides my hand down to my knuckles, gushing off-white juices. Our groans coalesce into one, hers overlaying mine in volume, booming around the stadium like an announcer’s voice. She’s so incredibly sexy like this, begging me to come, using my body as much as I’m using hers.

Still working my hand, I rear forward to drag my lips against her stomach, kitten-licking her belly button. I can tell she’s close by the way her eyes are rolling back and the vise around my fingers. And perfect timing, because my cock needs to be buried inside her. I need to feel her pulse around my girth, need to look her in the eyes as I fuck her rough and slow.

“Kit,” she whines, biting down on her lower lip so hard that blood bubbles to the surface.

“I know, Princess. You’re doing so well,” I coax.

She fucks my fingers, her head tossed back against the wall, sweat running down her neck and disappearing below the collar of her shirt. And then she shatters before me, thighs suffocating my skull, hands pawing at the edge of the bench, a geyser of wetness erupting over my knuckles.

“Fuck,” I grunt, desperately needing to get my pants off before I lose my load. My dick hasn’t even been inside of her yet, and just watching her orgasm was enough to almost make me come.

Faye drops her legs back down in front of her, leveling her breathing as best as she can, her entire body now clad in perspiration.

I take my index finger and push it past the seal of her lips, smearing her own cum on her tongue.

“I told you,” I rasp, pride waxing inside me. “The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

She nods in agreement, watching as I slowly withdraw my digit, just grazing her scarlet-mottled bottom lip. Then her eyes coast over the embarrassingly noticeable situation in my pants, and her fully loaded stare makes my cock spasm.

“Take your pants off,” she commands tersely.

“Take your shirt off,” I volley.

With an annoyed noise, she pulls her tank top off in one smooth motion, letting it fall to some shadowed area of the penalty box. Her small, full breasts rest against her body, swaying slightly as she moves to readjust her position, and the sight of her hard nipples makes every nerve ending inside of me catch aflame.

“Pants.”

I slowly roll my pants down as overdue need kindles in my stomach, very aware of Faye’s eyes watching my every movement. The minute my cock springs out, I feel a thousand times better. Sweatpants aren’t supposed to be restrictive, but it’s a whole different matter when you’re hard.

The heft of my dick protrudes forward, the ruddy tip smeared in creamy pre-cum, and I add a hand to the root in some fruitless effort to stabilize it.

Faye leans forward, tracing her finger along the vein spanning the underside of my penis, and the softness of her touch swamps me with so much stimulation that I can’t help the moan she extracts from me. Her digit ends its expedition at the mushroom head, and she swirls around my seed before sticking her finger in her mouth. She suckles loudly, only for her lips to pop off with an overexaggerated suction sound.

This fucking woman.

I stick my thigh between her legs and spread them, meeting zero resistance. “You ready to have my dick now, Princess?”

Faye nods. “Give it to me, Kit. Give me every inch of you. Please.”

I position my cock at her sopping entrance, gliding the head through her folds without applying pressure, and she trills in her throat as her body convulses with a shudder. “Gonna look so good full of my cock.”

I piston my cock into her cunt, testing the give of her walls before sliding in even farther, all the way until the blunt pressure of my crown presses up against her cervix. Her pussy stretches around my girth, sucking me in deep, so deep that her warmth makes me never want to leave. She grabs my back for support as I begin to steadily thrust inside her, making her body rock as we move in a synchronized motion. Tits bouncing, ass clenched, mouth permanently agape to accommodate for a string of moans. My penis batters against her walls, slow and rough, all while the momentum has Faye’s back slamming against the box.

I feel her palpitate around my length, milking me with her liquid desire, and it electrifies my veins with high voltage shockwaves—ones that make my brain go dark and my muscles slacken for a brief moment.

I’m rooted inside her to the hilt, my ball sack smacking against the edge of the bench. With my injured hand suspended above us, pressed to the glass for stabilization—and yes, it hurts like a bitch—I use my other to massage her tit. I can nearly cup her entire boob in my palm, and I torque her nipple, causing her to unwittingly let out a tone of pleasured cries. I roll my hips, probing against Faye’s G-spot, and her cunt throbs like a second heartbeat in response.

“So good, Kit. It feels so good,” she moans airily.

I slide partway out of her magnificent cunt, watching as my lubed-up cock sinks into her tight ring of muscle, squelching and slopping. And then I shunt the deepest I can, watching in the limited lighting the way Faye’s flat stomach bulges with my dick. A slight groan—probably to defuse some of the initial pain—levitates out of her.

“Fuck…” I growl, placing my hand over her belly, feeling the outline of my cock through her skin, feeling where I am inside of her. “You have no idea how hot this is, Princess. Seeing you all full of me.”

I give my girl a barrage of slow strokes that have her spine lifting into an arch, her toes curling, and her nails digging so deeply into my back that I’m sure they’ve drawn blood by now. An incendiary ache blazes in my lower abdomen as my balls hang heavy, needing to spill my release. I’m close, and judging by the heaving of Faye’s body, the pause in talking, and the way her cunt is strangling me, she is too.

She whimpers. “Kit, I’m going to—”

“Let go, Faye. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

With one final plow, Faye explodes through her climax, and I’m right behind her. It’s like a lit cigarette’s been thrown onto a pool of flammable gasoline, sparking a fire so fatal that it could swallow an entire three-story apartment.

I jerk inside her, spurting stream after stream of cum, so much so that some of it leaks around the plug of my cock, trickling onto the bench. My body wants to collapse onto her, but I hold myself up, heart ticking like a metronome in my chest and legs screaming with a burn that’s going to seep into tomorrow.

I study Faye’s face long enough to see the sex haze clear from her eyes, her body spent and splayed beneath me, looking the rawest I’ve ever seen her. No facsimile of a smile, no hollow words for my easement, unburdened of the secrets she’s been keeping. She’s as organic as the stars in the sky, skin sparkling with opaline brilliance from sweat and particles of moonlight, and she’s sacrificed a life of excellence to be slumming it down here with someone like me. My very own star. Forever the shining light leading me through the darkness, reminding me where home is.

As soon as my dick softens, I gingerly pull out of her, the combination of our arousals slathering my length. I have no idea how I’m gonna clean this up before practice tomorrow. Our breaths have fogged up the glass, the smell of sex lingering in the air, and now I realize that I’ll never sit in this box without thinking about…well. Which could be a good or bad thing. Good for obvious reasons. Bad for concentration reasons.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Better,” she says.

I lean down to kiss her—the calm after the storm—and she invites me in with no frantic tangle of tongues or rake of teeth, just simply letting me feel the bend of her mouth. The sweetness, the softness, the simplicity.

“Better is good,” I whisper against her lips, feeling the first telltale signs of a smile.