Chapter 72
JESSICA
“Have you ever seen a she–wolf in heat before?”
Pierce dropped his fork and almost choked on his food, his eyes widening as he stared at me across our kitchen table.
“Fucking hell, Jess,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell kind of question is that during breakfast?”
I leaned forward, not giving a damn about his discomfort. My skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending raw and screaming. My birthday is in a week and there’s no explanation why I almost…let Riot kissed me.
“Answer me.”
My voice growls out low and rough, like it’s scraping up from someplace feral. My fingers bite into the table–wood creaks under the pressure, just like my patience.
Pierce’s nostrils flared, and I knew he could smell it on me–that raw, animal scent that had been driving me insane.
Pierce cursed under his breath. “I love you Jess, but–” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Is that what’s happening to you? Right now?”
“No.”
That’s a lie.
Both of us know that.
However, just talking about it makes me already uncomfortable. Mom is not around to ask this kind of question and I have no girl friend. Pierce is what I got.
Pierce who is now looking at me with those feral gaze.
“You know I can smell you right?” He growl, getting out of his chair and turning his back on me. “Look, it happens. It’s natural. But timing couldn’t be worse with-”
“With what? Training? Like I don’t fucking know that?” I stand up, knocking my chair backward. My skin feels too tight, and if I ended up touching myself again, I’m going to bury myself alive.
Pierce looks at me with a mixture of pity and concern that makes me want to scream. “I’ll get Grayson.”
“What?” The name hits me like a bucket of ice water. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
”
‘He’ll know…what to do. He knows how to handle you.”
“Handle me?” I laugh, but it sounds hysterical even to my own ears. “I don’t need to be handled. And especially not by him.” The memory of almost kissing Riot flashes through my mind, making my cheeks burn.
“Then what do you want?” Pierce throws his hands up. “Because right now, you’re a walking target for every unmated male in a fifty–mile radius. This isn’t just about you being uncomfortable, Jess. It’s about your safety.”
He’s right.
But still, I don’t want Grayson. I feel so sick just thinking of him touching me. However, the alternative is much worse.
“I can’t.” It falls out broken, more breath than voice.
He watches me back away, and I see it–the shift in his eyes. That sharp, hunting kind of dark I’ve learned to flinch from.
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Chapter 72
“You need this,” he says, reaching for me. “You know what happens if you don’t”
I slap his hand away. “I’d rather burn.”
And burn I do. It’s almost lunch when I felt it. It was too much. My body is shivering mess.
“The heat crawls under my skin like a thousand ants, burrowing deeper with each passing second. Sweat drips down my back, between my Breasts. pooling at places I don’t want to think about. My shirt clings to me like a second skin, damp and restricting.”
“I need-“My words cut off as another wave hits, more intense than before. My back arches involuntarily, thighs pressing together as if that could stop the throbbing ache building between them. “God… fuck…” I pant, saliva pooling in my mouth as another wave crashes over me.
The worst part is knowing Grayson could end this. One touch from him and this hellish fire would subside. But the thought of his hands on me makes bile rise in my throat, even as my treacherous body screams for relief.
A knock at the door freezes me mid–writhe.
“Hey? You in there?” Pierce’s voice. Shit.
I try to answer but all that comes out is a choked groan. The doorknob turns–I forgot to lock it–and Pierce steps in, stopping dead when he sees me.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, eyes widening as they take in my disheveled state. He quickly steps back, pulling the door almost closed. “I’ll… I’ll get help. Just… hang on.”
My cheeks burn with humiliation on top of everything else. “No!” I manage to choke out. “Not him. Not Grayson.”
But Pierce is already gone.
Another wave hits, stronger than before. I can’t think, can’t breathe. Black spots dance in my vision as my lungs struggle for air. The ceiling blurs, then darkens completely.
When consciousness returns, something cool touches my forehead. A hand. I lean into it, desperate for relief, before my eyes flutter open. The room comes into focus slowly–dim shadows, then shapes, then finally, a face hovering above mine.
“G–Grayson?”
“Guess again, baby.”
That voice–smoky and playful, dripping with trouble.
Riot.
Of all people.
His dark eyes gleam in the half–light, amusement dancing in them as he takes in my state. His fingers trace my jawline, sending shivers that somehow both soothe and intensify the heat.
“Looks like someone’s having a rough night,” he says, his thumb brushing across my bottom lip.
“Fuck,” I pant, twisting the sheets between my fingers. “It hurts…”
Riot’s eyes darken as he watches me squirm.
“No…” I manage to gasp, trying to roll away from him. “What are you doing here?”
He licks his lips slowly, the wet sound almost obscene in the quiet room. His weight shifts on the bed, the mattress dipping closer to me.
“Relax,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear, sending another violent shudder through me. “I won’t do anything.” His laugh is low, wicked, “Though watching you fall apart is quite the show.”
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Chapter 72
This is so humiliating.
What is he even doing here?
“Shhh,” Riot murmurs, and I feel his weight leave the bed. The sudden absence of his touch is both relief and torture. “Let me help you up.
Strong hands slide under my shoulders, lifting me to sitting. My head lolls against his chest, my body boneless with need
“Here,” he says, and I feel something cool against my lips.
Water.
I gulp greedily, droplets spilling down my chin, my neck. His eyes follow their path hungrily.
“You sneak in here?” I manage to ask between desperate sips, noticing the open window, curtains dancing in the night breeze.
Riot’s laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah. I smell something.”
I try to glare at him, but another wave hits and I’m clutching at his shirt, face buried against his neck as I moan through clenched teeth.
“Easy, baby,” he whispers, and I hate how much I love the sound of his voice. “Grayson won’t be back for hours. You’re stuck with me.”
“Get out,” I manage to rasp, even as my body betrays me, seeking his touch. “You…need to get out. I don’t…need your help!”
really want me to get out Jess?”
His fingers slide down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Do you Ma
I twist away from him, nearly falling off the bed in the process. My legs tangle in the damp sheets, and I can feel every fiber of the cotton against my
oversensitive skin.
“I know what’s happening to you,” he says, his voice suddenly serious. “I know how to help you.”
My eyes snap to his face. “I won’t let you touch me! Never!”
34
Riot’s eyes–those dangerous, beautiful eyes–soften slightly. “You’re in heat, Jess. First time, from the looks of it.“, He walks over me and whimper just by his simple touch. “Grayson should’ve warned you this might happen.”
“He doesn’t know,” I say before I can stop myself.
Riot’s expression darkens. ” And you believe that?”
I want to kill him. Right here. I want to slash his throat but I’m so fucked up and the pain is beyond me.
“It hurts,” I gasp, pride forgotten. “Why does it hurt so much?”
“First heat’s always the worst,” he says, and there’s something like sympathy in his voice. “Especially if you fight it.”
His palm presses against my forehead, and I’m ashamed by how desperately I lean into his touch. Cool. He feels so cool against my burning skin.
“Grayson’s been keeping secrets,” Riot says, thumb stroking my temple. “If he marked you without explaining what would happen…”
“Nobody marked me,” I snap, but my voice breaks on the last word.
Riot’s smile is sharp, dangerous. “Yet, That’s why you are feeling all of this.”
My breath comes in short, desperate pants as look up at him. ” Then what should I do?”
“Let me help, Jess.” His fingers ghost down my throat–barely there–but my whole body convulses like he lit a match to my spine.
This is so wrong. I don’t want his touch but my body felt so good with what he’s doing.
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Chapter 72
“Fuck,” I moan, rolling my hips against nothing. The emptiness inside me is unbearable. “I can’t–I can’t”
are almost black. “You smell so fucking good, Jess.” His hand slides down to my stomach, just resting
Riot’s nostrils flare, his pupils dilating until his there, but it’s so helpful. “See?”
Sev
“Please,” I whimper, not even knowing what I’m
think.”
egging for. My fingers clutch at his wrist,!
, not pushing him away but holding him there. “Riot, I can’t
“That’s the point,” he says, voice rougher now. His thumb traces slow circles on my hip bone. “You’re not supposed to think. Just feel.
I shake my head weakly, fighting through the fog. “Grayson-”
“1
“Isn’t here,” Riot cuts in, his face suddenly closer to mine. His breath fans across my lips. “But I am. I can touch you Jess. Just like this for the whole night.”
His hand slides tower, and my back arches involuntarily. The heat blooms between my legs, sharp and needy, making me gasp.
“God, you’re burning up,” he whispers, his lips brushing my
“Let me help you, Jess.”
My body betrays me, hips rolling against his touch. “This is so wrong,” I breathe, but my fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer.
“No one will know,” Riot promises, as his fingers continue to explore my body. I think I’m going to be mad.
My hands fist in his shirt, torn between pushing him away and ripping it off. The room spins as he works his skilled fingers exactly where I need them.
“Riot,” I gasp, my voice barely recognizable. “If anyone finds out-”
“Shh,” he soothes, but there’s nothing gentle about his touch. “This is our secret. Let me take care of you.”
**
AD
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11:34 Wed, 20 Aug DOO
