When my fingers brushed her backside, the skin so soft and smooth, and there was nothing there… When she’d arched into me, stretching her hot, wet center over me… Fuck.

  I sat up in the bed and quietly removed myself from a very dangerous situation. I left the door to the bedroom open so I could hear her if she called out, then went back down to the couch. I felt like I was being sent to solitary.

  It took me ten minutes to realize I just needed to go make a pot of coffee and give up sleep for the night. I walked to the kitchen, looking at the house around me as I went, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the bereft feeling in my chest. Not to mention my hard-on.

  The truth was, I could live with a hard-on. I’m a fucking guy, I’ve gotten them my whole life, and ladies have the right to say no. That’s the deal. I’m my mother’s son, and I have no problem with that rule.

  The problem wasn’t actually how bad I wanted to fuck that girl—and I did. I wanted her worse now than before; I wanted her so bad I was still sucking the finger that smelled like her secret scent, her tight little tunnel. I wanted to push that little pussy to the limit, to make her beg me, to be so deep inside of her that when I came she squeezed me all the way down to my balls.

  But I wanted more than that, too. And the timing wasn’t right—Riley wasn’t the right girl, even. Love doesn’t care about things like that; love doesn’t care that she won’t want to be with a cop, and even if she did, she still might not want to be Loco Jr. She knew more about me than most of the guys I worked with, and all the rumors were true. I was ‘hood royalty, even if I never claimed the throne; it was destined for me the moment I killed Shady Parker, when he raised a gun to my father’s head.

  Curtis was a monster. I did not care that he was dead. It took me a long time—and my mother’s wisdom and unconditional love—to understand that being a nine year old boy and shooting the man who was going to kill your daddy in front of you did not make you evil. But she was right, in the end; I was not my father. I would actively avoid any situation that required me to hurt someone else, and eventually, as a man, I would use the instincts I gained from my childhood to protect people from ever having to make the same choice, or being victims of men like Curtis, like Shady, like my dad. I felt no guilt, now, and I knew that I wouldn’t; I imagine that for other men, men who had less familiarity with who they were dealing with, there was always the question of whether they’d really deserved to die. The secret I learned, thanks to both my mother and my father, was that no one did, and it didn’t matter. I wasn’t a judge, nor was I meant to be. I had to protect who I loved, and what I did in the moment to achieve that didn’t make me a monster, too—it made me a man. That’s all.

  But Riley might not agree with that.

  Riley was from the ‘hood, sure, but she was made of the golden light you could see in her eyes—strong, true and sure. She seemed like the kind of woman that worked with absolutes, and if she decided I was just a murdering bastard—and she’d certainly have a good case for it—then she wouldn’t want to be with me. Being a cop was probably the least of my unattractive qualities. I was a man in the shadows, someone who existed in the ambivalent space between light and dark. I lived in shades of grey, a permanent twilight. I tried to use my powers for good, but to Riley, that might not be enough.

  “Hey.” I spun on my heel, staring into the dark. There she was, my little dream. She pushed a hand through her hair, and I felt a rumble in my chest; that bruise on her temple brought out every protective instinct I had. Even if it ended up being the reason she wouldn’t be with me, I couldn’t regret killing Curtis. He was what he was, and I am what I am. That’s all there is to it.

  I must have been really distracted. I couldn’t remember the last time someone got this close to me without my noticing. “Hey,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. She still wasn’t wearing any panties under that shirt. “Want some coffee?” I turned back to the machine and stared at the red light, trying hard to focus on anything but her.

  “I want to go back to bed,” she said, and I heard her walk up behind me. I started to turn around and then… Her arms were wrapping around my waist, and I could feel her pressing her cheek against my back. When I twisted in her grasp, she let me turn towards her but didn’t let go, cuddling my chest instead. I didn’t know what to do—I hadn’t been expecting this. When I didn’t hug her back, she leaned away to look up at me. “Aren’t you tired? Do you want to come lay down?”

  “I don’t think I can sleep,” I said honestly. My voice managed to keep the blank tone, and I saw her frown sleepily, until her eyes cleared and an expression I can only describe as mischievous drifted over her features.

  “Then let’s not sleep,” she said softly, her frown fading fast as she rose up on her tippy-toes, bringing her mouth closer to mine. I couldn’t keep myself from sinking into that kiss, that beautiful cinnamon-and-gold face blinking up at me in the moonlight… As I tasted her mouth I felt my desire take over, and before I could stop myself I’d lifted her up onto the countertop and was raking my hands through her hair, my lips so hungry for hers that I groaned through my teeth into her mouth. We were like a wild-fire, all consuming; Riley wrapped her strong legs around my waist and yanked me against her, my cock banging in to the wet center of her body, bare and open and slick from her earlier orgasm, and I felt my hands grip the edge of the shirt she wore and start to tear it apart. Just before I shredded it, Riley broke the kiss and leaned away from me, panting. “Dylan—”

  “Fuck,” I snarled, springing back. This was not helping. If I put my dick in her… If I managed to slide into that tight, tiny pussy, the hot little pink slit I could see right there, gleaming with damp desire and begging to be pumped full of my cum, I was never going to get over her. Never. I would spend the rest of my life patrolling Route One, desperate for a glimpse of her, trying to keep my distance and my heart from breaking when something finally happened—when she finally moved away and got the life she deserved, or when they came for her. Fuck. The thought made my heart hurt. I ran my fingers through my hair and backed up another couple of feet, my chest seizing as I imagined all of the awful things that might happen to this beautiful woman, the woman I loved, when she went back to her real life in the Terrace.

  Riley was watching me, her golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Dylan, what’s going on?”

  I spun away from her, trying to regain control.

  I understood her panic from earlier. I was the same way. I never lost control, never—it was a life or death issue, where we were from. Cool heads survived. Keep it casual, keep your guard up.

  Right now, I was not feeling fucking casual. I was not controlled.

  Slowly, I turned towards her, forcing my hands down by my sides, and took a long, deep breath. “I can’t go back to bed with you,” I said, making my voice as monotone as possible.

  “Why?” She was staring at me in her usual adorable, imperial way.

  “You know why,” I snapped, my leash fraying. “Look, Riley—”

  “You can tell?” I wasn’t expecting that—the look of hurt, the flash of shame on her face. “Am I really… Am I bad at it?”

  “Bad at what?” It was my turn to be confused, and I stared at her in bewilderment. She crossed her arms over her chest in a show of defiance as pride erased the more vulnerable emotions from her expression.

  “You can tell I’m a virgin,” Riley said, watching me. “Well, that’s… Embarrassing. Okay. But—”

  “Riley,” I said, my head clearing as I shook it, raking my hands over my scalp again, “I don’t—”

  “I didn’t think it would matter,” she said, and the undertone of defenselessness was still there, under the glint of her armor. “And I tried to tell you, but… I got carried away in the moment, and I never for a second would have believed that…” To my horror, I realized she was so embarrassed that even with her hard demeanor in place, she might cry, and that snapped me immediately back to the present, to reality.

  “Riley,” I said, walking towards her, “I don’t care.”

  “Bullshit,” she sniffled, and promptly wiped a single tear away and refused to meet my eyes. “I feel like such a dummy—after waiting for so long and it becoming such a big deal, I just—”

  “Riley, I do not care that you’re a virgin,” I said, making my voice hard. Her eyes came back to rest on mine. “I couldn’t tell, and I don’t give a shit.”

  “They why…?” She looked up at me, so confused and upset. Once again, my resolve crumbled and I reached out and cradled her cheeks in my palms, wiping her remaining tears away with my thumbs.

  “Because I care about you way too fucking much,” I breathed, hypnotized by the way her eyes looked in the moonlight. “Because never in my whole damn life have I wanted someone to want me the way I want you—and known it wouldn’t work out. Never in a million fucking years would I have expected for this to happen. Not to me.”

  “What are you saying?” Riley’s eyes were so wide, the lashes framing them like silver spangled spiderwebs, tears like dewdrops on fringe.

  “I’m saying… I think I could love you, Riley.” I felt my chest tighten at the admission. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I can’t have sex with you and just go back to work tomorrow, back to living life the way it was before. Hell, that’s all already fucked up. But if I…” I took a deep breath and forced myself to continue. “If I got to be the one you trusted like that…” I shook my head. It was too much. “I don’t care that you’re a virgin. Not in the way that you mean.”

  Because I did care—I wanted to be the first one inside of her. The only one ever inside of her. I wanted to breed with Riley like we were a fated match, feel my child kicking in her belly while her breasts grew round and swollen, feed her and clothe her and protect her and call her mine while she lived in this house and held on to me in the dark. I wanted Riley’s virginity the same way I wanted the rest of her: to be mine, only mine, forever. If she trusted me with herself, I would give my life to deserve it, every day we were together, every minute.

  And that shit was fucking crazy.

  “I know we just met,” I whispered, “and I know you don’t want to be with a cop. And I know you know who I am—who I really am,” I said, staring into her eyes. “So don’t ask me to come back to bed with you. Come have a cup of coffee with me and pretend we never had this conversation.”

  But Riley wasn’t the type to do what someone asked, just because they asked nicely—or not. So she didn’t move a muscle, not for a long time, her eyes glinting up at me in the dark. We were both perfectly still for what felt like eternity until I felt her legs wrapping around my waist, tightening around me, pulling me close once more.

  “No,” she said, and then she drew my mouth down to hers.

  ~~~

  Riley

  I wrapped Dylan’s hair around my fingers and pulled his face to mine, not giving him a chance to escape. When my lips met his, I felt his hesitation and gently reached out with my tongue, gliding the tip along the seam of his mouth, and he grunted in the back of his throat and seized it with his own. His hands slid down my thighs, over my hips, and gripped my ass; I bucked when his nails latched into my skin, marking me. My center was open in front of him, but he was still holding back. “Dylan, please,” I gasped, and this time he roughly yanked my body to the edge of the counter and bit my neck. When he let me go, we were both panting.

  “Say it,” he growled. “I need to hear you say it.”

  “I want you to take my virginity,” I begged. “Please.”

  “It’s going to hurt,” he warned me, and I knew that half of the desperation in his voice was because he didn’t want to—I felt how badly he needed to be inside of me; the air thrummed with the energy that sparked between us, the desire to claw into one another completely. But I knew he didn’t want to hurt me.

  Too bad.

  “Please,” I hissed, and then my hands were scrambling over his hard stomach, searching, feeling the heat of his skin as I dragged my fingertips over those proud hip bones, down again, through the silky hair and finally, at last, finding him. He rocked on his heels, his own fingernails sinking into the flesh of my ass as I pulled him closer by the shaft, his pants dropping to his ankles as I yanked him free. He groaned when I spread my legs, propping my ankles on the counter, wide open in front of him, and when I looked down and saw the length of him, the broad head of his cock searching for the way inside—I got scared.

  But not scared enough to stop.

  Dylan and I breathed in tandem as he released my ass from his iron grip and reached down to guide himself inside of me. I stayed where I was, balanced on the edge; his other hand held me so tightly I knew I would have bruises shaped like his fingers tomorrow. He pushed the soft tip against my wet skin, and I sucked in a breath as he breached my entry, just barely, the thick head not able to surge further unless he pushed. Dylan let go of his cock and used that hand to drag my face up to his, forcing me to meet his gaze. In the moonlight I could barely see his expression—his profile was starkly silhouetted in moonlight, gleaming as if it were gilded in diamond. He captured my lips with his, sinking his tongue in my mouth at the same time he drove his cock into my damp slit.

  It hurt. It hurt so much—I threw my head back, wailing his name as he slowly forced his way inside, sinking deeper and deeper, his face lowering to mine as he cradled my jaw. He finally reached the base, and I could feel him there, spreading me, opening me. Dylan stayed perfectly still, holding on to my body, his cheek now against mine as he waited for me to recover. I felt his breath on my shoulder, the heat of it on my neck; I inhaled and flexed my shoulders, trying to gather my strength. He was like a wild animal, waiting for any sign to attack. When I turned my head and nuzzled him, his teeth sank into my shoulder as he pulled out and slid back inside.

  This time it didn’t hurt as much. I rocked on the edge of the counter, my feet still spread wide and his hands holding me tight. Dylan still gripped my ass, and now his other hand released my face and trailed down my body, sliding across my nipples as he held me in his teeth, teasing them briefly before slipping further below. When his broad thumb touched my clit again, I shivered with anticipation. Dylan pulled out a third time, and when he bore into me again he kept it shallow, filling me with smooth, even strokes only a few inches deep as he teased my clit. I moaned his name and he picked up speed, his breath coming in hot gasps between his teeth; the warmth of an orgasm was trickling through me already, making me sweat and groan. I felt swollen and raw; I wondered what it would feel like when he came in me, when I was so full of him that we were only one creature, the same wild thing capturing us both in its claws at the same moment. Dylan released me from his bite and grunted in my ear when I flexed, my body contracting around him as he fucked me, shallow and rhythmic, as my body prepared to cum for him. “Baby girl,” he whispered, picking up speed as my clit engorged beneath his touch. I moaned as I felt the orgasm starting to lash my spine, making me arch into his thrust; he adjusted his speed, meeting my hips with his own, the sound of our bodies hitting hard and flat. My nerves began to burn; the ache in my pussy grew tighter and hotter as he relentlessly pushed on, my new-found ecstasy sizzling in my center as pain and pleasure wove together and whipped through me, forcing me to cum for him. “Say it, Riley,” he hissed, picking up speed again. “Say you’re mine. Say it.” He pumped into me, my head rocking back and forth now as he arched into the thrust, pummeling my swollen mound as he stroked my clit and made me his.

  “Yours,” I panted, unable to form a sentence— “I’m yours—”

  “Only mine,” he snarled, picking up speed yet again. My pussy was so wet he slipped right into my swollen folds, filling me, stuffing my body with his cock, seeking a target somewhere deep in my belly. I hurt, but oh, my god, I’d never felt so good.

  “Only yours,” I moaned, echoing him—I felt the command in my chest, in my heart—I was his, now, I wanted to belong to him, that was why… That was why… “Dylan!” I was cumming now, helpless before the tsunami as it crashed over me, dragging me into a place of oblivion so deep I lost all connection with the world around me—everything was him, his handprint embedded on my ass, his voice snarling my name, his cock filling me up over and over and over again until finally, finally, I felt him swell so deep inside I bucked away—but there was nowhere to go, he held me fast, making me take it… And then I felt the heat, the eruption he sowed in my body, the final claiming.

  Neither of us moved for a long time. Dylan’s grip lessened, and he held me by my waist, his lips moving across my collar, my shoulder, my jaw. Neither of us spoke. I was spent, utterly exhausted, and felt raw and sore. Dylan gently pulled my heels off of the counter and let my legs dangle on either side, and it took a long moment for my muscles to relax, for all of the cramps to work their way out of thighs. I was bruised.

  But I didn’t care.

  I felt something else, too; something I didn’t expect. I felt… Happy. Content.

  Satisfied.

  All of the worries I’d had, about so many things—about sex, obviously, but also about how long I was going to have to live with the fear that someone was coming for me, that I was alone, the thought that all of the work I’d done and the person I tried so hard to be would never be enough to get me out of the ‘hood, all of the grief that I had no one to share with, all of the hope I never let myself feel—some much of it was just ebbing away. I could feel it leaving my body, as if Dylan had healed me by touching me inside, in my deepest place, by wanting me so much he couldn’t help himself. As if love were real, and new, and happening, right now, to us.

  “Dylan?” I wished I could see more of his face. He slipped his hands under me again and then scooped me up as I used his hips to steady myself. He walked with me back to the bedroom like that, my swollen body pressed against his, and kissed me again, sweet and soft. He laid me down in the bed and stretched out beside me in the moonlight, then rolled over to face me after a moment.

 

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