Playing Rough by Heather Ashley

Author:Heather Ashley [Ashley, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-02T18:30:00+00:00

16

LONDON

The living room's dark except for the glow of the TV. Some cliche action flick Riot picked out, though we're barely watching. The popcorn between us has gone cold, and I don't think either of us has moved in over an hour.

Riot's thigh presses against mine, warm and solid. It still feels new being this close, blow jobs aside, but it's starting to feel natural too. We've got a comfortable quiet going, just the movie's explosions and cheesy one-liners filling the space between chatting.

"That line was supposed to be funny, right? Hard to tell with this shit plot," I comment.

Riot chuckles, his breath tickling my ear. "Yeah, it's impressively terrible. But this..." His hand trails up my leg. "This is way better than any movie."

A smile tugs at my lips as I turn my head towards him. "Got that right." I close the distance between us, kissing him slow and deep. It’s insane to me that I can do this now.

Or that I want to.

Riot makes a low sound in his throat, hand tightening on my thigh. We take our time exploring each other’s mouths, the movie fading to background noise. He tastes like buttery popcorn and mint, and I can’t get enough.

His thumb brushes my cheek when we finally separate. “What do you say we ditch this cinematic masterpiece and find something better to do?” His suggestive smile sends heat swirling through me.

“I like the way you think, Kensington.” I grab the remote and flip the TV off, bathing us in darkness.

Riot’s mouth finds mine again as his hands trail across my chest. My fingers dive into his silky hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is lazy and a little bit dirty while we feel each other up.

His lips move to my jaw, my throat, each press lighting me up. I tug at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He reaches back and pulls it off in one smooth move that I’ve done myself a thousand times and never found hot until now. I explore his jacked chest and inked arms, tracing each ridge. Mapping every plane and valley.

“God, London,” he breathes, nipping my bottom lip. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Then do something about it,” I dare, pulse racing as our mouths crash together again.

Riot lets out a low growl into our kiss, his roaming hands and hungry mouth making it damn clear how bad he wants this. He tugs at my shirt until I lean forward enough for him to pull it over my head.

Skin to skin, we crush together, hands greedy to touch whatever they can reach. I kiss and nip along his neck as his fingers trail fire up my spine, making me shiver hard.

"Fuck, London," Riot rasps, tipping his head back so I can kiss lower. I lick over his collarbone, drinking in each hitch of his breath.

His hands move to grip my hips, guiding me until I'm straddling his lap. The new position aligns us perfectly, hardness meeting hardness through our jeans. I rock my hips and we both groan at the delicious friction.

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