Raw Bloody Power

Chapter 34

34

RED LIGHT SPECIAL

Rio

The headlight of the Ducati illuminates the mouth of the rooftop access, honing in on the only vehicle parked in the center of the lot. I pull to a stop beside her little Mercedes, and before I can so much as shut off the bike, Ivory’s pushing out onto the pavement and rushing to my side.

“Please don’t tell me you did something stupid…”

Killing the engine, I lift the visor of my helmet and lean in closer, somehow managing to keep my gaze on her face rather than taking a tour of her figure in that black leather skirt. “I didn’t do anything stupid,” I deadpan, the customary soundtrack of the city exploding around us.

She’s no fool, though. I’m over thirty minutes late. What else would I have been doing after leaving her on read in wake of her admission ?

“Rio!” A small palm smacks my shoulder, one I catch at the wrist, effectively lugging her toward me. “Are you insane?”

“Did you really think you were gonna tell me that motherfucker was senseless enough to touch you in any way, shape, or form, and I wasn’t gonna do something about it?”

“Why, ‘cause only you can hurt me?” she sneers it, but her tone is not entirely of the malevolent variety. The glimmer in those amber pools gives her away.

The subtle quirk of her cheeks, too.

Still, I pull her as close to my side as possible, a gloved hand locking around her jaw. “We’re a little past that, don’t you think? The only way I wanna hurt you is with my cock. Repeatedly. Until you’re gushing for me, leaving marks on my skin, and screaming my name like a goddamn prayer.” My grip tightens to solidify my point, squeezing her cheeks until her lips pucker. “You’re mine, Ivory . What about that is so difficult for you to understand? ”

A pointed silence hangs between us. The fact she doesn’t deny it or protest against it in that customary Ivory way is far more telling than any words could ever be.

When I finally release her, she asks, “Are you gonna tell me what you did to him?”

“Are you gonna tell me what he did to you?” I counter.

Ivory looks a me like I’ve grown three heads. “I already did, hence why you went psycho mode.”

Psycho mode ?

I laugh. That was so far from psycho mode. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, really. Koshka’s reaping what he sowed right now.” And when he’s all healed up, he’ll forever think of me dragging that blade along his face every time he looks in the mirror. I’ll get it out of her eventually. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day the truth will reveal itself, and if it’s worse than what I let myself imagine, Benedikt will be on the next red eye to hell. “You wanna go for a ride?”

A gasp. “Can we really?” The way her entire face lights up does that sappy shit to my insides again, only this time, I don’t have the urge to claw it to shreds. I wanna fucking live in it, breathe it in, let it consume me and infiltrate every part of my being. I wanna do whatever the fuck it takes to ensure that smile never fades.

Nodding, I unclip the helmet strapped to my belt and hand it to her. “I got this for you. These, too.” From the inside of my jacket, I produce a smaller, similar version of my own, a pair of gloves tucked into one of the pockets.

Ivory’s head jerks backwards as she takes in the items, her manicured claws tracing the points of the dainty kitty ears on the helmet. “You bought these for me? When?”

“After the other night at the bakery. I told you I’d take you for a ride, remember?” I grin. “Hopefully the jacket fits over your tits. If not, you can wear mine.”

The thought of her in my jacket makes my dick jerk like a prepubescent teenager against my leg.

Rolling her eyes in that adorable ass way, she laughs quietly and trades me the helmet for said jacket. Sliding her arms into the armored garment—because yes, it’s armored; her safety is paramount if she’s gonna be my backpack—I breathe a little sigh of relief when the zipper makes it over the swells in question.

Fits her perfectly and she looks absolutely delicious it in.

“You got a scrunchy thingy?” I ask as she’s slipping on the gloves.

A dark brow curves in question. “In my car, yeah. Why?”

“Grab it.”

She doesn’t really need it, if I’m being honest. I just want to steal a peek of that ass as she walks away. And fuck me, it’s a glorious peek, I’ll tell you that, especially when she bends over the driver’s seat. That little skirt molds to her curves like a second skin, rousing images of it bunched around her waist while I fuck her from behind and watch her throw it back at me. When she returns, I’m on the verge of sporting a semi.

Clearing my throat, I take the thin black band from her possession and twirl a finger. “Turn around.” The raspiness coating my demand is a dead giveaway of the thoughts still running rampant through my mind. Thankfully, she spares me and obliges without question, allowing me to gather her long dark hair and split it in three, quickly crossing the thick sections to form a loose braid. “There. No tangles for you.”

Ivory peeks over her shoulder and runs a hand down its length, likely remembering all the times I played with her hair back in the day. She used to love it. Judging by the look she’s giving me right now, she still does. Taking the helmet, she squeezes her head inside, titling back enough for me to secure the straps and tighten them as needed.

When she’s all buckled up and ready to go, she gives me a little spin on the tips of her combat boots. Strike three for my cock as he rams against the zipper, my molars mashing together almost painfully. My hands itch to be full of her, feeling every inch of her soft skin as I fuck her clear into next week, but I need her on this bike first. I’ve got plans for her on this bike… “Sexiest backpack I’ve ever seen.”

“Good,” she snorts, “‘cause I feel fucking ridiculous in all this shit. Okay, sooo, how the hell do I get on this thing?”

Flipping open the foot pegs, I tip my head behind me and outstretch a hand. “Put your foot on the peg, give me your hand, and swing a leg over.”

She does, but not before grumbling, “Jesus Christ, Manhattan’s about to get a whole view of my ass.”

“Who told you to wear that little thing?” The possessive bastard in me forces the question out in a half grumble of my own, not remotely enjoying that mental rendering. His time in the spotlight is cut short, though, when a swift palm smacks the back of my helmet and shoves my head.

Hard.

“How was I supposed to know you were gonna take me for a ride? You didn’t specify why we were meeting up.”

“Oh, I’ll take you for a ride, all right,” I taunt, wrapping her arms around my middle. “You ready? ”

Ivory nods, and after a few zips down the ramps to the ground floor, we’re pulling out of the garage onto Park Avenue.

For the first couple of miles, her hold on me is tighter than a noose, her entire body pressed flush against my back. The funny part is—I’m not even going fast. We’re still deep in the city, blocked in by traffic and forced to stop at countless lights.

As we pull to another stop, surrounded by smog and the bass of different cars, I quickly flip up the visor and reach back, draping an arm over her leg and rubbing her knee comfortingly. “You good back there?”

I feel rather than see her head bounce, but again—that grip. “Sure about that? Kinda crushing my ribs, baby girl.”

Easing up slightly, she lifts the reflective purple-y pink visor shielding her face and somehow leans in closer. “I’m anticipating the moment you gun it, okay?”

“I’m not gunning it,” I laugh, lying through my teeth. I’m definitely booking it once we get on the highway if it’s clear enough. “Just relax. I got you, okay?” Setting a hand over hers, I give it a reassuring squeeze and gently knock my helmet against hers. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you,” she concurs, lacing her fingers through mine.

My gaze drops as I pull our entwined hands up to my chest and tap the mouthpiece of my helmet against them. Such a small thing, holding hands, and yet it melts all the stress of the evening away. The need to touch her, to feel and keep her close is as compulsive as the need to harass her once was. I’ve never been like this with anyone else, haven’t wanted to be like this with anyone else. Not even after we split.

Only with her.

Always her.

“Aye, man, pop a wheelie!” comes from beside us then, just as the light flips to green. Following the sound, I turn to find three young kids, probably about Dino’s age, one car over. The front passenger bounces his hand out the window. “Pop a wheelie!”

There’s no way he can hear me with the forward ease of traffic and the rev of my engine, but the words slip free anyway as I hook a thumb behind me and shake my head. “Nah, bro. Not with her on the back.”

“Oh, c’monnn!” they all bellow in unison. “Do it, do it!”

If I was alone, I wouldn’t second-guess it, but I’m not risking my girl’s life for some basic ass stunt every motherfucker on a bike can pull out of their ass.

No way in hell.

Zipping past them, I blow through the intersection, weaving around a handful of cars. We make it down four more blocks before another red stops me right on the line, the on-ramp for the interstate just another light up ahead.

“Rio…” Her grasp tightens exponentially all over again.

I nod in understanding and give a little squeeze to her thigh. “Drop your visor, lean into me, and hold on tight. I’m not gonna do anything batshit, and I’m sure as fuck not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“Okay,” she acquiesces, following my orders to a T .

I fucking love when she listens.

“That’s my good girl.”

The way she runs a hand up my chest immediately thereafter reiterates how much she loves those two little words. Almost as much as she enjoys the filthier renditions a more vanilla shade of women might find hurtful and degrading. To Ivory, they’re praise all the same, a reminder that she’s mine, and only I have the power she’s given me to utter them while I’m doing obscene things to her gorgeous body.

Which is exactly what I’m hoping to kickstart now as the light flips to green, and I take off for the highway. The continuous vibration of the Ducati between her legs should have her begging for my cock by the time we make it back to the parking garage.

Slapping the visor shut with a flick of my head, I veer onto the on ramp and merge with the flow of light traffic. There’s nothing but open road ahead of us, the next swarm of cars so far ahead, I can barely see the red glow of their tail lights. Patting her hand in warning, I hit the gas and the bike roars, flying like a hot bullet fresh out the barrel.

Fifty.

Sixty.

Seventy.

Eighty.

Ninety.

I’m pushing triple digits, watching the speedometer inch toward the red when Ivory squeals behind me. I can’t make out whether it’s the good kind or a warning of reaching her limit, but I slow down regardless, tapping my foot at the clutch and dropping a gear, then another as we near the bout of traffic that was just too far out of reach miles back.

She’s laughing, I swear she is, asking for more, for me to pick up the pace again. I wish I’d thought of buying headsets for us when I got her gear. Shit, I should’ve gotten her a vibe rider pad while I was at it. To hear that sexy as fuck laugh of hers right in my ear, thoroughly enjoying herself on the back of my bike… Yeah, I’m hard.

Definitely doing some online shopping tonight.

Zigzagging my way through all three lanes, I push through traffic, riding the lines and squeezing past cars, eager to hit another open stretch. The second I pull up on the Jag, setting the speed behind him, I gun it. This time, there’s no mistaking Ivory’s squeal of excitement, quirking the corner of my mouth.

I can’t wait to taste her.

We ride around for an hour before my gas light kicks on. Pulling into the same Mobil from earlier in the evening, I stop at the first available pump and shut off the bike. Ivory doesn’t move even an inch, prompting me to glance behind me.

“You good?”

She nods, no words.

I lift her visor and find a bright flush painted on her cheeks, pupils blown as her stare links with mine. The brisk rise and fall of her chest is explicitly obvious, and I have to clamp down on my jaw to avoid the evil cackle that wants to break free.

Oh yeah, she’s feeling it.

Probably still buzzing, her legs jelly. Bet if I slid my hand between her thighs, she’d be soaked.

“Are you sure?” Scooping her off the bike, I set her onto her feet, noting how her knees buckle slightly. “Looking a little dazed there.”

“I just, um…I need to pee,” she husks out, leaning into me as she gathers her bearings.

My arms swallow her, keeping her up right as a shit-eating grin claims my face. If helmets weren’t currently part of the equation, my lips would be on her neck, teeth embedding into the slope.

“Go on then.” I slap her ass encouragingly, copping a squeeze for my own enjoyment. “There’s a bathroom inside.”

Watching her walk away, trying to appear level-headed and unaffected, has me stifling down another wave of amusement as I go about filling the tank. By the time the nozzle clicks, Ivory’s making her way back with helmet in hand. She looks somewhat refreshed, the loose, face-framing strands of her hair a little wet as if she splashed water on herself.

“You know what I just realized?” she says.

“What’s that?”

“I haven’t been able to kiss you all night.”

Kind of the point, baby.

I eye her and her pursed lips steadily, screwing the gas cap back in place. “Mad about it?”

“Actually, yeah, I am,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Take your fucking helmet off and kiss me.”

I’m loving this, every damn second of it. She’s more than ready for me. Edged. Primed.

Needy.

And yet, for as much as I want her all over me, I rock my head obstinately. “You know damn well once I get my mouth on you, there’s no stopping me. We’re not far from the garage, Petal. You can wait.”

“I don’t wanna wait,” comes relatively muffled as I snatch the helmet from her grasp and force it back onto her head, yanking her toward me with a hand clenched around the bottom of it.

“Either you be a good girl and wait…or you don’t get to come tonight. Your choice.”

“The former,” she blurts, zero hesitation.

“That’s what I thought,” I chuckle, buckling up the straps. “Talk about fastest attitude adjustment in the history of time.”

We’re off minutes later, working our way back through the city streets to Park Avenue. My girl’s more comfortable on the bike now, her hold on me loose and relaxed. Every now and then she’ll unfurl her arms out like a little bird, too, as I weave from lane to lane. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, boosting the already electric edge of anticipation I’ve been teetering on since we met up at our spot.

Thank fuck we’re only five stops away as we pull up at another red…less if everyone stays in their lanes so I can blow through the intersections. I’m eager to see how quickly she’ll fall apart for me after waiting so long. Half wa y through contemplating whether or not I should edge her some more, the woman in question taps my shoulder, cranking my head in her direction as I drum on the gas tank.

White lace panties—that’s all I see.

She’s holding them out for me, turning my entire trunk almost a hundred-eighty degrees to find her visor pulled up and those siren-like bedroom eyes on full display.

No she didn’t.

Taking the proffered garment, I duck enough to steal a peek under her skirt, and sure enough—she’s bare. If my jaw could drop, it would.

“When did you take these off?” Rubbing the fabric between my fingers, I know they’re wet, even with my gloves in place.

I wanna smell them so fucking bad.

Ivory laughs evilly and rubs her palms up and down my chest beneath my jacket, her chin on my shoulder. “At the gas station. Thought I’d show you what you and your bike did to me.”

I’m hard, instantly. Solid as a goddamn rock. If we were in the Yukon, I’d be pulling into the next available parking lot. Here I was thinking I had her hanging by a thread, and she’s effectively flipped the script in seconds flat.

I can’t believe a pair of panties is my undoing…

“You’re killin’ me, Smalls,” I half-groan, shoving them into my pocket as the light blinks green.

Evidently, that’s the objective because the little offering was only the first part of her plan.

The second, you ask?

Stroking me through my jeans.

Wayward hands trail down my abs, slowly as ever, until she seals one around my hard-on. I’m gritting my teeth by this point, racing past a handful of cars and flying through the intersection, trying to keep my focus on the road and not the way my cock wants out of my pants and into her hand. She’s not shy about it, either, continuing on in her feat despite getting boxed in at another red light. The moment we take off, she successfully unbuckles my belt, too, and by the time we make it up to the rooftop, she’s got my dick out.

I barely manage to park the goddamn bike and shut it off, painfully ready to be inside her. Tossing her where I want her, I set her onto her feet and bend her over my seat. Helmets, gloves, everything stays on as I bunch that little skirt over her ass and give it three consecutive, heavy-handed slaps.

Right.

Left.

Right.

“You’re a fucking cocktease,” I grind out, aligning the tip and easily pushing into my pussy with a single flex of my hips. She’s wet as fuck, the little minx. “Is this what you wanted?”

Ivory nods and grinds against me shamelessly. She’s slipping her helmet off in double time, hanging it off the handle bar as she deepens the angle and shifts a leg onto the bike beside her. I hiss from the angle change, rutting out without trying, and curl her braid around my fist for leverage. The fact anyone in the taller buildings surrounding us could look out their windows at any given moment has my balls tightening in warning.

I’ve always enjoyed an audience.

And apparently, she suddenly does, too. That or she’s overheating despite the chill in the air. Her gloves are next to go. She tosses them onto the ground without care, as if they somehow offended her, and anxiously goes for the jacket next.

“Need some help?” I mutter, arching her backward with a brutal tug of her hair to hastily undo the zipper.

The residual zip hangs in the air as Ivory huffs out a relieved breath and drops her head against my shoulder, eyes squeezing shut in bliss. She’s feral right now, and I’m living for it, yanking the neckline of her shirt, her bra along with it. Her tits spill free, bouncing with each punishing thrust as I bring the mouthpiece of my helmet to her ear.

“Look at you getting fucked on a rooftop like a dirty little whore. You went from ‘Rio, no, the windows’ to taking every inch of my cock out in the open. You’re loving this shit, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathes, tugging at her nipples. “Don’t stop, please.”

I’d say I’m not, always needing her to come first…but this isn’t about her, it’s not for her. It’s for me. I warned her at the gas station she wouldn’t get to come if she couldn’t wait, right? She’s about to learn how serious I was.

Releasing my hold on her hair, I curl an arm around her shoulders and hook the other beneath her leg, powering into her without an ounce of restraint. My quads are on fucking fire already, but I keep on, feverishly chasing the crest of my orgasm. It’s right there, just within reach, looming closer and closer with every soul-searing moan that comes out of her mouth.

“I wonder how many people are watching us right now,” I gruff, purposely goading her toward her own release. “How many people are watching these gorgeous tits bounce for me, how many people are watching me abuse this tight little pussy for my own pleasure over and over again. ‘What a slut,’ they’re probably thinking.”

Ivory shivers against me and cinches her hands around the arm at her shoulders, biting into her bottom lip.

“Nah, don’t be quiet now, Petal. Let me hear you. Let me hear what being watched does to you.”

“I’m so close,” she exhorts on a moan. “I’m so fucking close, Rio. Play with my clit.”

“I don’t think so,” I tut back, pulling out and spinning her to face me as those familiar prickles form at the base of my spine. “You don’t get to come right now.”

Even through the tinted visor, I can see the way those luminous eyes widen in realization, more still when I push her back against the bike and stroke my cock to the finish line. Ivory props up on her elbows and watches in a trance, licking her lips at the image of me coming undone because of her.

A few pumps is all it takes, really, and I’m erupting like a volcano, free-falling into the burning depths of euphoria. “Fuck!” I roar, the tip pressed up against her clit as I spurt rope after rope of my cum, thrusting into my hand. My head falls back on its own, and I think I go cross-eyed in the process.

The last drop barely leaks free before I’m situating her onto the bike, her back pressed against the gas tank, and speedily ripping my gloves off. They land somewhere beside me, forgotten in an instant as I take in my handiwork.

“So messy.” My tongue peeks out to wet my lips at the sight of my cum between her legs, my chest still heaving. “All painted up wearing my mark.” With two determined fingers, I drag as much as I can to her slit and push it deep inside, giving me the perfect angle to cup her pussy and give it a possessive shake. “This is mine. You hear me? All fucking mine.”

Ivory whines in response and rolls into my palm, desperately seeking any type of friction. “Rio, I need to come. Please.”

“You don’t get to come,” I growl, sealing a hand around her throat. A lie. She will, but on my terms. “I told you at the gas station if you couldn’t wait like a good girl, you weren’t coming tonight. My cock was in your hand before I even parked the bike…”

“Oh, God, no. Don’t do this to me,” she fusses, squeezing my wrist as various horns and tires screeching blast off in the background. “Please let me come. I need it. I’m all wound up.”

I have zero intention of giving in, at least not yet, but extend the smallest olive branch and crook my fingers against that spot, my thumb rubbing the faintest of circles to her clit. “Mmm, I love when you beg for me. ”

“I’ll beg in every language if that’s what it takes. Please just let me come.”

I chuckle softly and lean in towards her, keeping the pace slow and steady as my hold on her neck tightens. “I didn’t realize your linguistics knowledge was so vast. They teach you that at your fancy school?”

“Self-taught, for your ears only.” She mashes her lips together, nose flaring, her eyes falling shut in concentration. “Please. Faster, Rio. Please…”

This girl.

She’s so fucking mine it’s not even funny.

I’m suddenly extremely turned on at the thought of her begging me in different languages. And extremely might be putting it mildly. “In Italian,” I hedge. I need to hear it.

“Per favore.”

“Spanish.”

“Por favor.”

Fuck, that’s sexy.

“French,” I press, crooking my fingers a smidge faster.

“S'il vous pla?t,” she purrs, nodding her head at my ministrations. “Shit, right there. Oh my God, right there.” Poor thing doesn’t realize the increase in tempo, the reprieve from my teasing as she climbs higher and higher up the mountain is only temporary. The moment I feel her cunt clamp down on me, I withdraw completely—even the hand curled around her throat. Her eyes snap wide open. “Nooo! Why? Why would you do that!”

“Because watching your pretty petals fall away under my touch is the ultimate high.” I rub my thoroughly soaked fingers together, mouth pooling with saliva. “Mmm, so creamy. What I wouldn’t give to taste you…”

“Do it. Do it right now.” Desperate for relief, she rubs her hands over every inch of her body in a captivating show, starting from her neck, over her tits where she briskly tugs at her nipples, and down to her tights, pushing them apart wider. Take your helmet off and eat my pussy.”

The growl that breaks free is positively savage and untamable, controlling me like a fucking puppet master before I can stop myself. My fingers dive back inside her drenched heat as I push down on her pelvis. “Such a filthy fucking mouth,” comes through my teeth. “I love it. Keep going. C’mon, let me hear you.”

And she does, brazenly so. Any semblance of modesty has long since left the building. Moaned renditions of my name, boisterous pleadings as she plays with her nipples. It’s not long before she’s arching her back and clamping down on me again.

I withdraw a second time.

“Nooo!” Ivory all but screams it, her face contorting as if she could cry. “Why are you doing this to me?”

I bring myself real close for this one, deliberately growling in her ear. “‘Cause hearing you beg is one of my favorite sounds, and you know damn well I always make good on my promises.”

“Then don’t torture me,” she bites out. “Just let me go home so I can finish myself off.”

“Now where’s the fun in that? I laugh, driving my fingers back inside her pussy a third time. “Though, I’ll admit… I’d kill to watch you play with this beautiful cu nt. Get to experience first-hand how you spread it open and handle yourself. Tell me you have toys…”

“Jesus, Rio,” she breathes. “Stop teasing me. I need to come.”

“Need? Or want? There’s a difference.”

“Need. Need,” she stresses. “I need to come. Please.”

“Then answer me,” I demand. “Do you have toys.”

“Yes.”

Mine, mine, mine.

I love this girl.

“Fuck yes. I wanna use them on you. One right here while I fill this tight little asshole.” Pulling her essence outward, I drag it down to the tightened ring and rub around it. “Do I get to have that for the first time, too, or did you give this to someone else?”

Ivory shakes her head and clasps her hands around my neck. “No one.”

Those two little words snap me into an explicit, carnal version of psycho mode. I feel like I just won the goddamn lottery. Knowing I’m her first everything is more powerful than my role as heir. First kiss, first fingers to touch her, first tongue to taste her, first cock to fuck her. It sears through me like a wild blaze, reawakening that frenzied state where making her come is the only thing I can think about.

Nothing that follows is remotely gentle. I’m pushing down on her pelvis with such force, driving my fingers in as deep as my knuckles will allow, I’m surprised she can breathe. There’s no way we aren’t being watched now, too. She’s on the verge of screaming, moaning as wildly as I feel .

“That ass is mine.” You are mine. “I’m going to do very indecent things to?—”

“I’m gonna come!” she belts out, wrenching her eyes shut.

“Nuh-uh. Eyes on me.” I’d slap her lovingly if I could, but I’m not pulling out this time. “Watch yourself in my visor, Ivory. Watch how pretty you look when you come for me.”

She obliges and within seconds, her cunt’s sucking me in like a goddamn vacuum.

“Yes. Fuck yes. Let it go, baby girl. Give your man what he wants.”

Detonation.

Literally.

Her release comes pouring out like a waterfall around a guttural scream, drenching my hand, my jacket, the fucking seat. It’s glorious to witness, so much that I don’t let up, forcing her to ride it out as the onslaught continues. I don’t stop until she’s literally gasping for air and the need to hold her flush against me consumes me on a molecular level.

She’s like mush in my arms, limp and sated, yet even in this weakened state, she manages to lock her legs around me and free me of the helmet. It clatters to the ground, probably picking up a few scratches along the way, and I couldn’t give a single fuck about it. Not when she smashes our mouths together and tears into me, her tongue hungrily dueling with mine. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her lips all night until right this very moment. Threading a hand into her hair, I kiss her back with equal fervor, barely withholding my still very hard cock from easily sliding inside her.

“I’m never washing this seat again,” I mumble against her, both of us laughing in tandem. “Come home with me? I’m not done with you yet.”

Ivory nods frantically, already scooting herself closer. “Yes.”

Mine.