The Riot

Chapter 61. Only Us

The kitchen was a vault of shadows and steam, the air thick with the scent of red wine and the heavy, grounding aroma of the stew. But as Caspian’s mouth claimed hers, the domestic warmth of the room was incinerated. Rayna was anchored to the marble counter, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her fingers buried in the dark, damp chaos of his hair. This wasn't the tentative, agonizing restraint of the attic or the pressurized tension of the jet. This was an eruption.

​Caspian’s hands, calloused from years of guitar strings and rough Atlantic winters, slid from her waist to her thighs, pulling her closer until there was no air left between them. He broke the kiss, his breath hitching, and buried his face in the sensitive curve of her neck. His stubble grazed her skin, a delicious friction that made her toes curl against the small of his back.

​As he pressed a searing kiss just below her jaw, Rayna let out a low, broken moan that vibrated through both of them.

​Suddenly, Caspian stiffened. His muscles, corded and tense, locked into place. He froze, his face still buried in her skin, his breath hot and ragged against her throat. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the rhythmic bubbling of the pot on the stove.

​"We shouldn't be doing this," he mumbled, his voice a jagged ruin of resolve.

​Rayna’s head fell back against the cupboard door, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "Why not?"

​His hands tightened on her waist, his knuckles turning white. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his emerald eyes turbulent, shadowed by a fear that had nothing to do with the police or the press.

​"The fans," he grumbled, the words sounding like a confession. "They’ll lose it, Rayna. A lot of mine... they’re possessive. They’ll be angry at you. They’ll hunt for reasons to tear you down. This industry, this life... it could kill us both if we aren't careful."

​"Elijah," Rayna whispered, her voice soft but steady. She reached out, her fingers tracing the sharp, lethal line of his jaw, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Look at me."

​He turned his gaze to hers, the intensity there so brutal it felt like a physical weight. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a precipice, fighting the urge to jump.

​"Do you want me?" she breathed, the question hanging in the air like a lightning strike.

​The kitchen fell into a deafening silence. Caspian remained unmoving, his hands still grasping her waist as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded. The clock on the wall ticked once, twice. Then, he answered, his voice a low vibration she felt in her marrow.

​"More than anything in the world."

​Rayna felt her heart flip, a reckless surge of adrenaline washing away the last of her hesitation. Subconsciously, she bit her lower lip, worrying the soft skin with her teeth. Caspian’s eyes dropped to the movement instantly, his pupils dilating until the green of his irises was just a thin, vibrating ring.

​"Then forget about the fans," she murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry, challenging register. "Forget the headlines. Forget the... death. Just for once, Elijah... enjoy the moment."

​"Are you sa-" he started, his voice strained.

​"Yes," Rayna cut him off. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear, her breath fanning the heated skin of his neck. "Forget the food. Forget the noise outside. Take me upstairs. Even if it’s just for the night... I want to be yours."

​Caspian didn't waste another second. The "King" vanished, replaced by a man who had reached his breaking point. He captured her lips in a kiss that was almost predatory, his hands sliding under her knees to lift her off the counter without breaking the contact. Rayna wrapped her arms around his neck, her chest pressed against his, as he carried her out of the kitchen.

​The walk to the master suite was a blur of shadows and friction. Their lips never left each other’s, a desperate, clumsy exchange of heat and hunger as he navigated the wide concrete stairs.

​When they reached the bedroom, the moonlight was pouring through the massive glass walls, silvering the edges of the king-sized bed. He laid her down on the silk sheets, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the fire radiating off his body. He stood over her for a moment, his chest heaving, looking at her like she was a miracle he didn't quite believe in.

​"You're sure?" he rasped, his hands hovering over the hem of his wrinkled black shirt. "Because once I start, Rayna... I'm not stopping."

​"Then, don't stop," she countered, reaching up to pull him down.

​The shirt was discarded, hitting the floor with a soft thud, followed quickly by the rest of their clothes until there was nothing left but skin on skin. When he finally moved over her, the weight of him was a revelation- solid, powerful, and trembling with a restraint that was finally, mercifully, snapping.

​He started slow, his mouth revisiting every inch of skin he had been forced to ignore on the plane. He kissed the hollow of her throat, the slope of her shoulder, and the curve of her hip, his touch a map of worship.

​"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her skin, his voice gravelly and deep. "I've spent weeks dreaming of this. Of the way you taste. Of the way you'd sound when I finally touched you like this."

​Rayna arched into him, her breath hitching as his hands found the sensitive skin of her waist. "Stop talking, Elijah. Show me."

​He let out a low growl, his mouth finding hers again as he moved between her legs. When he finally entered her, it was a slow, agonizingly perfect slide that made Rayna’s vision blur. She cried out his name, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back, anchoring herself as the world dissolved into a rhythm of heat and friction.

​It was intense, a physical conversation that said everything they hadn't been able to say in the scullery or the attic. Caspian moved with a desperate, rhythmic power, his eyes locked on hers, watching the way her expression shifted with every thrust.

​"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low rasp. "I want to see you. I want to see exactly what I'm doing to you."

​Rayna couldn't look away even if she wanted to. The emerald of his eyes was dark with a possessive hunger that made her feel seen in a way that was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

​She shifted, her hands finding his hips, pulling him deeper. "Switch," she breathed.

​He didn't argue. With a powerful heave, he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him. Rayna sat up, her red hair falling around her like a silken curtain, her hands resting on his heaving chest. She took control of the rhythm, her eyes bold as she watched the muscle in his jaw jump.

​Caspian reached up, his large hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs grazing the tips as he groaned her name. "You're going to be the death of me, Red Queen," he choked out, his hips lifting to meet her.

​"Then it's a good way to go," she whispered, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to the tattoo over his heart.

​The conversation was sparse, reduced to breathless commands and broken moans. It was a battle and a surrender all at once. They switched again, the friction building until the air in the room felt like it was on the verge of combusting. Caspian pinned her wrists above her head, his body a heavy, grounding force as he drove into her one last time, his pace quickening, his breath coming in jagged, ragged bursts.

​"Rayna... Rayna, look at me," he gasped, his forehead dropping to hers.

​She opened her eyes, seeing the sheer, unbridled emotion in his face just as the wave hit her. She arched her back, her voice breaking on a high, sharp note as she shattered. Seconds later, Caspian let out a low, primal sound, his body tensing as he followed her over the edge, burying his face in her hair as he finally, completely, let go.

​The silence that followed was heavy and sweet, broken only by the sound of their synchronized breathing and the distant hum of the city they had both managed to forget.

​Caspian collapsed beside her, pulling her into the curve of his body. He was still shaking, his skin slick with sweat, his heart thudding a frantic rhythm against her shoulder. He pulled the silk sheet over them, his arm a heavy, protective weight across her middle.

​"You okay?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and satisfaction.

​Rayna turned in his arms, resting her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I'm more than okay, Elijah."

​He kissed the top of her head, his eyes closing as the exhaustion of the last few days finally began to take hold. "The fans can wait. The world can wait."

​"They'll have to," Rayna whispered, her own eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of the bed and the man beside her pulled her into the dark. "Because tonight, there's only us."