THE WILD CAT

Chapter 17

Riley was shocked by the sudden, intense way Armani kissed her and she pulled away immediately, pushing him aside to scramble off the bed.

"I will leave now," Riley stated, moving toward the door, but Armani was too fast. He lunged, dragging her back and pulling her down onto the mattress. He pinned both her hands above her head, his grip unyielding.

"After what you did to me, you think you can just escape?" Armani’s voice was low and rough. Riley was confused by his accusation until she followed his intense gaze, dropping her eyes to his pants. The visible evidence of his reaction left her breathless.

Riley swallowed, realizing how quickly she had managed to break through his cold exterior. A sudden, cold calculation took hold: if she could truly secure control over the strongest brother, her plan would accelerate dramatically. She decided to use the opportunity.

Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, down his body until she reached his pants. When she made contact, Armani let out a sharp, guttural sound, shutting his eyes as he fought for control.

A small smirk touched Riley's lips. She leaned up and pressed her mouth to the side of his neck, sucking lightly as she whispered, "Did I really do this to you?"

Armani slowly nodded, his breath coming out ragged and fast from the effect of her touch. "F*ck," he cursed under his breath.

Riley drew him closer, connecting their lips again. This time, Armani kissed back with an intensity that suggested years of tightly controlled desire had just been unleashed. The kiss was rough, a battle for dominance that Armani quickly won. He bit her lip, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as he took possession of her mouth.

Armani released her hands only to shove them roughly under her shirt, pushing the fabric up and over her head. Riley's breath hitched, but she didn't fight him, instead wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him further onto the bed.

A flicker of triumph crossed Armani’s face—a brief, predatory grin that vanished as quickly as it came. He tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply.

"You should have stayed away," he growled, the warning carrying a weight of something dark and possessive.

Riley gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle. "But I didn't," she challenged, her voice low and husky, pushing the moment toward the edge.

He lifted his head, his dark eyes burning into hers. They were filled not with passion, but with a complex mix of anger, desire, and perhaps a flicker of self-loathing. He didn't look like a man enjoying a moment; he looked like a man breaking a vow.

Riley knew this wasn't about pleasure for Armani; it was about power, control, and a violent release of tension. She tightened her grip, ready to ride the storm, knowing that conquering this brother would be the hardest, and most rewarding, victory of her entire plan.

Armani finally broke the long kiss and stood up from the bed, his movements sharp and deliberate as he began to remove his clothes. Riley watched him, a strange mix of apprehension and audacious excitement churning in her stomach. The realization that she was about to completely sacrifice her control to one of her captors was both terrifying and thrillingly strategic.

"Is the door locked?" Riley managed, her voice barely a rough whisper.

Armani ignored her, walking to a small counter where he retrieved a foil wrapper.

"Uhm, the door," Riley repeated, more insistent this time.

"No one dares come in," Armani stated, his eyes fixed on the preparation, dismissing her concern entirely.

Riley looked away, muttering under her breath, "But I did come in."

"Yes," Armani returned, turning back to face her, his gaze utterly possessive and chillingly devoid of tenderness. "That is why you deserve to be punished."

The word "punished" snapped Riley's head up, confusion giving way to a sudden jolt of fear. "What—"

Her protest died in her throat as she took in his completely naked form. Her eyes widened, momentarily distracted by the sheer size and presence of him.

"Will you keep staring, or are you going to undress?" he demanded.

Riley quickly nodded, her bravado momentarily overshadowed by the reality of the moment. She shed her own clothes until she was as exposed and vulnerable as he was.

Armani wasted no time. He moved over her, his eyes cold and focused, and in the next instant, the intense pressure began. Riley’s eyes squeezed shut tightly, a gasp escaping her lips at the sudden, unfamiliar, and overwhelming sensation. Tears pricked at her eyes, rolling silently down her temples.

Armani stopped, letting out a frustrated groan. "God, you are so tight, I can’t even move." His gaze dropped to her face, noticing the tears and the tightly shut eyes. "First time?" he asked, his voice losing some of its edge, though not its hardness.

Riley could only nod, looking at him through her blurry, tear-filled eyes.

A muscle twitched in Armani’s jaw. The momentary flicker of uncertainty was quickly suppressed, replaced by his characteristic coldness. He leaned down, his face close to hers, the scent of smoke and musk surrounding her.

"I will give you time to adjust," Armani stated.

A few minutes later, as the initial shock subsided, Riley let out a low, involuntary sound as her body began to respond. That was the only signal Armani needed. He started to move within her, beginning slow and shallow, asserting his rhythm and control over the new sensation. Riley squeezed her eyes shut again, focusing on the dark thrill of manipulating the strongest brother, even as her body was entirely commanded by his raw force.

The intense pressure was a brutal awakening, stealing the air from her lungs. Riley’s body arched involuntarily, a gasp tearing from her throat, raw and unbidden. It wasn't gentle; it was a force, a statement, a punishment delivered with the unyielding precision of a predator. The sudden, deep invasion stretched her, a searing, unfamiliar fullness that made her teeth clench. Her eyes squeezed shut, but the darkness behind her lids was filled with flashing lights, the shockwaves reverberating through her core.

Armani’s breath hitched, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he began to move. His rhythm was relentless, primal, defying her initial resistance. There was no coaxing, no exploration, just the deep, driving thrust of his body into her wet, yielding heat. Each impact was a jolt, a physical manifestation of his dominance, reminding her with every brutal plunge of the power he wielded. Her hands, still free, instinctively clawed at the sheets, then found purchase on his muscled shoulders, digging in as if to anchor herself against the storm.

"You wanted to play," Armani rasped, his voice thick with exertion, his lips brushing her ear, "now you get to learn the rules." His hips slammed into hers, a violent, possessive claim that sent a fresh wave of sensation, both sharp pain and burgeoning arousal, through her. Riley’s strategic mind struggled to keep pace with the onslaught, the carefully constructed walls of her composure threatening to crumble under the sheer, unadulterated force of him filling her completely.

He seized her hips, his grip bruisingly tight, and lifted her slightly, tilting her body to maximize the depth of the friction. The slick, wet sound of their bodies colliding echoed in the small room, a raw, animalistic soundtrack to their violation. Armani never broke eye contact, his gaze holding her captive in the intensity of his rage and desire.

"Look at me, Riley," he demanded, his voice a gravelly command. "See what you did."

The words fueled his movements. He drove into her faster, harder, the sensation escalating rapidly from overwhelming shock to a desperate, needy response. Riley's strategic control shattered. A moan tore from her throat, louder and more urgent than she intended, a sound of pure, helpless surrender. Her hips began to move instinctively, meeting his force with a frantic need for more.

Her nails scored his back, leaving angry red welts, a testament to the ferocity of the moment. She felt herself teetering on the edge, the line between pleasure and pain blurring into an intoxicating haze.

Armani’s breathing grew ragged, his jaw clenched, the veins in his neck standing out in stark relief. The intensity was rapidly reaching a fever pitch. He suddenly pulled back, his eyes dark and wild, yanking himself free with a sharp, wet sound.

Riley gasped at the sudden, agonizing withdrawal, her body instantly cold and empty. Before she could protest, Armani was hovering over her, his chest heaving, his powerful arousal straining and twitching above her stomach.

"This is mine," he growled, the warning carrying a possessive weight that settled deep in her bones.

With a final, guttural roar that seemed to tear from the very depths of his being, Armani released himself. A thick, hot torrent erupted from him, showering violently over her lower abdomen and the taut skin of her thighs.

Riley watched, breathless and wide-eyed, as the white, viscous evidence of his release splattered against her skin, a searingly intimate and utterly dominating conclusion. He didn’t touch her, didn’t apologize, but simply stood there for a long moment, utterly spent, his shadow covering her like a threat.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his dark eyes still burning with a complex mix of anger and triumph. "That," he stated, his voice low and devoid of warmth, "is the price of crossing me."

Riley wondered what she had gotten herself into by having s*x with Armani