I try not to react, but it’s impossible. My body arches slightly into his palm like it’s starving too. Every part of me that’s been numb flickers back to life. He curses again, louder this time, and pinches my nipple. Just once at first, then again and again like it’s addictive.

Like I’m his and I could never belong to anyone else.

My thighs squeeze together, instinctive and aching for more of this. Heat licks up my spine. My knees threaten to buckle. No one’s ever touched me like this and I should stop him.

I should shove him away. Call him cruel. Tell him he doesn’t deserve this, not after leaving me broken. Instead, I stand there and let him burn me alive. Riven’s jaw flexes, his eyes glued to where his fingers are rolling and pulling and exploring me like he’s trying to memorize the feeling with every nerve in his body.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

He doesn’t smile. Instead, he looks tortured. His hand trembles. Just barely. But I feel it.

Something tightens in my chest. He’s not just unhinged, he’s unraveling and I’m the reason for it.

My body trembles, and I hate that I still want him this badly. That I still need him to look at me like this. Like I belong to him. Like no one else even exists.

“You need to know that I came here for two reasons,” he says, voice strained. His hand slides down, trailing heat across my stomach, stopping at the waistband of my panties. “To get you and to end every person who kept us apart.”

I flinch. “Where did you go?”

He looks up, eyes burning into mine. “I’ll explain everything when it’s the right time. You’re still mine, Lakynn. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. You won’t win.”

My voice cracks when I cry out, “You left me. I thought I meant nothing.”

His face contorts with something like anguish. “You’re the only thing that’s ever meant anything.”

His fingers press just slightly against the front of my panties, and I let out a sound that can only be described as half gasp, half moan.

“Don’t,” I whisper, breathless. “Riven.”

But part of me is lying because my core pulses for him. I want to feel his skin against mine.

He leans in, mouth brushing against my hairline, and I lean my hands on his shoulders. His voice is ragged, low, broken. “You have no idea how much I’m restraining myself right now.” He cups my pussy before groaning out the words, “Tell me you missed me, baby. Tell me you missed me the way I missed you.”

I whimper.

I should stop him.

I should hate him.