KINKTOBER #3 SUNKEN AND SPELLBOUND / Mattheo Riddle

KINKTOBER #3– SUNKEN AND SPELLBOUND / mattheo riddle

october 8th breath play , slight blood play , outdoor intimacy

part one part two

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: mattheo’s drawn to the siren he met at the black lake. so drawn, in fact, that he’d let her claim him.

warnings: siren!reader, reader mostly takes control, unprotected piv, blood play, breath play, reader kind of almost drowns mattheo a few times (he’s fine), outdoor sex, oral (m receiving), 18+ content

words: 5.5k (smut starts after a little bit of plot)

a/n: sorry this was posted a day late…. anyways i’d appreciate if you read part 1 first!!

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Recklessness was not unfamiliar to Mattheo Riddle; it was practically second nature. It clung to him like a shadow, a constant companion in his pursuit of the unknown. But as he plunged into the icy, unforgiving depths of the Black Lake, even he felt the weight of his decision.

The cold pierced his skin, seeping into his bones as the Black Lake swallowed him whole, its inky depths tightening around his chest like a vice. Yet, the deeper he sank, the more alive he felt. The water muffled the world above, leaving only the beat of his heart and the pull of something darker, more magnetic, beneath the surface

The biting chill clawed at his skin, but none of it mattered—not the cold, not the darkness surrounding him—because you were right there, your presence burning like a beacon in the depths.

You stared at him in disbelief as he floated in front of you, your mouth slightly open as if you hadn't expected him to follow through. But he had. Of course he had.

He surfaced again, shivering but with no regrets as he stared at you. Your eyes widened in shock as he swam closer, the cold surrounding him but doing nothing to diminish the heat burning inside him.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with both awe and fear.

“I’m here,” he said, closing the distance between you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the cold tightened its grip on him. “I’m with you.”

You stared at him, and for a moment, he thought he saw something break in you, a crack in the armor you wore so tightly. But before he could say anything more, before he could reach for you again, you moved.

With a soft gasp, you dipped beneath the water, disappearing into the depths as though trying to escape him, trying to protect him from the monster you believed yourself to be. Mattheo’s heart clenched as he watched you go, the water swallowing you whole.

But he didn’t stop. Without hesitation, he plunged beneath the surface after you, the icy cold stealing his breath as he kicked down, following the faint shimmer of your form in the dark water. His lungs burned, the pressure building with every second, but all he could focus on was the blurred outline of you just ahead.

And then, suddenly, you were there. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, your bodies suspended in the dark water. His eyes were closed in on your tail, your pearlescent skin, as if he couldn’t believe such a vision of beauty could ever be real. You stared at him, wide-eyed, your chest rising and falling as if you couldn’t believe he had followed you this far.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

And then your lips were on his.

The world around him dissolved. The cold, the darkness, the water—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that existed was the press of your lips against his, the taste of salt and cold, the electric connection that surged through his veins like fire.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. The kiss was desperate, hungry, filled with the kind of longing that felt like it had been buried for centuries, waiting to be unleashed. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the water swirled around you both, the world above forgotten. His lungs screamed for air, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't. This was everything he'd been waiting for, everything he hadn't even realized he needed.

But as the need for air clawed at Mattheo’s chest, a panic began to unfurl. The world around him blurred, the darkness closing in. He pressed one final kiss to your lips, a silent promise hanging in the air, before he tried to pull away, desperation coursing through him.

But you didn’t let him go.

In an instant, the heat of the moment shifted. Your grip tightened around his wrist and he felt you pull him deeper. The instinct to fight surged within him, battling against a rush of fear. He thrashed against you, confusion mixing with dread. This wasn’t the girl he had kissed moments ago—the one who had seemed so vulnerable, so full of life. No, this was something else. This was your true nature, and it terrified him.

With a surge of adrenaline, he brought his hand to your face, desperate to reach the girl he knew was still there beneath the surface. Your eyes flickered for a moment, the predatory gaze breaking, revealing a glimpse of terror and guilt. But it was fleeting, lost in the depths of your siren instincts.

The realization crashed over him, mixing with the burning sensation in his chest. You were fighting against it, battling your own nature, but he could feel you slipping further away. He thrashed harder, panic flooding his system as he tried to push past the instinctive fear that clawed at him.

Then, as if you sensed his desperation, your focus shifted. The guilt flashed in your eyes again, and you acted instinctively. You wrapped your arms around him, propelling both of you upward, your strength overcoming his flailing movements.

When you broke the surface, Mattheo gasped, lungs burning as he inhaled the fresh air, each breath like a lifeline. He could feel you beside him, but the panic lingered, a raw edge of terror.

With a sudden burst of power, you pulled him forward, your body gliding through the shallows. You dragged him onto the muddy shore, tail splashing against the dirt as you clumsily crawled onto land. Mattheo lay gasping, his breath ragged as he fought to calm the storm of emotions within him.

“Why?! Why would you do that?!” you screamed, your fear for him coming out in anger. “You could have drowned!” you continued, the anger spilling over. “You could have died!”

Mattheo's chest heaved as he struggled to find his breath, his heart pounding with the remnants of panic, but there was no regret. He felt it as sure as the ground beneath him—solid and real—just like the girl lying beside him, your chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. The damp earth clung to your skin, your once-sleek tail now replaced by legs, though they shimmered in the dim light, pearlescent scales still clinging to your thighs as if they, too, couldn’t fully let go of the water.

You looked wild, like you belonged to the night itself, hair wet and clinging to your face. Slowly, he dragged his gaze up from your scales, following the soft curve of your legs and up to your face, the moonlight casting delicate shadows across your features. You were otherworldly—beautiful in a way that words couldn’t capture, a creature that belonged to the deep, dark waters. But you were also something more, something terrifyingly human in this moment, lying beside him in the dirt, torn between two worlds.

You didn’t look at him, your breath still uneven as you stared at your legs, your hands brushing across the silvery scales as if you could wipe them away, banish them along with the instincts that had nearly overtaken you. He could see it—the guilt, the fear of what you’d almost done. Of what you still could do.

He shifted, dirt sticking to his damp clothes as he sat up, still watching you with a mix of awe and something deeper, something that twisted in his chest. He didn’t want to look away—couldn’t look away.

Your eyes flickered toward him then, and for the briefest moment, something vulnerable and raw flashed across your face. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a hard edge of anger, but Mattheo had seen it. You were terrified—not of him, but of yourself.

“I’m fine,” he finally said, voice rough but steady as he tried to calm you, to reassure you. But the words did little to ease the tension in you. You weren't fine. Neither of you were.

Your lips parted again, your breath shaky, but you didn’t speak. Not yet. Instead, you pushed yourself up, knees sinking into the dirt, and turned your gaze back to the lake, your expression torn between longing and dread. The water still called to you, still tempted you to return. Mattheo saw it in the way your body tensed, the way your fingers curled into fists.

“You don’t have to go,” he wanted to say, but he held the words back, unsure if that was what you needed to hear. Slowly, you moved. You turned back toward him, your eyes locking onto his.

“You shouldn’t have followed me.” Your voice was quiet, hoarse, but it carried a weight that hit him square in the chest. “You don’t understand... what could’ve happened.”

He swallowed hard, his throat still raw, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t care.”

Your brows furrowed, frustration flashing in your eyes, but underneath it, he could see the fear—the guilt eating away at you. “You don’t get it, Mattheo. I could’ve killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

Your hands curled into the dirt at your sides, knuckles whitening as you fought whatever battle was raging inside of you. “I almost did.”

He leaned forward, his hand reaching out to touch you, but he stopped just short of your skin, waiting. “But you didn’t.”

Your gaze snapped to his, wide and desperate, as if you didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Why did you go in the water?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Why do you keep coming back?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he said, and his voice was so quiet, so raw, that he barely recognized it as his own.

Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his, something fragile breaking apart between you. Mattheo leaned closer, the dirt beneath him grounding him as he closed the distance between you. He could feel the warmth radiating off you, a tantalizing contrast to the cool night air. Your eyes widened slightly, but there was no fear in them, only a mixture of uncertainty and something that felt like yearning.

He captured your lips again, his heart racing at the sensation, the intoxicating taste of you lingering on his tongue. He couldn't shake the thrill that coursed through him, the twisted attraction that tugged at his core.

You had almost drowned him, and yet here he was, completely captivated. It was almost sickening, how easily you pulled him in. The girl who haunted his thoughts, the one he barely knew but felt closer to than anyone else.

"I want you so fucking bad, Y/N," he breathed against your lips, the words spilling out before he could hold them back.

Your breath hitched, eyes flickering with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that resonated within him. "Mattheo..."

"You're so fucking beautiful, you don't understand,” he mumbled desperately, a man reduced to a pathetic mess of need. "I can't stay away from you. I can't. You haunt me.”

The truth of it crashed over him like a wave, pulling him under once more. You were a siren, and he was lost in your song.

"Let me have this," he urged, voice low and intense, a plea wrapped in desperation. "Just for tonight."

"I don't want to hurt you," you whispered.

"I trust you," he replied, his conviction strong. It was a risk, he knew that, but every moment spent away from you felt like torture. "I won't let fear stop me."

The night was eerily still, save for the soft rippling of the Black Lake lapping against the shore. The weight of your lips on his made Mattheo's pulse hammer against his skin. You were intoxicating, your every breath, every touch, pulling him deeper into your web.

Your control over him was palpable. Mattheo was used to having the upper hand, used to getting what he wanted, but not here—not with you. Your kiss was laced with dominance, your siren nature swirling in the air between you, wrapping around his limbs like invisible chains. You toyed with him, your lips a whisper away, teasing him with just enough contact to drive him wild but never fully giving him what he craved.

When you finally pulled away, the cold night air rushed between you, making the heat of your body even more tantalizing. Your fingers, delicate yet undeniably strong, trailed along the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He leaned forward again, wanting more, needing you closer, but you held him back, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You leaned in close, your breath brushing his ear. "Do you trust me?" you whispered, your voice a soft, dangerous melody.

"I... I do," he breathed, the words slipping out before he could think. He wasn't sure if they were true, but something about you-wild and untamed-made him powerless to resist.

Before he could react, your hand pressed against his chest, and with a forceful shove, he was falling backward into the freezing water. The shock seized his lungs, the icy grip of the lake wrapping around him. His mind screamed for air, but before he could surface, you were on him, pushing his upper body down into the shallow water.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you kissed him fiercely beneath the surface. The cold water closed in from every angle, heightening the heat of your lips against his.

Every nerve sparked with sensation, the icy water and the warmth of your body creating a whirlwind of contrasts.

But then the burn in his lungs began. He tried to pull away, desperate for air, but you held him there, hands tightening, nails grazing his scalp as you deepened the kiss. A thrill coursed through him, mingling with fear, as his body struggled beneath you, thrashing against the weight of your grip.

And just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, you pulled him to the surface.

He gasped, breaking through the water, chest heaving as he sucked in air. But with the fear ebbing, something else took its place-a need, an aching want for more. He wanted you. All of you.

Your voice, soft and hypnotic, drifted to his ears. "I told you I could be dangerous," you whispered, your lips grazing his ear like a secret only for him.

He turned, breath still shaky, but his voice steady. "Then be dangerous," he growled, hands already reaching for you again.

Your eyes darkened with something untamed, and a wicked smile curved your lips. Without warning, you shoved him back under the water. This time, he didn't resist.

When your lips claimed his again, it was a collision of heat and desperation, a kiss that left no room for gentleness. He matched your ferocity, his teeth grazing yours, tongues battling as his need for air warred with his need for you.

When he surfaced again, he was met with your soft laughter-low, teasing, full of dark delight. "You're reckless, Mattheo," you teased, eyes gleaming. "What would you do without me?"

"Maybe I wouldn't need saving if you let me breathe," he shot back, the tension between you palpable.

"Do you want to breathe?" you challenged, your voice dipping into something more sensual. "Or do you want to drown?"

A slow grin spread across his face, his gaze locking onto yours with an almost obsessive hunger. "Both," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "I want to drown in you."

He surged forward, crashing his lips into yours. His hands roamed over your body, rough and insistent, nails digging into your skin. You responded in kind, your claws extending, raking through his shirt and leaving lines of crimson across his chest.

Pain mixed with pleasure, every sensation more vivid in the cool water. He shuddered as blood began to trickle from the fresh cuts, staining the surface of the lake. You licked your lips, eyes gleaming as you eyed the crimson marks with a predatory hunger.

"You taste exquisite," you purred, your tongue flicking out to lap at the wounds. He groaned, head falling back, every touch sending fire through his veins.

Your hands traced the lines of his body, lingering on the fresh marks, each touch claiming him, marking him as yours. When your lips found his again, they were tinged with the taste of his own blood, the mix of salt and copper intoxicating.

You pushed him back onto the bank, your body pressing down on his, pinning him beneath you. Your hair fell like a curtain around him, the world disappearing, leaving just the two of you-raw, primal, and connected.

You kissed him with a hunger that was more than physical, a need that was both possessive and intimate. He held you close, his fingers tangling in your hair, anchoring himself to you as you devoured him.

When you finally pulled back, leaving him gasping, you trailed your lips down his throat, pausing to nip at his pulse. "You're mine," you whispered against his skin, the words vibrating through him. "Every breath, every drop of blood... it's all mine."

Then, slowly, you shifted, fingers deftly working at the fastenings of his trousers, your gaze never leaving his, the connection between you deepening with every beat of his heart.

Mattheo gasped, his breath catching in his throat as your fingers grazed over the hardness straining beneath his trousers. His chest rose and fell in quick succession, eyes locked with yours, the promise of what was to come thick in the air. There was a tenderness in the way you teased him, your claws leaving faint, stinging trails on his skin-not meant to hurt, but to remind him he was yours.

"I want you to beg," you whispered, your lips hovering over his, your words filled with more emotion than threat. "I want to hear you ask for me."

His chest tightened at your touch, not just from the sensation, but from the overwhelming need for connection. There was a flicker of something in your eyes— something more than lust. Slowly, deliberately, you hooked your claws into the waistband of his trousers, peeling them away from his body with excruciating slowness. The cool night air brushed over his exposed skin, but it wasn't the cold that made him tremble.

It was you.

You looked at him, really looked at him, your eyes drinking in every inch of him like he was something to be cherished. Your fingers, delicate yet firm, wrapped around his aching length. The featherlight touch had him arching into your hand, but you kept your movements maddeningly slow, savoring every reaction as though it mattered.

"Please..." Mattheo's voice cracked, his pride crumbling under the weight of his desire. But more than that, there was something in his tone—something raw, vulnerable. “Fuck,” he whispered

A smile tugged at your lips, but it was softer this time, touched with affection. "Oh, I intend to," you murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh. Your lips lingered there, warm and gentle against his skin, the contrast to your earlier dominance making his heart pound harder.

You lavished attention on his tip, circling your thumb around his slit as he found the urge to thrust up into your fist.

“Give me more,” he choked out, his voice raw with need and desperation. “Please.”

His breath hitched when your mouth finally hovered over him, the warmth of your breath against his sensitive flesh sending shivers down his spine. But when you took him in your mouth, he felt like he was about to implode.

Mattheo's hands fisted in the dirt, his body going rigid as he fought the instinct to push you deeper, to lose himself in the wet heat of your mouth; but you were in control.

Mattheo threw his head back with a guttural moan, his hips jerking involuntarily as you bobbed up and down his length. The wet heat of your mouth engulfed him, your tongue fluttering along the underside, hitting that spot that made his vision go white.

Your mouth moved with practiced precision, and every flick of your tongue sent him spiraling deeper into pleasure. He could feel the tightness building in his stomach, the desire overwhelming him as he fought to maintain his composure. He didn’t understand how you seemed to know him, know his body, in a way no one else ever had.

His voice came out ragged, filled with more than just desire. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"You're so fucking perfect," Mattheo breathed, the words slipping out before he could catch them, raw and unfiltered. His eyes fluttered shut as you continued your slow torment, his body tightening with every teasing stroke. He could feel himself teetering on the edge of bliss, so close to losing control-until, with a wicked smile, you pulled away.

The cold air hit his overheated skin, a sharp contrast that left him gasping. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours as you simply looked up at him with that maddeningly innocent smile.

"You don't get to finish yet," you whispered, amusement lacing your voice as your hand moved lazily over him, keeping him right there on the edge, denying him the release he craved. It drove him wild.

"Y/N..." His voice was hoarse, rough with desperation, but you only laughed softly, leaning down to press a kiss just below his navel, your lips brushing against his skin like a promise.

"You'll take what I give you," you commanded softly, and the words sent a shudder through him.

Something in him snapped. With a growl, Mattheo flipped you onto your back, his larger frame pinning you beneath him. His breath came hot and fast against your cheek as his intense gaze locked onto yours, the air between you charged with unspoken challenge.

"You think you can toy with me? Make me beg, then deny me?" he growled, the words low, full of dark promise.

You smirked, leaning back as the moonlight caught the delicate scales still faint on your legs, your eyes flashing. "You think you're in control here, Mattheo?"

His grin was predatory as he grasped your wrists, pinning them firmly above your head. "Let's find out," he murmured, his voice dangerous, sending a thrill through you. He relished in the way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched, your lips parting in surprise.

With deliberate slowness, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You've been playing games, love... but now, it's my turn."

You gasped, your heart pounding as his grip tightened, pinning both your wrists above your head. The thrill of helplessness, mixed with the burning desire coursing through you, made your pulse race. "Please," you whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Mattheo's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "You'll have to be more specific," he teased, savoring the sight of you-flushed, desperate, teetering on the brink.

"Don't make me say it," you mumbled, but his smile only grew, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing near-kiss. The tension between you felt like it could snap at any second.

"Tell me what you want," he urged softly, his voice like silk, smooth and coaxing. "Beg for it."

Your heart warred with your pride, but the aching need between your legs won.

"Please... I need you inside me. I need to feel you."

His eyes darkened, satisfaction rolling through him as he released your wrists, his hands sliding down your sides with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch of you. In one swift motion, he flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him.

"Take what you need," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands trembled as you reached down, feeling his length throb against your palm. With a slow, deliberate motion, you tugged your panties to the side and guided him to your entrance, teasing both of you with the anticipation.

Mattheo's low groan reverberated through the night air, his fingers gripping your hips as he felt your heat envelop him. "Fuck... you feel incredible," he breathed, his eyes locked on yours, a fire burning in their depths.

Slowly, inch by inch, you sank down onto him, the delicious stretch and fullness making your head spin, both of you caught in the intensity of the moment.

Mattheo's grip on your hips tightened as you sank down fully, his thick length filling you completely. For a moment, you both savored the intimate connection, reveling in how perfectly your bodies fit together.

Then, you began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that made his head spin.

"F- fuck," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you ride him. "You—god, you're perfect."

With every thrust, he bucked up to meet you, driving deeper into your slick heat. The intoxicating sensation of being filled by him made you crave more, and you quickened your pace, chasing that elusive peak of pleasure.

"Oh, fuck... you feel incredible," he groaned, his hands roaming over your curves, tugging your bra down to tease your nipples and squeezing your ass. Each rough caress ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

Suddenly, he surged upward, pressing soft kisses along your neck, whispering apologies for the bites he left behind.

But you broke away, a playful glint in your eyes. "You want to play?" you purred, your voice sultry and inviting. "Let's see how long you can hold your breath."

With that, you pushed him underwater, testing his limits as you continued to ride him, denying him air.

Beneath the surface, Mattheo's body went rigid, panic flaring in his eyes. But even as desperation clawed at him, the pressure of your sex against his throbbing cock sent jolts of pleasure through him, heightening his desire despite the urgency of his situation.

His mind raced, desperate for a way to breathe, but the overwhelming sensations stole his willpower. As the need for air grew unbearable, he surrendered, succumbing to the intoxicating pull of your body.

Just as his vision began to blur, signaling blackout, you finally pulled him up. He gasped for air, clinging to you like a lifeline. "Shit, Y/N," he panted, voice shaky with relief and lingering arousal. "You're going to kill me."

Mattheo's chest heaved as he gulped in air, heart racing wildly. "You're insane," he gasped, a mix of awe and disbelief coloring his tone.

"Absolutely fucking insane."

Yet even as he spoke, he knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here, lost in the depths of your daring game.

His hands slid up your slick skin, resting on your hips as he pulled you flush against him, grinding his hardness against your aching core. "I told you a million times. I’m not scared of you.”

A wicked smile curved your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "That’s why I like you," you purred, tracing a finger along his jawline before gripping his chin firmly.

With a sudden yank, you wrenched his head back, exposing the delicate column of his throat. Your teeth sank into the tender flesh, marking him as yours, and he let out a guttural moan, the pain blending seamlessly with the pleasure radiating between you.

"You wanted me to be dangerous, didn't you?" you taunted, nipping and sucking at his pulse point. "Is this what you imagined?"

Mattheo could only whimper in response, his cock twitching inside you as you found a particularly sensitive spot.

"No," he managed to choke out, voice strained with a heady mix of pain and ecstasy. "It's better. So much fucking better."

Mattheo's hands gripped your waist tightly, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to retain control. But with every wicked twist of your hips and sharp nip of your teeth, his resolve crumbled, surrendering to the relentless waves of pleasure crashing over him.

"More," he pleaded, his eyes wild and desperate. "Please, Y/N. I can take it."

His desperate plea ignited a primal hunger within you, a desire to push him further and test the limits of his endurance.

With a feral growl, you released his throat, your mouth trailing down to his collarbone, biting and sucking the soft skin there. You quickened your pace, riding him with abandon, your inner walls clenching around his pulsing cock.

Mattheo arched beneath you, a hoarse cry escaping his lips as he neared the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N! I'm gonna-"

You silenced him with another brutal bite, your teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. The coppery taste fueled your frenzy, driving you to ride him harder, faster, determined to prolong his pleasure.

A wicked smirk curled your lips at his plea, and you obliged with sadistic delight.

Gripping his hair, you forced his head back, exposing more of his throat to your merciless attentions. Each bite left its mark, and you reveled in the way his body trembled beneath you.

"Look at you," you purred, voice laced with disdain. "So weak, so desperate."

Mattheo's face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure, tears welling in his eyes as he struggled to process the overwhelming sensations. "I'm not—mmnph… not weak. I'm just—fuck! Letting you have your fun."

You leaned in closer, your hot breath ghosting over his ear. "Is that so? Then why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

He shook his head, fighting through the haze of pleasure. "Because you're torturing me," he groaned, a hint of admiration threading through his voice. "Not because I'm weak."

"Whatever you say. Keep telling yourself that."

As if to emphasize your point, you resumed your relentless pace, riding him with renewed vigor. The wet slap of flesh echoed through the air, punctuated by Mattheo's ragged gasps and moans.

Suddenly, his hips bucked erratically, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise as his orgasm crashed over him. "Fuck, Y/N!" he cried, back arching off the dirt, waves of pleasure consuming him.

But you showed no mercy, riding him through the aftershocks. The sensation of his pulsing cock combined with the overstimulation of his release was almost unbearable, yet you persisted, driven by an insatiable need for your own peak.

"Shut up," you snapped, pushing his head back under the water when he tried to speak. "I'm not done with you yet."

Mattheo's mind spun as you rode him mercilessly, ignoring his spent state. The water filled his lungs, darkness creeping into his vision, yet he clung to consciousness, enduring the exquisite torture.

His body jerked beneath you, overwhelmed by the relentless friction and the knowledge that you wouldn't stop until you wrung every last ounce of pleasure from him. Despite the desperation, a twisted thrill surged through him at the sheer depravity of it all.

He could feel you tightening, your movements growing erratic as you neared your own climax. The thought of bringing you over the edge fueled his fading strength.

You gasped through gritted teeth, your pace frantic as you chased your release.

Mattheo felt your walls clenching around him, pressure building to a breaking point.

With a final, brutal thrust, you slammed down onto him, crying out as your orgasm tore through you. Your body convulsed, milking his spent cock for every last drop as you ground against him.

Even as the waves of pleasure ebbed, you remained impaled on him, your weight pressing him into the dirt as you caught your breath. Mattheo lay there, dazed and utterly spent, wondering if he'd ever be able to move again.

As you slowly regained your breath, your heart still racing from the intensity of your release, you looked down at him. The moonlight danced on his skin, illuminating the wild, desperate hunger in his eyes. There was something intoxicating about the way he gazed up at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“You meant it,” you whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. “When you told me that you weren’t afraid to drown”

His breath came in ragged gasps, and the truth hung in the air between you. “No,” he admitted, voice hoarse. “Maybe I just want to be near you, guppy.”

That drew an unexpected, breathy laugh from your lips as you stared down at him, trying to process that he was real.

“Don’t call me that,” you mumbled.

“Whatever you say, guppy.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @sleepiibunniiii @chemtrailsoverhogwarts @daenerystorgaryen @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

Run Your Mouth - Mattheo Riddle

Summary: Your relationship with Mattheo might not be the healthiest in every way, but you're in far too deep to do anything about it.

Based on: Run Your Mouth - The Marias

TW: not proofread, implied spiciness (MDNI)

Dark brown eyes stared back at you, eyebrows raised ludicrously with inquisition. Awaiting your response, waiting for you to do, say anything. But the fact of the matter was, you had shut down as you sat on a trunk of Quidditch balls, eyes lulling, head empty.

It was a vicious cycle.

You would do something (or supposedly do something) that piqued Mattheo's jealousy, he would get upset and avoid you for a day or two - depending on the "severity", only to come back to you when he thought fit, mostly to give you a piece of his mind. Usually (always) ending the night undressed, limbs entangled, hands caressing soft skin in his Slytherin green bed sheets. Kisses and whispered apologies filling momentary silences, the soft candle glow lit up the stone walls of his dorm room - as if nothing had happened.

Currently, he was awaiting the answer as to why you had let Graham Montague pick up the scarf for you that you had been wearing, the scarf the wind had wisped away from you as you sat watching Mattheo during his quidditch practice - the scarf (which was Mattheo's) that he gave you to wear, marking you as his girl.

You'd never seen him hop off that broom so fast to hustle your way, grabbing your arm and pulling you to the broom shed with haste. Where you still happened to be - adjusting your seat on the uncomfortable trunk, wishing you were anywhere but here at the moment, as he hissed his disbelief of Graham. "What makes him think he can do that? And why did you look so okay with it?" He shook his head.

He continued his ranting as he paced back and forth inside the rickety old broom shed, drafts of wind howling through the cracks between each wooden board that still stood it's ground.

You watched quietly, letting him get it all out - your thoughts wandering, anything from tomorrow's herbology exam, what would be for dinner, weekend plans, to how wanton the sweat on his brow had made you feel inside. Memories of your fingers swiping the damp hair that stuck to his forehead as he readjusted his position between your thighs, looking down at you in assurance.

Shaking your head of the thought, he kneeled in front you - clearly winded from his long, one-sided conversation. Rough, wind-chapped hands grabbing his own scarf from your hands, wrapping it around your neck, before he tightened it ever so slightly - pulling your face down to meet his. "So?" He asks, his warm breath creeping across your lips, eyes locked on yours.

"You talk too much." You quip with a soft sigh, a smirk growing on your face - only to be mirrored on his face, a tut leaving his lips before he leaned in capturing yours in a deep, craved kiss.

NO BODY, NO CRIME

EPISODE 01: dinner and a glass of wine

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: the christmas holidays have just begun, but still a threatening atmosphere lies in the air. and you can act, you find yourself at a crime scene

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, (small) jump-scare

note: hello guys, welcome to the first episode of no body, no crime!! i’m so excited for this series and hope you enjoy it as much as i do!! the next episode is coming out next monday!! let me know what you think in the comments <333

the soft tunes of christmas music filled the air around you. the great hall was less filled than normal, most of the students deciding to go home for the holidays. 

"can you pass me the potatoes, please?" ron's red hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the fairylights behind him. the auburn sweater he was wearing was highlighting the contrast even more. 

"here" hermione said, holding the bowl across the table, as ron eagerly grabbed it. 

"where's ginny?" harry muttered. he had his nose buried in a book about quidditch techniques you had bought in hogsmeade. he had been busy studying it all night, but apparently not busy enough to not notice ginny's absence. 

"she's sitting with luna" you pointed out, as your eyes glided along the slytherin table. ginny and her had grown closer since the beginning of the year and you had to admit that you had quickly taken a liking to the blonde girl. she was a bit strange, admittedly, but lovely none the less. 

"she's been busy all year" ron muttered, mouth filled to the brim. "seems like we've gotten too boring for her"

"allow your sister to have her own friends" hermione shoke her head. "and for gods sake, please close your mouth, ronald."

despite the approaching festivity, the atmosphere in the hall was eerie. maybe because only a few people were sitting at eachs house table, making the hall seem weirdly out of place. 

the slytherin table was by far the emptiest. probably because most purblooded and traditional wizard families made a hail mary out of everything that would allow a party, showing off their wealth and status. 

the only thing that contradicted this assumption was that several children from the most influential pureblood families had chosen to stay. your gaze swept across the table, taking in each one in turn.

draco malfoy, displaying a usual attitude of displeasurement. you guessed that the malfoy weren't the people to listen to christmas music around the holidays. 

next to him, blaise zabini, who was munching on mouth full portion of potatoes just like ron was. 

across from them and her back facing the rest of the hall, including your line of sight, pansy parkinson, the perfect cut bob of black hair, moving slightly everytime she turned her head to the side, as she attentively listened to what draco was telling her. 

a few feet away, mattheo riddle and lorenzo berkshire were quietly discussing something. it looked somewhat urgent, as both of them leaned over the table top, and not even mattheo, whose face you could see, wore his usual smirk. 

just before you were able to wonder about his absence, you noticed theo nott walk into the hall. he looked just like always, messy curls falling onto his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and that face, that made every thought in your head disappear. 

not that you liked any of them, but theo had always been your favorite. he was a true slytherin. cunning, loyal and determined. even though he had reason enough, there was no arrogant bone in his body. 

you had liked him from the first time you had talked to him last year, when snape had coupled you up for a potions project. he had not even been as pretentious as you had thought he was, considering he was always hanging around with malfoy. 

but theo was nice, actually nice. 

"hello?" ron's voice was so sudden, you knocked over the cup of pumpkin juice beside you. 

hermione cleaned the juice off of the table with a simple flick of her wand, as she rolled her eyes at your distractedness. 

"what?" you wondered. 

"the cookies, please?" ron smiled and your expression turned sour when you noticed the pieces of potatoe stuck between his teeth. 

you nodded nonetheless and grabbed the plate of decorated christmas cookies. you took one for yourself, a delicious looking christmas tree, before you planted the whole plate in front of ron, knowing that he was gonna take one cookie after the other anyway. 

"i think we're good company" harry said, and while you weren't exactly sure what he was talking about, you nodded. 

"obviously we are" 

"i mean, she could've brought luna along, right?" he closed the quidditch book with a thud and crossed his arms. 

"ehh" you muttered. you were saved by the loud sound of the door, that flew open and revealed professor burbage. she walked up to the teachers table in a hurry, quickly excusing her late arrival, before she sat down next to dumbledore. 

you noticed the look of worry on her face and wondered what she was thinking about. 

“what’s gotten into her?” hermione asked and you were glad someone else had noticed the professor’s strange behaviour.

“everyone is stressed around christmas, right?” ron muttered without an ounce of interest. 

“i’m sure that’s it” harry nodded, glad that he could now shift the conversation back to it’s initial topic. “so, about ginny—“

“you’re mentioning her an awful lot, harry” you joked, enjoying how your brother’s face lost all it’s colour and his eyes darted between ron and you quickly. ron hadn’t even noticed the implication, if he had even listened to you in the first place. 

you could read the boredom from the redheads face as he rearranged the cookie plate, until it showed a little scene with a christmas tree, huge presents and two happy gingerbread man. 

you tuned the conversation out too, as harry continued to speak. you decided that it was hermiones turn to listen now. 

you rather turned your head to look at theo once more, who looked up at the very same time, probably feeling eyes on him. but he didn’t look in your direction, but to the teachers table. you furrowed your brows, before you followed his line of sight, your eyes ultimately landing on professor burbage. she looked just as worried as before, as she hectically looked between theo and something clutched in her hand. 

you looked back at theo, who simply rolled his eyes, averting his eyes from the teacher and focusing back on the untouched food beside him. draco muttered something in theo’s direction and the latter, barely reacted, managing only a weak smile, before his focus was gone again. 

you sighed, deciding you had spent enough time with your friends to leave without feeling bad. “i think i’m gonna head to bed” you smiled, standing up.

“oh” hermione simply noted. “should i accompany you?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine”. her offer was nice, but you wanted to be alone for some time. it was especially during times like these, that you most missed what other people had: a real family. you still had harry and you friends, but it was different from what you sometimes wished for. 

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow” you waved. ron, mouth filled brim, only waved back to your relief and harry nodded, muttering something about a game of chess ginny had promised. 

you headed out of the hall just a mere second later, pulling your sweater over your head, that you had taken off in the hall, because of the brizzling warmth of the fireplace at your back. you took the usual route to the tower. it was the place you often spend time at whenever you wanted to be alone. 

the stairs creaked loudly beneath each step you took, indicating how old the whole structure was. you walked across the wooden beams, leaning your body across the railing as you breathed in the cold of the air and your eyes wandered across the snow beneath you.

it was so calm up here, so silent.. until. the wood creaked loudly, indicating steps coming up towards you. your heart began beating faster, debating who could be coming up here. you had never ran across someone else at the tower.

maybe it was harry? you stepped closer to the stairs, expecting your brothers dark and messy hair to peak from the entrance, but it wasn’t harry who then stepped onto the plattform across from you.

“hey” theo nott muttered, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants while he looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“hey” you said, just as neutral. you tried to act casual, as he walked closer and you followed him back to the middle of the plattform, awkwardly standing next to each other. 

theo fished out a cigarette from his pocket. “is this okay?” he asked, poinint between the two of you. 

you furrowed your brows, confused what he was talking about, before you realized that he was probably asking about your permission to keep you company. “sure” you nodded and the lightened his cigarette. 

“you smoke?” he asked, holding the burning cigarette in your direction as if to offer you a blow.

you shoke your head, although you had to admit that he was intruiging to take a drag when a boy with such blue eyes was the one offering it. 

“do you come here often?” you asked softly, deciding it was more awkward to just stare at him in silence. 

“sometimes” theo shrugged. “they get exhausting, my friends i mean”

“yeah, mine too” you nodded. 

“wouldn’t have held you for a person that particuarly likes to be alone” theo muttered, before he turned his head, blowing the smoke out from his lips, without it hitting you. you appreciated the gesture. 

“it gets too much, sometimes” you shrugged. “i don’t mind to be alone”

“then you probably mind my company, huh?” he smirked, looking into your eyes with such sincerity.

“not at all” you shook your head, mirroring the smirk on his lips. “although i would prefer malfoy”

“oh shut up” theo laughed, his eyes glistened, almost surprised at the sudden joke. you felt proud that you had made him laugh, even if you had to mention malfoy for it. 

“i’m so sincere right now” you giggled, both of you not believing a word you were saying. 

theo threw down his cigarette, stomping on it, before he let it disappear with a flick of his wand. he looked up at you and opened his mouth, about to return a witty remark, when a loud bang rang out. 

you both froze at the sound, the laughter abruptly cut off as the echo of the bang bounced off the stone walls. the great hall felt miles away in that moment, and the air thickened with tension. theo’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern.

“what was that?” you whispered, instinctively taking a step closer to him. the sudden shift from light-hearted banter to fear sent a shiver down your spine.

“the door” theo muttered in recognition. the tower was right on top of the entryway to the castle. now that you thought about it, the bang did sound awfully like a heavy door falling close. 

“who would even go out there now?” you wondered, your heart still beating fast as the shock settled into your features.

“i don’t know” theo stepped away and closer to the staircase. “are you coming or what?”

you quickly nodded, as you followed him back down and through the corridor, before you froze in front of the door.

“maybe it was the wind” you suggested, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your uncertainty.

theo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism dancing in his gaze. “you really believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his expression alert.

“well, it’s possible,” you replied, though you didn’t sound convinced. the notion felt flimsy in the wake of the unsettling noise, and the creeping feeling of dread wasn’t fading.

“possible, sure,” he replied, “but it sounded too loud for the wind. we need to check it out. it could be something... important.”

your heart raced again, this time from a mix of fear and curiosity. “important? like what?” you asked, biting your lip.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, glancing back at the heavy wooden door. “but don’t you think we should at least look? it might be someone in trouble.”

you hesitated, looking back down the corridor where you could see flickers of light from the torches along the walls. “but what if it’s something dangerous?” you countered, feeling a rush of apprehension.

“better to know than to wonder,” he said, his tone serious yet gentle. there was a spark of determination in his eyes, and you found yourself drawn to his confidence. despite the risk, the thought of turning back felt more frightening than facing whatever lay beyond the door.

theo looked back at you once more, before he sighed and nodded, pushing the heavy door open. what revealed itself was the dark of the night, as snow fell into the entrance you were standing in, quickly cooling your face. 

“it’s too dark” theo noted. both of you took out your wands, using lumos to light the way. theo urged you to follow him. the snow was so heavy, that even the light of your wands did almost nothing. 

theo was just a few steps beside you, when you felt it. “theo” you whispered, as your body and heart froze simultaneously. “theo” you repeated, a bit louder. you could see the light of theo’s wand come closer again. he had heard you. 

“are you alright?” 

you shook your head, what he probably couldn’t see. you could only make out his body. “there is something there” 

“what do you mean?” 

“i’m feeling it against my foot” you muttered. “there is something on the ground. i’ll have to come closer to make out what it is” 

“be careful” theo held you hand to stabilize your body, as you kneeled down, moving the light of your wand across the object on the ground in front of you. it was dark, black robes, hiding something beneath them. but you just couldn’t make out what it was. 

then suddenly, you gasped in shock. your light glided over a face, mouth, nose dripping blood. wide eyes, opened in terror as they stared at you unmoving. you screamed, falling back into the snow, as theo surged forward, trying to catch you. 

“y/n!” he called, panic rising in his voice as you struggled to breathe, your heart racing wildly “what’s wrong? what is it?”

“professor burbage” you muttered, over and over again. 

“what?” theo leaned in closer, still holding onto you, his face drained of color.

“she’s dead!” you choked out, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the professor’s face, still staring up at you, frozen in her final moment of horror.

you heard theo gasp, his own breath faltering for a moment as he processed what lay before you both. without another word, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support your shaking body. “we have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with fear. with one hand, he held his wand forward, the dim light flickering in the swirling snow, while the other held onto you as you stumbled back toward the door.

the last thing you saw as the heavy door closed behind you was professor burbage’s body, half-buried in the snow, her lifeless eyes still staring, as if warning you of something far worse to come.

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𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞

fluff | Mattheo Riddle | 💙🫂🦋❄️| Masterlist | Taglist | requests are open

SUMMARY: Y/N demands Mattheo follow her without question, but he only responds with flirtation.

AUTHORS NOTE: Saw this bit of dialogue from the Book King of Sloth by Ana Huang on TikTok and it gave me Mattheo Vibes so wrote this.

The moon was high, casting a silvery light over the dense trees, shadows dancing ominously along the path. Y/N walked briskly ahead, her eyes set with determination, but her frustration was palpable. Mattheo Riddle trailed behind her, his usual smirk in place, clearly amused by her urgency.

"Where exactly are we going, princess?" Mattheo’s voice broke the silence, laced with that infuriating, cocky tone he always seemed to use.

Y/N didn't break her stride, her boots crunching against the forest floor. She threw a glare over her shoulder. "Just shut up and follow me."

Mattheo’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He sauntered after her with far less urgency, clearly entertained by her commanding tone. "Yes, ma’am. I love a woman in charge."

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she could practically feel them in the back of her skull. She didn’t bother responding, knowing he thrived on her irritation. He always had a way of getting under her skin, finding amusement in every little reaction she gave him.

"You know, if you wanted to boss me around, you could’ve just asked," Mattheo added, his voice low as he closed the distance between them. His hand brushed her arm as he fell into step beside her.

"Or," Y/N shot back, not slowing down, "you could just stop talking for once and actually do what you're told."

Mattheo chuckled softly, but said nothing more, the sound of his laughter lingering in the air between them. She could feel his eyes on her, that smirk probably still plastered on his face, but at least he was quiet now. Small victories.

They continued deeper into the forest, and though she’d never admit it, there was something oddly comforting about having him there. Even if he was a pain in the ass.

Tense

pairing - mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary - just a little massage with a happy ending

warnings - soft!mattheo, smut, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI

wordcount - 1k

As soon as you step into your dorm room, the weight of the day crashes down on you. Your body feels stiff, tense, and achingly tired, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget about the world for a while. But even as you kick off your shoes and toss your bag onto the floor, you know the stress will still cling to you, burrowing deep into your muscles.

Just as you’re about to let out a long, frustrated sigh, the door creaks open behind you. You glance over your shoulder to find Mattheo leaning against the frame, his dark eyes scanning your exhausted posture with a knowing smirk.

“Tough day?” he asks, voice low and smooth, the familiar rasp sending a shiver down your spine.

You let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through your hair. “You could say that.”

He steps inside, closing the door behind him as he watches you with that sharp gaze of his. But there’s something softer beneath it today, something that shows he’s not just here to tease you. He walks up behind you and rests his hands gently on your shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots of tension in your neck.

“You’re so tense,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Let me help.”

You tilt your head slightly, his touch already working its magic, but the exhaustion still weighs heavily on you. “How?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more vulnerable than you meant it to be.

He steps in closer, his breath warm on your skin as his fingers slide down your arms before they settle on your hips. “Lie down,” he says softly, guiding you towards the bed. “I’ll give you a massage.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his offer, but you’re too tired to resist, too drained to pretend you don’t want it. You nod wordlessly and let him lead you to the bed.

“You’ll need to take these off, though,” he adds, his voice taking on a playful edge as his hands toy with the hem of your shirt and pants.

You hesitate for just a moment before you peel off your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You’ve been with Mattheo long enough to trust him, to know where this might lead, but even so, the thought of his hands on your bare skin sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

He gestures for you to lie down on your stomach, and you do as he asks, sinking into the softness of your bed. The cool air of the room brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Mattheo’s hands as they begin to move across your back.

His touch is firm but gentle, his fingers pressing into the knots of tension with precision, easing the tightness in your muscles with every slow, deliberate stroke. You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your lips as the stress begins to melt away, your body gradually relaxing under his expert hands.

“You’ve been overworking yourself again,” he says, his voice low as his hands move lower, kneading into the small of your back, just inches above the swell of your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

You hum in response, too lost in the sensation of his touch to form words. His hands are magic, each movement drawing out a bit more tension, until all that’s left is a pleasant warmth spreading through your body.

Mattheo’s hands glide down to your hips, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just above your underwear, and you feel a flicker of heat beneath the surface of your relaxation. His touch lingers there, teasing, as he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“Feeling better yet?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your breath hitches, and you nod, though you can sense the shift in the air between you.

Without waiting for a response, Mattheo’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down ever so slightly as his lips trail soft kisses along your shoulder, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

You can feel your heart racing now, your pulse quickening as his hands begin to explore your thighs, his touch more intimate, more insistent. He whispers your name, his voice thick with desire, and your legs open wider ever so slightly in response, silently telling him what you need, what you’ve been craving.

“Turn over,” he commands, his voice rougher now.

You do as he says, rolling onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes. His hand slides over your thigh, fingers brushing up toward your center again, but this time he doesn’t hesitate.

It only takes one short motion, a flick of his thumb, for him to press into the hot flesh of your core. Your back arches sharply upwards at the contact, and he grins wickedly down at you, leaning forward to run his tongue against your throat.

“So responsive,” he breathes. “Does it feel good, sweet girl?”

Your breathing catches at the question, and then you nod eagerly. Mattheo's thumb rubs slow circles over your clit and just as you feel his teeth on the skin of your neck again, his finger teases itself inside you. You writhe beneath him, desperate for more.

“Yes,” you moan, the sound echoing around the silent dorm room. “Please, please, more…”

With a quiet chuckle, Mattheo's finger presses deeper, his thumb speeding up slightly, and you groan loudly, feeling the familiar pressure build up, your entire being thrumming with pleasure. A few moments later, your orgasm hits, and when your body falls limp in exhaustion you hear Mattheo's quiet chuckle as he pulls away.

He lies down beside you, his warm body pressing close to yours. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings your face close to his, his other hand reaching over you to pull the blanket over the both of you. Your lips brush together once before he kisses you, lingering a bit longer than usual.

“Still feeling tense?” he mumbles, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Not anymore,” you reply as he pushes your face towards his neck, his fingers dancing lazily across the small of your back.

Masterlist

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a very short sneak peak of peonies part 4 <3

“Theo,” you murmur, pushing the bathroom door open, the soft creak of the hinges filling the quiet room. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, exactly where you left him, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the photos on your wall. At the sound of your voice, he looks up, his eyes softening as they meet yours. “I need help with my dress.”

He doesn’t say a word, just stands, and you instinctively step back, letting him push the door open. The bathroom feels even smaller now, barely enough space for two, and the air grows thick as you turn to face the mirror. Theo moves in behind you, his presence warm and overwhelming. You hold your dress up, fingers trembling slightly against the fabric, your gaze fixed on the reflection of his eyes meeting yours. His hands hover near the zipper, and though your breath hitches softly, you know he’s heard it—the way his eyes flicker with the same tension that tightens in your chest.

You feel the gentle tug of the zipper, but his eyes never leave yours. Those dark, watercolor eyes that always seem to unravel you, leaving you feeling unsteady, weak in a way that only he seems to be able to. It would be so easy to just turn your head, to look at him fully, to close the small space between you. But the thought alone sends a wave of nerves through you, a flutter of tension that makes your heart race. You stay facing the mirror, knowing that meeting his gaze head-on might be too much, too revealing.

With each slow tug of the zipper, more of your skin is exposed, and the air between you grows heavier, thick with a kind of tension you’ve never felt before—one that prickles along your spine and makes your pulse quicken. “There,” he murmurs, his voice deep and smooth, like honey, sending a shiver through you. You suck in a breath, the sound of his voice far too close, too intimate. “Do you need help with anything else?” His words linger in the air, and the question feels heavier than it should, making your heart race even faster.