33. Bury me – Stella
Standing with Riggins at the top of my steps, the butterflies flutter in my belly like this is our true first date, and I’m nervous for what comes next as if he hasn’t kissed me breathless before or seen me naked a million times over.
“So tonight was…” I start, biting my lip with nerves, which is crazy.
This is Riggins.
The one person on this earth I could always be myself around.
“It was great. Thank you for inviting—” There’s no time to continue my ramblings because his hand is on my waist, tugging me close. I let out an oomph! as he tugs me in, but I have no time to think when his other hand moves over to my jaw, tipping it up right before his lips are on mine.
With the touch, my body melts, and my arms lift, my fingers twining behind his neck as I move to tiptoes. He kisses me deep and full like he’s trying to consume me, but slow as if he’s trying to catalog the moment, remember it forever, just in case.
“If you need me to stop, that’s okay,” he says when he breaks the kiss, his voice low and gravelly. “Last time, we were both lost in emotion. I don’t want any regrets this time.”
He’s right. Last time we were wrapped in too many emotions and while I don’t regret it, not in the least, I know that this time would be different. If I invite Riggins inside, if we sleep together, it’s because I’m finally agreeing this is something more. Or maybe that we were never anything less. Either way, I can’t go back to being just friends, to pushing him away.
If I invite him inside, I’ll be accepting I am Riggins’ and he is mine, and we’re ready to try this again, regardless of my fears.
“But I need you to tell me now. If you need time, I’ll give it all to you. But if I follow you into this house, we’re making this real again in all the best ways. You’ll be mine again.” I stare at him for long, long heartbeats, and I can see the nerves and fear in his eyes, but I just smile. I smile, move to my tip toes, and press my lips to his.
I’m not scared.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask in a whisper. His lips tip up in a familiar smile, and he moves. I’m squealing as he lifts me up bridal style and opens my front door. He steps inside, closing the door behind us. Gracie comes running to the door as he does. “Sit, girl. Be good, I’ve gotta go make mommy feel really fucking good.”
I try to fight a laugh, but I can’t when I watch her turn and go to the dog bed he brought over for her, like she fully understands and is over our bullshit.
Riggins just keeps walking until we’re in my bedroom, letting my body slide down his as he lowers me to the ground, pressing his lips to mine gently, then moving to my neck. His hands move to my back, finding the zipper of my dress and pulling it down.
The loose material falls off my shoulder with a shift of my arms, and then I stand in front of him in just my bra and underwear. His fingers move to the back of my bra, expertly undoing the clasp and letting that fall too, my clothes a puddle at my feet. Once more, he pulls me in tight until I’m flush with his body.
His hands explore, one sliding up into my hair and holding me still as I stare at him as he looks down at me, the other dipping down into the back of my underwear, grabbing a handful of my ass.
My lips tip up because if there’s one thing I know about Riggins, it’s that he loves my ass. He returns it, then lets his hand shift to the waistband of my underwear, using a thumb to tug it down.
His lips hit mine, kissing me gently and slowly with no real urgency; he works my panties down with one hand until they’re low enough that I can help out and step out of them.
Then I’m naked in front of him, my body pressed against his clothes. I try to speak, to tell him I need him, that I want him naked and in me. I want his skin on mine, but the words dry up as his hand moves to my belly and slides down, a rough finger brushing over my clit and then circling it. My knees go a bit weak, and I loop my hands over his shoulders to hold myself up.
“Already so wet,” he whispers. “Is this for me?”
I nod, unable to speak as his finger slides further down, gathering my wetness and dragging it up to my clit. I let out a little ah! And his head dips down to press kisses against my neck.
The incessant circling continues, my hips bucking to try and get more, and he gives in, sliding down and pushing two fingers inside me. We both groan with the move, and he starts to pump them in and out, slowly fucking me, the heel of his palm grinding against my clit as he does.
“Riggins,” I moan breathily, somehow already so close to the edge.
His mouth on my neck nips before his hand leaves me, his lips moving to mine to press once before stepping back. Then I watch as he lifts his fingers, eyes locked on mine, and licks them clean.
“You’re evil.” He just smiles. I take a step closer. “My turn,” I whisper, dying to undress him, to touch and tease him the way he did me. Last time was so rushed, so emotion-filled, I almost feel like I was robbed of the chance to explore this version of him I don’t know.
His hands go out, offering me full access, and I nearly shiver at the opportunity. I start with his tee, tugging it up and over his head, tossing it in the corner, and moving to the button of his jeans. Before I unbutton them, I press kisses to the skin across his chest.
His fingers move to rub at my scalp, push my hair back. He can’t keep his hands off me and I don’t mind.
I keep moving, pressing kisses down his stomach as I do, marveling at how his muscles tense and tighten as I move lower.
“Stella,” he says.
I ignore him, my thumbs hooking into his underwear and jeans before pulling them down. Finally, I’m on my knees and he’s watching, looking down at me. My pussy clenches at the look of it, of him towering over me, me on my knees before him. Lifting my hand, I grip and tug his cock the way I remember he liked before tapping my tongue on the head.
Riggs watches each and every move, every movement of my tongue, as I circle the swollen head of his cock.
Finally, I close my lips around it, tasting the precum there and letting out a low moan as I suck lightly. My eyes stay on him the entire time, so I know he likes it, watching his eyes drift close with pleasure, which is why I’m confused when he stops me.
“No,” he says, shaking his head and using a hand to collect my hair. Pushing it over my shoulder. “No, not this time, beautiful girl.” I fight the urge to feel like I’m being rejected. He sees that and bends, grabbing me under my armpits before pulling me up and sitting me on the edge of my tall bed.
“Any other time, little star, I’d be fucking feral, looking at you on your knees for me, pink lips wrapped around my cock.” He pushes me back, then pulls on my legs, tugging my ass to the foot of the bed. His thumbs move to either side of my pussy, spreading and looking at me before running a finger up my center, stopping to circle my clit before repeating the circuit.
“Right now, I really want to make my wife come.”
“Oh, god,” I moan as his fingers slide into me.
“Jesus fuck, you’re wet. Is that what having my cock in your mouth did to you?” he asks, and I can’t do much more than a nod as he crooks his finger inside of me.
“Play with your tits, Stell. I remember you used to like that, to play with yourself while I play with you.”
Gone is goofy Riggs.
Gone is the sweet one, the one desperate to prove himself to me.
Gone is Riggins, my friend.
In his place is this new version I’ve barely met, this one who commands my body, who I can’t do anything but obey.
So I do.
He smiles when he sees it.
“Even all these years later, you’re still my good girl, aren’t you?”
And now, this new version is also talkative. My pussy clenches, and his lips tip up.
“Huh. Seems my girl likes me talking to her. What else does she like now?” His thumb moves to my clit, rubbing once, twice, and my hips buck.
“Mmm, she definitely likes that. Well, you’ve been pretty good; why don’t I let you choose?” I groan, and somehow, his smile gets even wider. He’s getting some kind of sick joy from this, from watching me suffer. “I make you come on my fingers, or I make you come on my cock. Which do you choose, Stella?”
I don’t take a moment to consider, spitting the words out. “Your cock, Riggins. Please.”
He barks out a laugh, and it’s funny, in a way, to be this turned on and still find things funny. I’m reminded of the days when things were easy when we were easy.
All thoughts of easy are gone when he takes the head of his thick cock and runs it through my dripping pussy, pulling a deep, pained groan from him. My hands on my breasts tighten.
Finally, he notches the head and slides into me, slow and careful, stretching me wonderfully. His eyes are locked to mine like he’s reading me, looking for any shift or change in my demeanor. He slides halfway out gently before sliding back in.
He’s being careful.
He’s being gentle.
I hate it. I need the passion and the excitement and the lack of restraint that is Riggins and I now.
“Let go,” I groan, my fingers digging into his head. “Please, god. I’m not fragile. Fuck me, Riggins,” I moan. He stops completely, buried deep, before his eyes go dark.
“You don’t want gentle,” he says, and I shake my head, hand moving to dig my nails in his back to get him closer, to get more.
“I want you, Riggins. I want whatever you can give me.” His lips tip up but not in the playful way from before. In a wild way, that has me clenching on him as he slides out once more.
Finally, he gives me him.
He slams back into me with no restraint, and I moan loudly, my head snapping back as I do. The fire instantly ignites in my belly, and my nails dig in as he slides out and in again. His eyes survey my body as he moves, as one hand moves to my breast, tugging roughly on my nipple.
He watches with rapt fascination as he pounds into me, as I not only take his thrusts but arch into them, begging for more.
“Fuck, Stell. Look at you. Loved you then, loved fucking you then, but love you even more now.” I moan at his words, writhing, feeling it crest and crest, the pressure building in my belly. He continues to speak through gritted teeth. “Love that I know you can take me, that you love when I’m fucking you hard and take what I need.”
“Yes, yes, Riggs. God, yes. Whatever you need.” I’m floating, lightheaded with pleasure and desire, and Riggins and all things bright and shiny and happy.
“You’re mine, Stella.”
“Riggins—” I moan,
“No.” A deep groan leaves his lips, but he keeps slamming into me, harder now, a hand on each side of my hips using me as leverage to slam deeper, harder with each thrust. Each move pulls a deep groan from his chest, and I can’t do much more than look up at him, take what he’s willing to give me and feel every sensation.
“Now take your hand and rub your clit until you moan my name as you come. You moan, and I’ll fill you up with my cum. Then you’re gonna know that even as it drips out of you, you’re mine. Forever, Stella.”
That’s all it takes. My hand is barely even on my clit when my back arches, when I scream his name, clamping down on him and coming harder than I ever have in my life. My body feels on fire as he continues to slam into me, groaning out bits of words and phrases like beautiful and fuck and so good before he finally shouts Fuck, Stella! As he buries himself as deep as he can.
The feel of him spilling into me triggers another small orgasm, my body shaking before I go limp beneath him, totally spent and completely changed.