Chapter 13
SMITH
The rope around my fingers felt a lot like having my hands held, and I closed my eyes and sank into that feeling as Riggs swatted his palm against my ass. Once, twice, three times, my hips jerking of their own accord after every point of impact.
“Your skin is gorgeous,” Riggs said, smoothing his fingers over the backs of my thighs. “But even more so once it turns pink.”
Another strike, another, another.
I pressed my forehead against his comforter and went limp in his lap. Beneath me, Riggs adjusted himself, using his thigh to heft my ass into the air before spanking me again.
“You do like it rough, don’t you, baby?” he murmured, hitting me harder than the times before.
I did like it rough, and I knew once I was alone, I’d wonder if that meant something was wrong with me, but all that doubt and worry would have to wait.
Pain spiked through me, wrapping around my spine and exploding through my arms and legs, and before I could fully process the sensation, he hit me again.
Over and over, the same strength, the same pace.
Close enough together it was nearly impossible to catch my breath until I realized I didn’t need to.
The air came when I needed it, and it was with gasping and wet breaths I found myself flying.
Of course not literally, Riggs’s hands were against me at all times, his thighs against my chest and my waist, but I had never felt lighter, never felt more present in my body than during those moments.
Riggs spanked me hard on the strip of skin between the back of my thigh and my ass, and I fucked myself aggressively against his lap.
My body moved of its own accord, mindless and wanton, until the orgasm twisted up alongside the pain and caused an explosion far bigger than the one I’d caused alone in the shower.
I shot my load into the tight crevice of Riggs’s thighs, and if he noticed, he gave me no indication.
Instead, he continued his work against my ass and the backs of my thighs until the skin from my knees all the way up ached from his touch.
I writhed against his lap, eyes rolled back and cock still leaking like a faucet.
His jeans were soaked through from my cum and the wet denim caused another rolling wave of pain with every jerk of my hips.
I would have given him everything inside of me if only he’d asked for it.
The way he pushed me to my limits but didn’t stop?
I could have wept with happiness for it.
Riggs wasn’t scared of the things I wanted, which made it so, for a moment, neither was I.
“Jesus, you’re something else,” Riggs murmured, his hand coming to rest spread across both of my ass cheeks. I sucked in my first full breath in what felt like forever, and the resulting exhale sounded a lot like a sob.
“I wish you could see yourself. Next time, I’ll make you watch in a mirror. I’ll make sure you get to see what it looks like when I take you apart for my…for your pleasure.”
All I could do was whimper because that was terrifying and arousing all at the same time.
In a quick burst of motion, Riggs lifted me up from his lap and deposited me onto his bed directly.
My hands were still bound to the corner of his footboard, and he stretched my body out toward the pillows before lifting me beneath my hip and hauling me onto my knees.
I rolled my face around his bedding and closed my eyes, sad to have lost the rough abrasion of his thighs.
“Look at you,” he murmured.
A bottle snicked open and then wet fingers wrapped around my still-hard cock. He stroked me until I started to chase after his hand, then released my shaft and slapped his hand against the back of my thigh.
“You were born for this, holy shit,” he said, replacing his hand with the cold, thin press of the cane he’d pulled out of the closet at the start of the night. “Check in with me, Smith.”
“I’m good,” I slurred, pulling my face out of the sheets so he could hear me. “Don’t stop.”
He leveled a few gentle strokes of the cane against the backs of my thighs, the whoosh of the toy through the air scarier than the impact itself.
I had the fleeting thought this was a downgrade from his hand, but then he hit me harder, and I saw stars.
I cried out, a weak and strangled noise aborted as he struck me again, inches below the first point of impact.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, bringing my face back into the blankets to smother my cries. It hurt, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to stop. In fact, I wanted him to go further. I wanted him to take me back to the place I’d been on his lap with his hand against my ass.
“I know,” he agreed, and without any delay he did just that.
I closed my eyes and counted the stars on the backs of my eyelids, each constellation punctuated by the snap of bamboo against skin, and I let the ache of it all carry me away.
Then it was hot breath against my ear, Riggs’s mouth against my neck.
“Come back, baby,” he whispered, body pressed against mine.
He loosened the rope from the bolt on his bed and lowered my hands between my legs so my chest and face were smashed down into the sheets.
Riggs guided my bound fingers to my cock— which was nearly too sensitive to touch—and then used his hips to push mine forward.
I fucked my dick into the cave made by my hands, the rope soft on my fingers and rough on my swollen and leaking slit. Riggs waited util I found a pace, humming pleased approval from his place behind me.
“That’s right,” he praised. “Bring it back together and come back to me now. I want you to feel this next part.”
I murmured something that sounded like desperation, and then his slippery and cold fingers pressed against my asshole.
Without any pause, he slipped one all the way into me, his knuckles pressed against my cheeks.
My mouth opened but no sound came out, sheets stuck to my tongue, to my teeth.
Riggs eased the finger out of me, then all the way back in.
He pressed his fingertip upward until another explosion set off on my eyelids.
My hips spasmed and I fucked my cock into the tight cavern of my hands until another shot of cum poured out of me.
I ruined his rope, ruined his sheets, spilling all over my fingers and thrashing uncontrollably back onto his hand.
He was nowhere near finished, pulling out only to add a second finger and stretch me wider.
Riggs hauled me back onto his lap, my cock now smashed against my stomach.
He used his fingers like the hook I’d seen in use at Rapture, like he was trying to lift my body out of the way so he could have more direct access to my ass.
He spanked me again, a return to the warm pleasure I’d already become familiar with, and again I was lost.
Time passed and time passed and…
“You are magnificent,” he said softly into my ear, pulling me onto his lap so my back pressed against his chest. I had no choice but to lean back against him as he spread my legs to the outside of his knees then spread his legs part, taking me even wider.
“I’m ready to make you come now,” he murmured, sinking his teeth into my ear lobe and wrapping his lube slicked fist around my cock.
“I’ve…twice.”
“I told you that was not my concern.” Riggs stroked me with a strength somewhere between the two versions of himself he’d given me in the bathroom.
My body was electrified so it was also possible he was barely touching me at all—I wasn’t sure.
Time blurred into nothing and everything, and my skin hurt even though I’d never felt better.
The backs of my thighs burned against Riggs’s jeans, and a violent sob ripped out of my throat as I came for the fourth time that night, the third in his room.
“Please stop,” I rasped, hips fucking into his own hand without my approval. “Please. It…”
Riggs licked the underside of my jaw and made his grip tighter, the pace unchanged. My shoulders twisted, but he held me down against his chest, spread my legs wide enough my thighs burned and trembled.
“It’s not too much,” he promised me. “It’s just enough, isn’t it, baby? Just enough.”
I shook and cried on Riggs’s lap, making an absolute mess of myself as he teased me through one more orgasm that felt dry as air.
He held me through it, stroked me through it, dragging his other hand around my chest in search of my nipples.
The pain from his fingers there was enough to push another forceful storm of arousal out the tip of my dick and onto his waiting fingers.
“S’enough,” I murmured.
“Almost.” Riggs brought me down to the bed, this time on my back, and he lined his body up with mine.
Still fully clothed, he pressed his knee between my legs, against my balls and my still tender asshole.
He reached between us, breached me again with those devilish fingers of his and used the momentum of his body to fuck his first two fingers in and out of me.
He started hard, like I imagined he would if he used his cock, but his pace quickly slowed, then stilled entirely.
He pulled his hand away, brushed my hair back from my face and peppered soft and delicate kisses against the corners of my mouth and my chin.
I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes, but I felt him move.
He sat beside me and unknotted the rope, tossing it onto the floor.
“Why’d you stop?”
He lifted my hands to his mouth, kissed my fingers where the knots had bound me together.
“Because it was enough.”
I was beyond spent, but I wanted to argue. I wanted more from him. I wanted him to wring every breath out of my lungs with his hands and then fill me back up with air and do it all over again. Riggs had reduced me to the bare bones of my existence, and I was nowhere near ready to be done with that.