Chapter 37 Smith
SMITH
In the end, Lincoln asked for a tattoo of a triangle on the webbing between his thumb and his first finger.
“Why?” I asked, unsure of the meaning.
“The trifecta,” he announced, offering no further explanation besides, “It’s okay. Your brother will get it.”
It was the tattoo he was most proud of, and he sent Hunter a thousand pictures of it before he wrapped Riggs into a hug and clapped him hard on the back.
“I could kiss you,” Lincoln announced with a grin. “But I won’t.”
Riggs chuckled, shoving some loose waves back from his face. I loved the way his hair always managed to give up on him by the end of the day.
Their meeting had gone exactly as I knew it would.
It was impossible to do anything other than love Lincoln, and Riggs was no exception to the rule.
His tattoo took less than five minutes, and Lincoln spent the rest of the day talking about Hunter and Silas and about his fish, Feeny.
Every now and then, Riggs would look over and catch my eye, flashing me a content little smile, then turn his attention back to Lincoln.
If he was anyone other than who he was, I would worry about how quickly the two of them bonded, but this was the man I loved and one of my very best friends.
It couldn’t have been more perfect.
The two of them exchanged phone numbers, which was adorable, and by the time Lincoln finally left, the sun had started to go down and the goofy smile hadn’t left Riggs’s face.
“I see why you love him,” he said to me as we climbed the stairs back to the apartment.
“He’s infectious.”
“That sounds like a bad thing.”
I laughed and closed the door to the apartment and twisted the deadbolt. I kicked out of my shoes and leaned my shoulders against the wall, the earlier tease and heat Riggs had left between my legs immediately surging back to life as soon as we were alone.
“Far from it.” I palmed myself over the fly of my jeans. “This feels pretty bad, though.”
Riggs arched a brow at me. “Is there something you need?”
“I need that second orgasm you promised me earlier.”
“Then take off you clothes and go get on the bed.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I scrambled past Riggs and into the bedroom, discarding clothes as I went.
I all but flung myself onto the bed, my cock as hard as it had been before Lincoln arrived and twice as wet.
Riggs took his time coming after me, sauntering into the bedroom with both hands raised as he re-tied his hair.
He’d taken off his boots, but other than that, was still fully dressed.
I shivered, taking in the long and lithe lines of his body, the way he prowled toward me like a panther stalking prey.
Instead of coming to the bed, Riggs detoured to his stash of toys, producing two lengths of rope and tossing them casually onto the bed.
He sat down on the edge and bound my wrists with simple wraps and sturdy knots, then tied my arms together and fastened me to the bed.
He did the same on my ankles, spreading my legs to either corner of the bed.
The vulnerability of the position only made my cock harder and more insistent.
“Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “I think about how gorgeous you looked when you took my whole hand inside of you.”
My eyes rolled back, and I groaned at the memory of it.
Riggs opened a bottle of lube and slicked his fingers, sliding his hand between the globes of my ass and wasting no time entering me.
The slippery penetration of his first finger drew a gasp out of me and a twitch from my dick.
Riggs chuckled, in that dangerous way he had when he was ready to buckle down for the long haul.
“When we take our trip, I want…there’s things you want from me that we haven’t done yet.” Riggs spoke carefully as he lazily stroked his fingertip over my prostate.
“I don’t want to fuck,” I blurted, fingers scrabbling at the headboard. “Unless you want.”
“I don’t,” he said simply, “but I meant…the roughness. I know you want to be a little more scared than you have been.”
He added a second finger into me with no warning, and I arched off the bed, the rope pressing into my skin as I fought against the binds. Even though I never wanted to be released from the man or his bondage. “Yes, please.”
“Until then, though,” he whispered, spreading his fingers when they were halfway out of me.
“Until then.”
“Close your eyes, baby.”
I did. And I kept them closed, listening to the lube open again, feeling the cool drops of it as Riggs drizzled a copious amount onto my already very wet cock.
Riggs made an agonizingly loose fist around my shaft and stroked, and I thrashed beneath him, desperate for more than what he was giving me.
I whined, ready to ask for more when he released me fully, letting go of my cock and pulling his fingers out of me.
“No!” I cried out, the sound of my own cries drowning out the low timbre of Riggs’s laugh.
“We’ve had a very long couple of days,” he said, dragging his finger down my length. “I want you to take it easy tonight.”
“Impossible.”
“Try harder.”
“Riggs.”
He huffed.
“Sir,” I murmured, the word feeling right in the moment.
“Yes, baby?”
“Please make me come.”
“Whatever you want,” he conceded, covering my body with his own.
He hadn’t told me I could open my eyes yet so I didn’t, not when he put his fingers back into me and not when he used his body weight to thrust his hand in and out of me like he was fucking me.
Riggs grabbed my cock again, let the momentum of his body move his hand over my dick, and I was gone for this man.
He buried his face into the crook of my neck, grunting as he moved over the top of me, picking up the pace when my orgasm turned into something massive and unavoidable.
“I’m gonna—”
“I know.”
My dick erupted like a fountain, my entire body seizing with the force of my release.
My muscles clamped down around his knuckles, and I spilled jets of hot cum across Riggs’s fingers and both of our stomachs.
He was still fully dressed, my cum undoubtedly soaking into his shirt as he continued to move over the top of me.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “You’re mine.”
Before I could recover, Riggs slid down my body and shoved a pillow beneath my hips.
There wasn’t really anywhere for me to go, but he spread me apart just the same and buried his face in the slick crease of my ass.
His tongue explored me like he was a starving man finding an oasis, no concern about the lube or the sweat or the cum that had certainly slid down my balls when I came.
He ate my ass so aggressively, there was no chance for my cock to go soft, and not long after I realized that, he took me back into his hand and started to stroke.
Riggs drew a third orgasm out of me, and I saw stars on the backs of my eyelids brighter than the sun.
“Open your eyes, Smith,” he coaxed, and with some reluctance, I blinked him into focus. My hands trembled, fingers curled around the ropes to ground myself, like I was really at threat of going anywhere besides exactly where I wanted to be. “Are you good?”
“More than,” I murmured, letting my head fall back against the pillows.
“Are you done?”
I thought about it before I answered. I could have easily been done, but I wasn’t ready for it.
I certainly didn’t think it physically possible for me to come again, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to try.
I wanted to see what Riggs had in mind, what he wanted to do with me after he’d taken the time to make me so soft and pliant.
“Not if you’re not.”
“I don’t think I could ever be done with you.”
“I hope not,” I whispered.
Riggs reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of nipple clamps, holding them in the air by the chain.
“Fuck. Yes, please,” I said.
He lowered himself back over me, teasing my nipples with his mouth for longer than would have been considered decent.
Riggs sucked and licked and bit my nipples like he could get me off from that alone, and I realized, with some surprise, he was very close to doing just that.
His spit ran down the side of my chest, over my ribs and onto the sheets, and only when I was seconds away from begging him to stop did he replace his lips with the tight bite of the rubber-covered steel clamps.
Tears burst out of my eyes, maybe from relief, but also from the knowing that came from being with a man like Riggs.
“Do you need me to stop?” he asked, fingers gently stroking across my chest from one pained nipple to the other.
“Please don’t.”
Riggs pressed the sharp edge of his fingernail into the corner of my nipple, then dragged it up to my armpit.
I knew what was coming before he did it, the sharp pinch of his fingers as he took an extremely small sliver of skin into his grasp and bore town.
I arched into him again, head bowed back as a very unattractive sound fell out of my mouth.
“You’ve done so much the past two days,” Riggs whispered, trailing his hand to a new spot, another pinch. “You’ve done so much for me.”
“I don’t—”
He cut me off with a quick flick of his wrist and a painful twist of my skin beneath his fingernails. I let the words die in my throat.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, pressing his mouth against the edge of my nipple and leaving a soft kiss in the wake of his fingers.
He moved like that for another minute, his mouth peppering kindness after the cruelty of his fingers, and I was covered in gooseflesh and sweat by the time he reached my hip.
Riggs slid his hand around to the inside of my thigh, searched out a pressure point and dug his fingers in so deep I saw a completely different kind of stars around the edges of my vision.
“I didn’t know I needed you until you were here,” he confessed. “Whether you’re passed out on my chair or coming in my hand with your cheek pressed against the door of a bathroom stall…there’s no denying how much I need you.”
He released the pressure point and my entire body sagged in relief, but then he took my balls into his mouth, toying at them with his tongue and I was ready to beg him to put an end to us both.
Riggs sucked my sac and licked my cock, then worked his way up the other side of my body, hitting the same pressure points, the same beats, until he was back at my chest, finger twirling around the chain that held the clamps on my nipples together.
“You make my life better,” he whispered. “Broke me out of a holding pattern I didn’t even realize I’d fallen into.”
“I love you,” I told him back, but it was more a plea than a promise.
It was easy for Riggs to say I’d done that for him, but he’d done the same for me and he’d done it tenfold. I’d walked into his shop looking for a way to be anyone besides Marshall.
I never expected to actually find myself.
“I know, baby,” he said, nodding his cheek against mine.
His fingers tightened and he pulled, taking the clamps off my nipples with one sharp pull.
If his body wasn’t on top of mine, I certainly would have broken through the rope and the bed itself.
But Riggs was there and he was strong, and he used his body to keep me steady as another terrifyingly hard orgasm unfurled out of me, this time with no hands.
The wet spread of cum between us must have taken Riggs by surprise because he lifted off me enough to look down, then reached his hand between us and swiped up some of my spend with his finger.
“Look at me,” he said, and I did.
I pried my eyes open in time to watch him trace my cum across my lower lip so he could lean down and lick it off of me.
I tightened my fingers around the ropes that kept me pinned to the bed, desperate to be released while never wanting Riggs to let me go.
There was simplicity in the dichotomy of it, the duality of wanting opposite things and finding a way to have them both at the same time.
“Thank you,” he said to me, leaning down and pressing a kiss against the corner of my mouth.
“For what?”
“This life.”
“I hardly—”
Riggs cut off my protest with the hard press of his cum-sticky fingers against my mouth. “Don’t argue.”
“Okay,” I mouthed against his palm. “Okay.”