Chapter 15
Zoe
I yawn, enjoying the feel of stretching my muscles. I’ve had hangovers before, so I know sleep is the best cure. Sleep and water. Now that I’ve had some sleep, hydrating will make me feel like a new woman.
I smile when I see the bottle of water on the nightstand next to me. Knowing Riggs put it there before he slipped into bed makes me glad we ended up here. He’s the perfect man, and I get to call him mine. It may have been a drunken idea, but now that we’re married, it feels like fate had a hand in bringing us together.
I get out of bed, brush my teeth, and then slip back into bed. Riggs sleeps on his back with one arm above his head and the other hand resting on his chest. It’s as if he’s casually reclining for a photoshoot or posing for an artist’s painting. He really is gorgeous.
Before he wakes, I snap a picture of him. This isn’t a memory I want to forget. I trace the slope of his nose with my finger and then move to his full lower lip. I kiss it, enjoying the plumpness.
He moves, my touch waking him. He shoves his hand between our lips, covering his mouth. “Let me brush my teeth first.” His words come out jumbled from beneath his palm.
I nod. As much as I want to kiss him with abandon, I can’t deny the harsh reality of hangover nap breath. It’s pretty gross.
I watch him disappear into the bathroom, then jump out of bed, stripping down to my bra and panties. I wish they were sexier than a pair of red and gray striped boy shorts and a white demi bra, but I was so hungover and worried about breakfast with Mom and Stone this morning that I didn’t think twice about what I was putting on my body. The sink turning off tells me I don’t have time to change into something sexier. This will have to do.
Riggs, clad only in his boxers, steps into the room, smiling when he sees me perched on top of the covers. “Zoe,” he whispers, smiling with approval.
I lick my lips, drawing my lower one between my teeth. I want him, but I’m also nervous and overthinking things. We may be married, but that doesn’t tell me how he feels about me. I have no idea if he’s just staying married to me because of Titan or if a part of him actually wants to be with me. Isn’t what you say and do while drunk how you truly feel? God, I hope so.
He reaches between his legs, squeezing his hardening cock. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“I want you, too.” My voice is breathless as my heart pounds against my chest. I can’t believe this is happening.
His eyes widen as if that shocks him. I don’t know why he’s surprised. I’ve been throwing myself at him since the moment we first met. He’s the one who has resisted all my advances. Not the other way around. If it had been up to me, we would’ve had sex the first night he took me home from the club.
He moves to the bed, crawling on top of me. His erection strains against his boxers as it rests along my stomach. He kisses me, softly at first, while holding his upper body off mine to keep from giving me his full weight. It’s not until right now that I realize how dramatic our size difference is. I’m short like my mom. In fact, I look just like she did at my age. Where I’m small, Riggs is large. He’s tall and muscular. Not bulky, but still defined. In his arms like this, I feel safe. It’s a security I’ve been desperate for since my world turned upside down, one I haven’t truly felt until now.
He rolls his hips, kissing down my neck to the cup of my bra. He shifts to his hip, moving to the side of me, freeing his hand to trace along the edge of the fabric. “Is this okay?”
I nod, swallowing back my nerves.
“I need you to tell me if I do something you don’t want or aren’t ready for.” His eyes are tight, as if he’s as nervous as I am.
“I want this.” Every nerve in my body is coiled and ready to ignite.
He moves the cup aside, then pinches my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the peak gently. I buck my hips, trying to find friction, but there is none since he’s moved to the side of me and is propped up one arm, watching my face as he plucks my nipple. Slowly, he traces his finger to the other side and bares that nipple. Normally, I’d be self-conscious with my boobs exposed like this, but not with Riggs. No, unlike with the boys I’ve fooled around with before, Riggs is a man. He knows what he’s doing, and everything he does makes me feel worshiped.
“You’re so beautiful.” He leans forward, sucking one of my aching nipples into his mouth.
I moan, gripping the back of his head, threading my fingers through his soft hair. “Keep doing that.”
He chuckles, but continues to revere my breasts with kisses.
The mounting pressure between my legs is so strong that I push his hand between my thighs and rock against it. I may be a virgin, but I’m no stranger to my body. I know what I like.
Riggs moves between my legs and kisses down my stomach until he reaches my panties. He leans back, tugging them off me before kissing just above the triangle tuft of pubic hair, shielding the most secret part of me from his eyes. Only two guys have ever been this close to me down there, and, while I enjoyed the sensation of them tonguing the alphabet against my vulva and occasionally striking gold when they brushed my clit, this is different. Riggs knows exactly where to lick, stroke, and suck.
Suddenly self-conscious, I pull him up by his ears, kissing him on the lips. The head of his cock rests against my entrance, only the cotton of his boxers keeping us apart. He kisses me as he removes my bra. Then he moves back and takes stock of my nude body. “I want to kiss every inch of you.” The way he says it makes me believe he feels like that would be just as much a gift for him as it is for me.
“I want that.” More than anything I want that.
“Why does it sound like a but is coming?” He moves my hair off my forehead in an act filled with so much tenderness I almost weep.
“I’m nervous,” I admit.
“Have you never had anyone pleasure you before?”
I shake my head no. “I’ve had guys go down on me, but it wasn’t. . . They weren’t. . . I’m afraid I’ll lose control with you.”
A smirk spreads across his face, making him even more attractive. “You will.”
“What if. . ?” I’m afraid to give voice to what I’m worried about. What if I lose control, and he’s not there to catch me?
He kisses me, savoring me as if I’m a delicacy. “Losing control is a good thing. I’ll break you apart and then put all the pieces back together.”
“Promise?” How does he always know what I need to hear?
“I promise.” He kisses down my body before moving my legs, draping my calves over his shoulders and resting my feet on his back. “Stop overthinking and enjoy the moment.” He drags his tongue along my sex and my back arches up, pushing my clit against his mouth.
He continues to tongue my bundle of nerves as he slips a finger inside me. I know he’s worried about hurting me by the way he keeps his finger shallow. After a few moments, he presses his finger deeper. It burns, but isn’t entirely unpleasant. It’s almost like the sting of being penetrated for the first time by a finger much thicker than my own keeps me grounded. I need the reminder that he’s here with me. His mouth on my clit feels almost too good, and I need something to counter that and tell me I’m still alive. This may feel like heaven, but it’s not. This is real.
When I’m ready, he adds a second finger. “I’m so full,” I pant, rolling my hips as I reach up to tug on my nipples.
He lifts his head. “Come for me.”
I’m about to argue that I can’t do that on command when he sucks my clit so hard I see stars. Just as I fall over the edge, he adds a third finger. I feel myself gripping his fingers as my legs tighten and tremors contract every muscle in my body.
He continues to lick and probe until I come down from my orgasm. Then he kisses up my body before finding my lips. Unable to process the intensity of the moment, I cry. Warm, fat tears drip down my face, mixing with our kisses.
“That was amazing,” he whispers, moving onto his back and pulling me against his side.
I’m so overwrought with pleasure and emotion that all I can do is nod. Because he’s wrong. That was more than amazing. In fact, I don’t even think the word to describe what that was exists.
He kisses my forehead. “We should hit the stores before they close. After that, we can get dinner wherever you choose.”
“You don’t want. . .?” I trail off, embarrassed to say more. Why doesn’t he want me to touch him?
He smiles. “You’re not ready for more.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he silences me with a kiss. “If you can’t say the words, you aren’t ready.”
I frown because he’s right. As much as I want more with Riggs, I’m not ready. . . yet. This is all happening so fast, and I need to slow down to catch my breath.
He traces a finger between my eyebrows, smoothing out the lines. “Marriage is a partnership. It’s not about trading favors.”
I watch as he goes into the bathroom. How did I get so lucky? But more importantly, how will I survive when I wake up from this fairytale?