Chapter 24 #3
He laughs, squeezing me as he leans in, his mouth working up my neck until he catches my earlobe gently between his teeth. “You’re the artist,” he mutters.
“It might make the bandages peel off.”
“Don’t give a fuck,” he says.
I twist around him and pick up the glass from the sink, turning on the faucet.
He shifts to one side, studying me with heated eyes as I fill it up.
I turn and pour some water down his chest, and he squeaks a high-pitched squeal that makes me laugh, but I don’t stop, I just go back and forth pouring the liquid all over him, the hair darkening and flattening against his chest as the water trickles down and soaks into his jeans.
I twist and pick up the bar of soap sitting on the back of the sink, and start rubbing it across his pecs, being careful with his Band-Aids.
“No one’s ever done this?” I say.
“Nope.”
“What a waste,” I murmur, and he laughs, looking down at my hands sliding in the foam. I swirl it through the fur on his chest and his nipples.
“You like this?” he says.
“You’ve got a great chest, Rig.”
He smiles. “Back at ya, babe.”
He slides his hands under my ass and lifts me, mouth smearing over mine as I wrap my legs around his hips. He moves to the shower. “Like you touching me. Like watching it. Like feeling it.”
He leans forward and turns the handle with one hand, still holding me up with the other, and goddamn, I fucking love how strong he is and how he can do that, even when he’s injured.
He steps us into the spray, fully clothed, and I gasp as the water soaks into the back of my jeans and down into my underwear.
“Take your top off,” he rumbles. “I want to feel you against me.”
So I lean away from him and peel my soaking T-shirt over my head, my breasts slippery and wet as they slide all over his chest, and the feeling of the soap and his hair make an ache start right where I’m pressing into him.
I shift to rub against where he’s rock hard, and his groan vibrates through my chest.
“Love fucking doing this with you,” he mutters.
“Me too, Rig,” I gasp.
He puts me down on my feet, and my fingers latch on to the button on his waistband, hands shaky, as he undoes my jeans and pushes them down my hips.
I move my hands from him for two seconds to push my jeans farther down and step out of them.
Then I’m immediately distracted by the hot hard length of him pushing forward into my hand as I unzip him, so I delve into his boxers and wrap my hand around silky skin, rubbing my thumb over his tip.
“Jesus, babe, don’t do too much of that or this will all be over far too fast.”
He slides a hand up my hip and over my breast, squeezing. “Fuck, I can’t wait,” he rumbles. “Been thinking about this for weeks. We’ll do slow later.” He squeezes my ass. “You okay with that?”
I look up at his rough face with its Band-Aids and nod and nod. It’s been too long since I’ve had him inside and rubbing all over me.
“Condom in my front pocket, babe.”
I pull it out and rip it open with my teeth as he shucks his jeans and his boxers.
Then I roll it down his length, and he lifts me up and I guide him in in one smooth motion.
And I can hardly hold on to myself with how full and achy I feel.
My hands grip his shoulders as he pulls my hips into his, and he lurches me into the wall of the shower stall on a long groan.
“Gonna last about sixty seconds.”
“Need you touching me, Rig,” I gasp.
And then his fingers are there, and I’m arching my back, and the stretch and the slide is almost too much for me. It’s like the first time he was inside me all over again.
“I can’t … I can’t …”
But he doesn’t let up, and the hairs on his chest make my nipples all sensitive after the cold and his thumb, shivers running down me and coalescing where his fingers are pressing in. I tighten around him, and his answering rumble vibrates through me.
I lose his hand as he pushes me harder into the wall, grinding all over me and something catches, it’s rough and, oh Christ, it’s amazing, so fucking good.
My head hits the tiles with a thunk as I tip back, heat burning up from where we’re joined, rolling through my torso and my shoulders.
Before I can open my mouth to say anything, I’m shaking against him as my orgasm rips through me and he lets out a long groan in my ear as he explodes inside me.
Rig curls around me in bed later and yawns in my ear. I’m warm, he’s safe, and he didn’t die in a fight funded by the mafia. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more content.
“Moving my stuff in, babe,” he rumbles behind me.
I start laughing quietly into my pillow, but he can clearly feel me shaking because he says, “What’s fucking funny?”
“You are. You just tell me shit that’s going to happen. No consultation: This is the way it is.”
He huffs. “Quit bustin’ my balls when I’m asking if I can move in.”
I laugh even more. “That was you asking?”
“You got a problem with me movin’ in?”
I wrap my hand around where his is resting on my stomach. “No, Rig. No, I don’t.”
He grunts. “Changed my mind about liking the sass, babe.”
I squeeze his fingers. “Too late.”