26
He kisses me with hunger this time, like he can’t help himself when our lips meet. He squeezes my face in his hands and pulls me into him until there’s no space left.
He turns us in a clumsy shuffle until the back of my knees hit the bed and I’m tumbling backwards against the mattress. It creaks under our weight but he never stops kissing me, his tongue parts my lips. I can’t breathe and don’t care that I’m suffocating.
“Help me,” I breathe out against his mouth and grapple with buttons on my shirt.
His hands cover mine, pushing them away and undoing the buttons himself.
He tugs at the shirt, pulling it off my arms and tossing it away from us before unbuckling my belt and undoing my jeans.
He pulls them down over my thighs, knees and calves, his fingertips tickling as they go, and he finds a better, less rushed state to his adoration.
“Hi,” I huff, a lazy smile tugging at my lips. I fight the urge to speed him up again, but the way he looks at me is like a shock of electricity to my system, and it curls my toes into the mattress.
Riggs freezes, looking down at me with a mix of tenderness and desire in his eyes. Left in nothing but my bra and underwear I feel extremely exposed, but a small smirk plays on his lips as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my neck instead of continuing his path to undress me.
“Hi,” he murmurs against my skin.
I cup his face in my hands and make sure he hears me as his finger loops into the strap of my bra.
He pauses, his fingers carefully tracing the edge of the strap.
When he looks into my eyes, a silent promise passes between us as he slowly slides the strap down my shoulder and then the other, his knuckles brushing softly against my skin.
His lips find my collarbone and then the swell of my breast, he kisses each one softly like he’s worshiping.
His fingers unhook my bra delicately, careful not to pull it away too quickly.
He sits back, setting it aside, his palms flattening against my bare ribs as he covers my breast with his mouth again, his touch cautious, his body careful not to weigh me down.
I count each tiny breath as he moves across my skin, trying to stay quiet and still, but I want to touch him.
I need to feel everything, and more than anything, the distraction is necessary.
My heart beats hard in my chest and my fingertips itch with betrayal that my brain knows is stupid, but it’s there and I can’t help but feel it.
“Make me forget,” I whisper and he nods, understanding completely.
Riggs kisses between my breasts, tracing a line down my stomach as his hand slides over my sides like he’s trying to memorize every curve. He takes his time, kissing my hip as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of my underwear.
“Can I take these off?” he asks and I almost laugh at his polite nature in such an intimate moment, but I nod and wait.
Riggs pulls them down, his knuckles grazing my thighs before he tosses them aside.
His eyes never leave mine as he spreads my legs gently.
His hands trace the inside of my legs, lingering over my skin as he moves upward.
I sit up on my elbows as he moves, undoing his belt and pants.
His buckle clinks softly as it comes undone and his eyes flicker down to my hands.
He kicks them off, revealing black boxers before he climbs back up between my legs, his hands sliding up my thighs again.
He stops there, his hands bracing on either side of me, and I take the time to trace his features with my fingers, softly plucking at the curls that fall loosely against his forehead.
He hums low at my touch, his eyes closing briefly. His jaw relaxes, his shoulders soften.
I draw a line down the straight of his nose before brushing over the rounded curves of his cheekbones.
I find each scar that hides, tangled among the tan skin and sun-kissed freckles.
He turns his head into my touch and his lips brush against my fingertips.
His body tenses as they glide down his neck, memorizing his collarbones and he trembles as I graze his hardened stomach.
I can’t resist him, the way each touch unravels every knot that plagues him. My heart aches. Guilt and intense want tangle together and prick at the corner of my eyes. Riggs notices and his expression softens completely.
“Wait,” I exhale, trying to calm myself. “Just wait.”
“Cress.” His hand covers mine, stopping my exploration of his body and brings it back to his. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispers.
“It feels like I’m betraying him,” I admit gently. “I… I know he’s gone but… I don’t know how to explain myself. The panic.” I expect him to pull back but he doesn’t, he doesn’t create awkward space or leave me in the overwhelming fear that I’m screwing it all up.
His voice is low when he speaks again. “You feel guilty.” The statement is calm as his fingers lace through mine. “Look at me,” he asks and I lock onto his gaze. His thumb rubs my finger where my wedding ring once sat.
“I don’t want to,” I admit.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. I know he will if I say yes, it’s just who he is. His eyes search mine, looking for any sign of what I might need from him. “If this is too much for you, we stop.” His thumb pauses.
“No—” I cut him off.
“Alright,” he stops me. “Alright.” His lips brush against mine. “Breathe,” he says, his hand pressing to my chest as I inhale slowly. “No guilt, no ghosts.” His hips settle gently between my thighs, not pushing for more but letting me feel him.
“No ghosts.”
“Hey,” he pauses, lifting my chin again. “You’re allowed to touch someone else and feel good.”
I search his face for doubt but find nothing, at least nothing that feels as overwhelming as mine.
Koa was his best friend… He knows so much more about him than I ever did.
Secrets that make it easier for him to ignore the guilt of what we’re doing, how we’re feeling.
I swallow tightly and try to hold onto his words.
Riggs sees the moment when I stop fighting the guilt and just feel. His hand tangles in the sheet beside my head. It’s progress. I can hear him say it loud and clear. “That’s it,” he murmurs, pressing gentle kisses along my jaw. “Eyes on me, Cress.”
I watch him intently, every flicker of control, each glimmer of want.
I sink into it and forget myself, forget everything.
Riggs’s eyes stay on me as I lose myself in the moment, his heart still pounding in his chest as he leans down to capture my lips in a deep, languid kiss.
It’s filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back for all these years.
His hands roam my body gently, exploring every curve with reverence.
“I’ve got you,” he reminds me.
“Don’t let go,” I warn him as his hips roll forward.
He groans softly, the sound vibrating against my lips.
His hands slide down to my hips, gripping them lightly.
He does it again, pressing against me more firmly and giving me just enough pressure to feel him without taking it there yet.
He’s making a point, it’s slow and sweet.
A gentle attempt to avoid all the other negative thoughts.
I arch into him, craving the feeling and desperate to get lost in it. Riggs notices the hunger, the need for release. He pushes closer, his hips moving in small circles to give friction when his mouth covers mine again, swallowing the small sounds.
“More,” I tell him, mumbling against his lips. “I need more.”
“More what?” he asks softly between kisses. His hands move, his thumbs brushing the sides of my breasts. He pulses his hips forward again, pressing himself against my center. “Tell me what you need.”
“You.” I kiss him again, raking my hand into the back of his hair. “Just you.”
He growls against my lips, losing a bit of his control. He hooks his arm under my thigh, lifting my leg high around his waist as he works himself out of his boxers.
When he thrusts this time I feel him; all of him.
A warmth explodes and my lips fall open as he sinks deep and pulls me against his chest. He buries his face in my neck as he starts to move.
Slow, deep thrusts that fill me completely.
His hand grips my thigh possessively, keeping me open and wrapped around him.
It’s been too long since anyone has touched me, and it shows because I’m a mess in minutes, my entire body tensing around him.
Riggs feels everything, the sudden tightness, the sharp sting from my nails as I sink them into his back just trying to regain control of myself.
A low, primal groan escapes him as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of me.
It only makes him move faster, harder and driven by me completely coming undone.
He catches every moan, sweeping them into his mouth with his tongue as his hips work with deliberate quickness.
Riggs’ movements become more urgent, more needy. He breaks the connection to trail open-mouthed kisses down my neck, his hips snapping forward with increasing speed. It’s clear he's searching for his own release now, watching my expression, waiting.
He lifts me from the bed, setting me in his lap and never disconnects, never pulls away.
His kisses are hungry and steal the air from lungs quicker than I’m able to fill them.
It’s like he’s chasing after all the stolen time.
His hands hitch my legs around his back and proceeds to rake his fingers up my back as he thrusts upward into me and I meet him in the middle with matched fervor.
My breath hitches as he drags the orgasm from me, my toes curling as I curl my hands into his hair and grip tightly, never wanting to let go.
With a final, powerful snap he buries himself deep inside me just as the orgasm crashes over me.
He groans long and low against my neck, the sound vibrating up through his chest as his hips jerk unevenly and he comes with abandon.
His lips trail a line up my throat, and his body begins to relax against mine as we both work to catch our breath. His hands push the sweaty curls from my face and he kisses the corner of my mouth as our eyes meet.
“No guilt,” he says quietly.
“No ghosts.” I brush my nose against his with a lazy, satisfied smile on my face.