“Come back, come back, come back,” I hurried him, beyond caring how desperate that sounded. I felt desperate, because nothing else in the world would satisfy me except having his body laid out over mine.
“This what you want?” he teased, coming back over me again and lining our bare cocks up just right, sinking his weight against me. “Just like this?”
God, that deep voice got to me always, but especially now, especially like that. And I didn’t think I’d be able to hear him say any damn thing ever again without thinking of that moment.
Jesus fuck. I could not believe how hard I was. How close to the edge I was with hardly any contact at all.
The last few months aside, I’d hardly been a monk. I’d had more than my share of sexual partners, and I knew exactly what I wanted from each of them. I’d have told you, had you asked, that I’d lost my taste for quick-and-dirty frotting around the time I got over my fondness for lukewarm keg beer, which was to say sometime before high school graduation.
But this, with Riggs, was something next-level, something primal and raw. I had no technique to impress him with in this, and no artifice to hide behind either. I was one hundred percent pure need.
I felt cracked open, like some part of my soul was on display, and I couldn’t fight that any more than I could fight my attraction to him. Maybe it was because of the setting, far away from reality. Or maybe it was because of the hot, hushed night that made it feel like we were the only two people in the world. Or maybe because it was him. This guy I didn’t even know if I liked, but who I wanted more than my next breath.
I dug my fingertips into the firm muscles of his ass cheeks, molding and spreading them, urging him on. Our breath mingled as we panted open-mouthed in the still air. A bead of sweat ran down Riggs’s forehead onto my face, and I didn’t care. Riggs was fire, and I wanted him to consume me.
“You,” he gritted out, almost accusingly. He nipped the edge of my chin, then licked the bite. “Fuck.”
I threw my head back and groaned. He was so much, this man. Overwhelming my senses, short-circuiting my brain.
“Come for me, Duchess. I want to know what you sound like when you fall apart.”
Oh, shit.
“Riggs!” My legs stiffened, and my toes curled into the sleeping bag beneath me. I realized dimly how damn wrong it was that my body obeyed his command, bypassing my executive function entirely, but I couldn’t care because just like that, a tremor shook me from head to toe.
I came and came all over my stomach, with Riggs following behind me just a second later. He collapsed against me, like maybe his arms had given out, and for a moment I held him there, all his weight grounding me to the earth as we both caught our breath.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered.
Riggs snorted. “Yes it was,” he said, and I giggled—giggled!—helplessly.
But as my toes stopped tingling and my body cooled, I swear I felt the air pressure in the room change. It was like we both came back to our senses at the same moment and realized exactly what—and who—we’d done.
Riggs cleared his throat and got himself back into push-up position. He stared down at me, opened his mouth like he was going to speak, then hesitated. He rolled smoothly to his feet and headed to the bathroom without a word.
Mother. Fucker.
I squeezed my eyes shut and thunked my forehead with my palm. What the hell had I been thinking? If I’d been actively brainstorming ways to make the situation between us even more tense, I couldn’t have come up with a better option than this.
“Hey.” Riggs came back a second later carrying a wet cloth. In the light from the bathroom, I saw that he was still completely naked, but his face was firmly arranged into his default expression of Impatient, Impersonal Bodyguard, so he might as well have been wearing armor.
He stood over me uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to offer to clean me off.
I snatched the cloth from his hand and quickly mopped myself up before tossing it aside. “Thanks.”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. He rubbed at the back of his neck while I stared up at him. Belatedly, I realized he was probably staring down at me because I was lying on his fucking Cinderella pallet and he had no place to sit unless he chose to sit next to me, which he clearly didn’t want to do.
Face burning, I clambered up onto the bed and turned away from him. I heard a rustling noise that meant Riggs had laid back down on his sleeping bag.