“It looks worse than it really is,” he offered, kicking the door closed, dragging me against him and turning the dead bolt on the door.
I twisted in his arms and rose on tiptoe to inspect his eyes. They were mostly swollen shut and a butterfly stitch was placed in the corner of his right eye.
“It looks clean,” I commented, cupping his face with my hands and turning his cheek to inspect the other eye. There was blood in the corner of his eye, hinting to a bleed but nothing too severe. I dropped my hands to his shoulders and ran them down his arms. I had never seen him in anything other than jeans—tonight Riggs was wearing a loose pair of black sweats and a gray fitted hoodie, looking less of a biker and more like a laid back trainer. I don’t know where he had the time to workout but he definitely made it his business.
No one ate chocolate pudding and cookies and looked as good as he did.
I wanted to drag the zipper of his hoodie down with my teeth and trace his abs with my tongue.
I bit my lip and rubbed my sweaty palms against my thighs.
“Are you okay?” I asked, hoarsely.
“I’m fine babe,” he assured, taking my hand and walking us toward the couch. He paused and bent down to lift the baseball bat that sat next to the couch. He winced again, sighing heavily in pain, before straightening up and glancing back at me with a smirk.
God, that smirk.
“Practicing your swing?” He teased, sitting down on the couch and pulling me onto his lap.
This was new.
“It’s a precautionary measure,” I insisted.
“Right,” he laughed. “Little Miss Safety,” he quipped, reaching up and pushing my hair over my shoulder. “Sorry I missed batting practice, Kitten,” he said huskily, as his eyes dropped to my lips.
“I know enough to know I’m not supposed to ask questions but…” I wrapped my arms around his neck, “…it’s kind of hard not to ask, looking at you like this,” I said, as I ran my fingers up the back of his neck where the rim of the backward baseball cap rested.
“Lauren,” he protested as I pulled the hat off his head. “Shit,” he ground out.
“What the hell is this?” I demanded, moving the hat out of his reach as he tried to take it back.
“My barber got mad at me,” he tried to cover, offering me his smile, knowing I was a sucker for it. But it wouldn’t work this time. He usually wore a hat but the few times he didn’t—I loved Riggs’ hair. It was the perfect length to run my fingers through, and even though I hadn’t done it all that often, if ever, some asshole with a razor robbed me of the chance.
“I hope you didn’t tip him,” I replied, playing along with my handsome…friend.
I hated that.
More today than yesterday and even more tomorrow.
He leaned back against the couch cushions and lazily stared back at me, watching as I cocked my head to the side to inspect the damage. I noticed the numbers shaved into his hairline and ran my fingertip along the fuzz, tracing the two, then the five and finally the zero.
“I can fix it,” I said, turning back to meet his gaze. “Make it all even for you,” I explained.
“Florence Nightingale is a hair stylist too?” He questioned, as his hands ran down my sides, playing with the hem of my shirt.
“I’m a jack of all trades,” I replied, brushing the hair away from his face. “What do you say?”
“If I say yes does that mean you’ll get off my lap?”
I nodded, holding back the frown that threatened my face—that was kind of a dickhead thing to say.
“Then, no,” he said, treating me to a wink.
And there he went being sweet again.
I smiled widely at him, prying his hands off my hips and climbed off him.
“I promise to sit on you when I’m done,” I said, pausing mid stride, knowing he was sitting there with a smirk on his face. I chanced it anyway and glanced over my shoulder to see his lips quirk.
“A promise is a promise,” he warned.
“I said I’d sit on you,” I called, as I fished through the drawers for a pair of scissors. “I didn’t say what part of your anatomy I’d choose,” I joked.
“I’m just going to throw it out there—I’ve had a killer day and could use a little loving,” he hinted.
“Yeah? And?” I said, plucking the scissors from the drawer and turning around.
“And I’d really like if you sat on my face,” he pointed out.
I should tell him that’s what I wanted too, just to shock the shit out of him but my poor Tiger had had a rough day so I went easy on him.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, pointing my finger toward him. “Don’t go anywhere,” I warned, narrowing my eyes at him.
He held up his hands in mock defeat and I figured it was safe to grab a comb from the bathroom but by the time I found a comb in the cabinet under the sink, his body was hovering over mine.
“Jesus, Riggs,” I croaked.
“Since you’re giving me a haircut I thought it’d be easier if we did it in the bathroom,” he suggested, as he sat on the toilet seat. He moved his arms and cringed as he drew the zipper down his sweatshirt and worked it down his arms.
I gasped when I saw the large red marks that covered his body and reached out to touch them but he grabbed my hand and I diverted my eyes to his. He shook his head.
“They’re not there,” he started. “Ignore them,” he continued, throwing his shirt onto the counter before spreading his legs and pulling me between them, locking them around me. “How ‘bout that haircut, Kitten?”
I swallowed, reaching across the counter for the spray bottle and misted his hair so it was wet, then ran my fingers through what was left of it. I heard the groan rumble low in the back of his throat, encouraging me to thread my fingers through his hair again, this time I tugged the ends and tilted his head back so he was looking up at me.
“Keep your head straight,” I instructed, positioning his head so he wasn’t looking up at me anymore and looking straight ahead. I ran the comb through his wet hair, snipping here and there.
“How was your day?” He asked after a few moments.
“Uneventful, until you came home,” I replied.
“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to start staying here with you,” he said hesitantly.
“It’s your place, Riggs,” I reminded him. “If I get in your way—”
“Cut it out, Lauren,” he clipped, interrupting me and tilting his head upward to look into my eyes. “I want you here,” he added.
“Okay, then,” I whispered, cupping his chin with one hand and forcing him back into position. “Stop moving,” I ordered.
“Are you always this demanding?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I teased.
“Yeah, I think I would,” he answered immediately.
I ignored the comment, learning that reading too deep into Riggs would only hurt me. He was unattainable and the more time we spent together, the more he consumed my every thought. I was going to suffer a major heartache—his name was Riggs.
I continued to cut his hair in silence, willing myself not to look at the marks on his skin and happy that some of his tattoos covered the grueling red lashes. I ran my hand over his hair, checking each side to make sure it was even and there was no trace of the number some asshole decided to put on his head.
“I think we’re done,” I said, inspecting the crew cut he was now sporting.
“Thank Christ,” he hissed. “I don’t know how much more I can take,” he stated.
“Anxious?” I asked, taking a step backward so he could glance in the mirror. He didn’t move. He didn’t get up or turn around to look at his new hair style, instead he stared at me.
“Had your nipples saluting me for the last twenty minutes, Kitten. I really appreciate the no bra thing but not when I’m horny as fuck,” he rasped.
I didn’t know words could deli
ver empowerment, but they did, giving me the courage to give into temptation. I took another step backward, watched as my poor battered Tiger peered at me with one lustful eye.
That look was all for me.
Maybe he did want me.
Or maybe he was just horny.
I was horny too so I decided to just go with it.
What was the worst that could happen?
Become pregnant? Ha!
Decision made.
I fingered the hem of my t-shirt, building up my courage and watching him intently. When his good eye glassed over and he growled, I pulled the flimsy fabric over my head. I balled it up and threw it on the counter with his sweatshirt.
I swallowed down my doubt. Doubt that this man wanted me the way I wanted him and rocked the confidence buried deep inside of me.
“How horny are you, Tiger?” I asked, arching an eyebrow as I stepped toward him. My breasts swayed with each step. They were bigger, heavier even, and my nipples always seemed to be erect and sore…so goddamn sore. My belly was still flat which only accentuated the flotation devises I had for breasts.
Riggs reached out, grabbing my hips and pulled me back in-between his legs.
“You giving me the green light, Kitten? Tell me you’re giving me the green light.”
I didn’t even know what that meant but as his hand glided up my stomach and his thumb brushed one of my nipples, I didn’t care to know either.
“Had a long day, didn’t you, Riggs?” I said, throwing one leg over his thigh and taking a seat on his knee. “A man deserves to relax after a day like yours,” I added, running my hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him closer so my breasts brushed against his chest.
“You’re killing me,” he gritted out, bowing his head to kiss the curve of my breast.
“I just want to make you feel better,” I argued arching my back, pushing out my chest. “Think I can do that?”
I ground myself against his thigh as my teeth sank into my lower lip, I took his hands and worked them over my body until each hand grabbed a breast. Thatta’ boy.
“My Kitten’s a little tease,” he growled, squeezing my tits. It hurt and felt like ecstasy at the same time, making me crave his mouth on them. I was hoping he’d use more than just his tongue and treat me to his teeth. There was an animal caged inside of Riggs and I wanted to be the girl who unleashed it.
“Maybe you’re not the only one feeling a certain kind of way,” I whispered, against his ear before taking his earlobe between my teeth.
“Say it, Kitten. Tell me how you’re feeling,” he demanded, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “Christ, your tits are perfect,” he growled, pushing them together before burying his face between them.
“I’m just as horny as you,” I panted, riding his leg, desperate for any sort of friction and frustrated that I wasn’t getting what I needed. I pushed him back, climbed off his lap and grabbed his hands forcing him to his feet. “You sure you’re up for this?” I asked, glancing at his nasty eye.
“You gonna send me to the couch with blue balls, Kitten?”
“Just making sure you’re up for the ride,” I said, taking his hands and wrapping them around me as I led him out of the bathroom.
“Who’s riding who?” He asked, sliding his hands beneath the elastic of my leggings.
“Oh, Tiger, I’m riding you,” I affirmed, turning around in his arms and walking backward into the bedroom. I shimmied the leggings down my legs, along with my thong, and kicked them off the rest of the way. I could see his erection bulging against his sweats and moved closer to him, palming his cock before circling his body.
Tight ass.
Broad shoulders.
My Tiger was easy on the eyes, that’s for sure.
I rounded him and stared at his chiseled chest and the v that dipped into his sweats. I decided Riggs may not be mine forever, but he was mine for now, and for now I’d enjoy him. I pushed him toward the bed until the back of his knees hit the mattress.
“Lay down,” I ordered, pushing down his shoulders until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. I slipped my hands inside his pants, dragging them down his legs. He was completely nude and his dick was pulsing for me. I positioned myself on my knees, placing a hand on each of his thighs and forced them wide open. I let my hands feel their way up and down his calves and thighs as I leaned into him and brushed my tits against his dick.
His hands fisted my hair and he pulled me back, forcing me to arch as he leaned down, his mouth finding the base of my neck. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh before his lips worked it over, applying just the right amount of pressure to leave a mark. His mouth went to work, traveling from my neck, across my collar bone, down to the swell of my breasts, leaving his mark all over my skin
Riggs was branding me...
His Kitten…
His property…
All his.
Property of the Tiger. Little did he know with every mark he drew with his mouth, I drew one of my own. My branding may not have been visible to him but it was to me. Every touch, every sweep of my tongue against the bruises that marked his skin, branded him mine.
Mine to take care of.
Even if it was only for tonight.
I pulled back, trying again to take his cock into my mouth, to lick his arousal that glistened from his thick head, but again he forced my head back so my eyes met his.
“You wrap that sweet mouth of yours around my cock and this will be over before it even started,” he grunted. “Get up here, Kitten, let me lick you,” he said.
“I want tonight to be about making you feel good,” I protested.
“Make me feel a fuck of a lot good, getting to taste that pussy of yours,” he swore, as I stood up maneuvering myself so I was straddling him. He laid back against the mattress and stared up at me, reaching around to dig his fingers into my ass. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he whispered. “Come on, give it to me, girl,” he coaxed.
I bit the inside of my cheek and he grabbed my ass, dragging my body over his, my knees dipping into the mattress on either side of his head. He took hold of my hips, lifting me up before he raised his head from the mattress and pressed his mouth against my core.
He groaned like a starving animal, taking that first taste of his prey, and I lost my mind.
Gone.
See ya.
Everything faded, and all that existed was Riggs.
He moved his fingers to my lips, spreading me open and his tongue lazily lapped at me. I gripped the bars of the headboard and leaned over his face, my head hung low as I watched him devour me.
He sucked one lip before switching to the other and grazing it with his teeth. Two fingers dragged across my wetness before he plunged them inside me and flicked his tongue over my clit. I tried to be careful of his eye, of his stitches, but something told me Riggs didn’t care if he went blind in one eye as long as he got me off, he’d deal with the sacrifice.
He was a keeper.
He ate pussy like a champ.
I might never let him go.
I think I might grow an addiction to his tongue.
His fingers moved in and out of me, stretching me enough to fit a third and that’s when I lost myself. I didn’t give a shit about leaning all my weight on him. I didn’t care if I suffocated him. All that mattered was seeing what he could do to me and I started to ride his fingers.
He tricked me, removing his fingers, replacing them with his mouth. I rode his mouth just the way he wanted me to. His wet fingers travelling up my body to pinch my nipple was pure ecstasy.
“Come all over me, Kitten,” he hissed, his words vibrating off my pussy. “So fucking good,” he grunted.
I arched my back, braced one hand on his shoulder, the other wrapped tightly around the wrought iron headboard as my hips bucked. I was right there, just a little more… He gave me one lavish lick, nuzzled his nose against my clit and it w
as over. I fell over the cliff, my body convulsing against his mouth as he drove me to the single most gratifying orgasm I had ever experienced.
The rest of my body stilled as my pussy quaked with the aftershocks of my orgasm and I tried to catch my breath when I heard Riggs chuckle. My head snapped down and I glared at him.
“Are you seriously laughing right now?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
I moved, trying to lift my leg and crawl off him but he grabbed me and rolled us over so I was on my back and he was on his side.
“I’m laughing because you’re not what I expected. You’re so much more,” he explained, leaning over me and pressing his lips against my mouth. “Open your mouth, taste how fucking delicious you are,” he dared, as his mouth hovered over mine. I pouted, trying to decide if that was a compliment or not. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth, forcing my lips apart with his tongue and did exactly what he wanted to, giving me a taste of myself. I spread my legs as he moved between them, his cock pressed against me, teasing me, taunting me until I lifted my hips and pressed up against him.
He broke the kiss, his lips lingering above mine as he gazed at me.
“Lauren.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Just making sure you’re real,” he said, before he sank his dick inside me. I didn’t remember much about our first time, but I don’t think it was anything like this. I hadn’t been paying attention to detail that night. Details like how I felt every inch of him. Details like how it felt to know what sex feels like without a condom. He was the first guy I didn’t use protection with. The sex was so much better bareback, skin to skin, nothing but him and me.
I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn’t find my voice and concentrated on moving with him. One deep thrust and I felt so full, wondering how I took him so easily that night at the compound and if it was possible he was bigger.
It was my turn to laugh as I imagined him taking penis enhancements.
He pinched my nipple.
“Ouch.”
“New rule,” he grunted, as he pulled out of me. I parted my lips but my objection died on my tongue as he pounded into me, harder, wilder, without resolve.
Reckless Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 4) Page 21