“Check in, baby,” he said, words low and raspy.
“I’m good,” I said quickly, even as tears prickled the corners of my eyes. “I’m so good.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Why do I like this?” I blurted.
Riggs had the pump bulb for the toy in his hand and his tattooed fingers stilled while he entertained the best way to answer.
“I think it’s very normal,” he said carefully, “to enjoy being with someone who makes you feel good.”
“It’s not normal to feel good by being hurt, though.”
“Says who?” Riggs licked the length of my cock, nipping at the flared tip with his teeth. My entire body jerked, even though I wasn’t able to reach for him, to tangle his hair in my hands and hold him steady between my legs.
“It’s just perception,” he murmured. “Interpretation.”
Riggs took the whole of my shaft back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking on me hard enough I thought he would turn my dick purple. It was impossible to focus on anything after that; nothing made sense except the wet cavern of his throat. I was so lost to his mouth I didn’t notice his hands on me, didn’t register the drag of his fingers over the place where my hip met my thigh, the sharp dig of his thumb into a pressure point there that had me seeing stars. At the same time he pushed into me, he bared his teeth against the base of my cock, biting me harder than most people would consider polite. I was not polite, and another shot of cum trickled out of my dick and into his waiting throat.
I managed a hoarse shout of pleasure, and Riggs moaned his approval before releasing the pressure point and my cock. He thickened the cock toy inside of me until I could feel my pulse in my rim, and I dropped my head against the pillow with a groan.
“Do you feel good?” he asked, and all I could do was nod.
There were no words for the way Riggs Ember made me feel, physically or otherwise.
Riggs notched himself between my legs and used his hips to fuck the swollen toy deeper into me, drawing a rumbling groan from the back of my throat. For someone who didn’t care about having sex, Riggs moved like he would have been the best at it. My first thought was what a loss, but it evaporated into thin air when he swiped his arm across my chest and took both of theremaining clothespins with him. Two matching pinpricks of pain centered themselves on my chest, and I sputtered through a cry, back arching off the bed even though there was nowhere for me to go.
Riggs collared his strong hand around my throat and pressed me into the mattress, hips still thrusting against my thighs. My eyes rolled back and I went pliant beneath him, content to let him bring me whatever pleasure he saw fit. He moved over me a few more pumps of his hips, then drew back completely, leaving me cold and bound on his bed.
He climbed off the bed and walked around to the headboard, undoing my ankles from my wrists and my wrists from the bed. He kept the cuffs on, massaging my muscles with strong fingers as he straightened me out, chuckling under his breath when the thick plug shifted against my prostate as I stretched out my legs. After sorting me out, he sank down into a green velvet chair tucked into the corner of his bedroom. With his chest bare and his legs spread wide, Riggs looked like a king and I found myself more than ready to worship at his feet if he would have asked it of me.
“I want to watch you come,” he said slowly, rubbing the heel of his hand between his legs, even though there was no visible bulge I could see from the bed.
“How?”
“I’ll leave that up to you.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face, muscles still quaking from the bondage.
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
“You can hump a pillow if you want,” he suggested. “You can come down here and ride my leg if you’d prefer. You can sit against the headboard and use your fist if that feels better for you.”
“I can use my hand at home,” I said without thinking, and heat flashed across Riggs’s face.
“Do you use your hand often?” Riggs asked, and the flush on my throat and chest answered before I could form the words. “How often?”
“More than before.”
“What do you think about?”
“You,” I admitted.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he angled his head to the side, rubbing his hands down the length of his thighs.
“What about me?”
“Anything,” I told him, no longer worried about trying to stay cool. The man had my cum dried and flaking off his jaw. He knew I was into him. There was no point in trying to hide my interest. “I think about the bathroom at Rapture and the first time I came over here. I think about all of it.”
