Little Lamb

51 ❦ die 4 you

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My back pressed against his chest, his broad arms wrapped around me like steel bands. My skin prickled where his fingers traced the curve of my hips, the dip of my waist.

"I always loved these curves." he whispered, lips brushing against the back of my neck, soft at first, but then his teeth sank into the tender skin of my shoulder, pulling a gasp from my throat.

My knees buckled, and he caught me, holding me upright as his mouth traveled lower.

"Riggs." I moaned.

"Lola you're so fucking beautiful that my dick gets hard and I have to come."

He grinded his hardness into the curve of my ass and I arched back into him, my head falling against his shoulder. My fingers twisted into his hair and tugging hard as I turned my face toward him.

He captured my mouth with his in a kiss that was sweet and desperate. His tongue swept against mine, teeth nipping at my lips, as if he wanted to devour me whole.

My body melted into his, the world falling away until there was nothing left but him.
I moaned his name again and again.

"I love you Lola." he murmured against my lips. "I'll never get enough of you."

I didn't want him to stop. I didn't want to wake up. But then, like all dreams, it shattered

I woke with a start, my chest heaving, the ghost of his touch still burning on my skin. My heart pounded, and I pressed a hand to my lips, swollen from the phantom kiss.

Beside me, Alex lay asleep under the covers, his chest rising and falling in slow breaths. His face was bruised, his knuckles scraped from the fight, and guilt twisted in my stomach as I stared at him.

I should have been thinking about him about how he'd fought for me tonight, how he'd tried to protect me even when I didn't need it. But all I could think about was him.

Even when Riggs was all bloodied, bruised, and hurt, there was something about him, something dark and completely fucked up that pulled me in. He wanted me, even in his most vulnerable moments, and there was nothing sexier than that. Guess I'm a little sadistic.

I squeezed my thighs together, trying to ignore the ache, the slick heat pooling between my legs. My panties were soaked, the dream still fresh in my mind. I shouldn't. Not here. Not now.

But the need was overwhelming, and before I could stop myself, my hand slipped under the waistband of my underwear, fingers finding the wet, swollen heat of my mound.

I bit my lip, stifling a moan as I teased my clit, circling it slowly, imagining his hands instead of mine.

My breath hitched as I thought of him his rough voice, his possessive touch, the way he looked at me like he wanted to ruin me. I pictured his teeth on my skin, his lips murmuring filthy promises in my ear as he ground into me.

I moved faster, circling my clit with desperate pressure, my other hand pressed firmly over my mouth to muffle the whimpers threatening to escape. My body tensed, pleasure building in tight until it crashed over me, my thighs trembling as I came hard.

I bit down on my hand to keep from crying out, my chest rising and falling as the pleasure slowly ebbed. But the guilt hit me just as fast.

Fuck. What did I just do?

I lay there, my fingers still sticky with my own need, staring at the ceiling as regret curled in my gut. I couldn't think about him like this. Not anymore. Not when Alex was right there, bruised and beaten because of him.