Page 83 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

I waketo Outlaw’s hand creeping up my shirt. She’s warm against my bare flesh, her body heating mine. I let out a sleepy groan, my abs flexing beneath her sexy touch. I wish I could deny being turned on, but I can’t. My desire for her has done nothing but grow over the past weeks.

Her hand rubs my right pec, and she gives it a squeeze as she grinds her hips against my side. I’m not sure how long we’ve been napping. Judging from the darkness seeping in the window, we’ve been out longer than expected. I honestly haven’t slept this well in a while and didn’t think I would enjoy having someone in my bed. It’s great having her next to me and I curse myself for giving in to that. We’re doomed. Have been from the start.

Then why am I letting her continue to touch me?

Because I want her and my want is fierce, relentless.

“Outlaw,” I whisper and moan again as her warm hand travels lower and the tips of her fingers skim beneath the hem of my sweats. Blood rushes to my cock, the loose pants I’m wearing, hiding absolutely nothing. My cock tents the comforter, not disturbed at all by the weight of the blanket. I’m so hard it's uncomfortable.

“Riggs,” she returns, breathy and needy. I lick my lip as she scratches her nails down my chest, the touch light enough to tickle. I grunt against the onslaught and she giggles. Fucking giggles. Fucking hell, I’m screwed. Both figuratively and about to be literally. I tighten my grip on her, drawing her in closer. Her heat presses into me and she gasps into my chest, grinding against me again.

I can’t with her. She’s too sexy to just be laying at my side. I want more of her, the pressure of her body on my cock.

I drag her up and over me until she’s perched on my hips, me swollen and ready between us. “Riggs,” she moans out my name, half sleepy, half aroused. Yanking her down because I’m not patient enough, I smash my lips to hers, kissing her with so much ardor she has to rip herself away to catch a breath. Her hips are moving over me, egging me on, sending ripples of pleasure through me.

She sits back, draped by the covers and from the sliver of moonlight I can see the silhouette of her body, her tits heaving as she pants on top of me. She’s so hot, perfect.

I palm her ribcage, splaying my fingers wide and round her chest, her already hard nipples waiting for my touch. I sigh as she wriggles on top of me, reactive to my exploration.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she scrapes it with her teeth. She moves faster, to the imaginary beat of a song, her movements timed and precise. I like that she knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to take it, but I’m not sure how much more I can take of her riding me without being inside of her.

“I want you, Riggs,” she declares, brushing her lips with mine. I snag her hair, trailing kisses down over her jaw, tracing her neck, and on to her collarbone. She shivers beneath my touch and I chuckle.

“You like that, Outlaw?” I’m so hard I’m ready to explode, and I’m sure if she keeps moving to the rhythm she is, she will come soon. Her pants and soft moans are enough to warn me how good this is for her, and it might be the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I also don’t remember being this turned on in my life. Never wanted to touch every inch of a lover so much that I’m not sure where to start.

Charley leans back and grips my cock through my pants hard enough to make me squirm beneath her and hiss a breath, loving her touch on me. “And just what do you intend to do with me now?”

“I want you inside of me,” she says, eyes trained on my cock in her hand. She licks her lips again, the moonlight making them glisten.

“You’re sure?”

“Never been more sure in my life, Riggs. I want you now. I need you.” She isn’t lying. I can hear it in her voice. She’s thought this over plenty and she is sure of her decision.

I sit up with her still in my lap, my breathing labored with anticipation. I place my hands on her hips and press her back off of me.

She stiffens and even in the dim lighting of the room, I can see her lips twist with pain. A whimper escapes her. I release her immediately, drawing back.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“What? No?” Placing her palms back on my chest, she tries to coax me back to the mattress, but I don’t budge.

Reaching for the lamp on my nightstand, I pull the beaded chain to ignite it. “You’re hurt. Did I do this? When I pushed you to the ground?” The harsh quality of my words is even a shock to me. It’s not something I meant, but certainly a natural reaction for me.

“I don’t want to discuss this, Riggs. There is nothing to discuss unless you want to dive in and tell me about your past.” Normally, I love the way she doesn’t cower, the demanding edge to her when she’s determined, but just this once, I wish she would shut up and give me what I want.

Baring my teeth at the thought of jumping into what haunts me daily, I turn my head away. She already knows how to fucking get to me, and I have no clue what to do about it. My tone is softer when I say, “Show me, please.”

The argument I expect doesn’t come. She lifts her shirt without looking down.

Spreading out from an angry red line at her hip is a bruise still in the early stages. My body sags and the overwhelming nausea that pummeled me earlier is back. I clutch my stomach and swallow against the saliva pooling in my mouth.

I did this to her, even if not directly. I did this.Iput my hands on her, bruised her, hurt her. I’m disgusting, vile. Charley doesn’t deserve this; I don’t deserve her.

Even worse, I’m a coward and struggling to make eye contact with her.

I lift my hands as if I’m about to say something but drop them and squeeze my eyes shut.

I know what I’m about to do. “Are you okay?” I ask as I trace my fingers around the edges of the bruise. She doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just watches me.

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