EPILOGUE

“Fuck, Riggs. Harder, please.”Riggs thrusts into me, giving me exactly what I asked for, knowing the lengths he needs to take my body to get what he wants, what I want.

We were supposed to be stretching, working my legs so I can see how skating goes, but like most stretching sessions, it turns into a giant fuckfest.

I’m not complaining in the slightest. Months went by without him touching me because it terrified me I’d feel nothing. About three months ago, after way too long, he finally convinced me to let him try.

Walking had become a little easier, and I could do it on my own, so I hoped that connecting with him in that way, skin on skin, would work.

I missed our connection. Our explosive sex life, and it would devastate me if that’s all we were in that way, an explosion that left only embers in its wake.

Sex wasn’t easy, and I didn’t orgasm, but I could feel him, what he was doing to my body. There were a few embarrassing moments, lots of tears, but Riggs carried me through all of it, telling me he was right there with me and wouldn’t let me go. He worshiped my body that day like he’d never done before.

I fell in love with him all over again. We solidified our connection, and it ruined me for anyone else. Ever.

No one can stand a chance at making me feel like Riggs does. He’s my life.

Riggs kisses a line down my stomach as he fucks me. Breath heaves into my lungs and anything coming out of my mouth is just a jumble of incoherent thoughts. He has my body wound so tightly, my nerves on edge, begging for release. Hands intertwined and splayed out to the side, he slows his pace, bringing me down, not ready for me to come yet. It’s been his new thing, denying me of my orgasm.

I think he’s just as happy as me that he can, that I can still come, so he likes to fuck with me.

It’s all in good fun until I return the favor and believe me, I do. Just call me the blowjob master. Months of practice have earned me that title. I bring him to his knees every time, and it’s the sexiest thing to watch him beg me to let him finish.

“You better move faster, Jester. I’m ready to come.” I squeeze his hands in warning when it’s pointless. He’s going to do what he wants. Sex is this man’s forte, and he fully enjoys every moment while making me absolutely crazy for him.

“Are you? You want to come for me?” He slides back in, a slow, tortuous movement, stretching me wide around him until he’s fully seated. His eyes roll back in his head when I clench around him. “Fuck, this pussy drives me wild. You drive me wild.”

When his eyes open, they’re ignited with heat, with a lust rooted so deep it’s ingrained in them, like he will never get enough of me.

“Do you need more?” Riggs checks in, knowing my body doesn’t work the way it used to. Most of the time, I need much more stimulation than I used to. He’s spent many hours exploring those avenues with me, getting to relearn my body and what makes me tick right along with me. It’s safe to say he has thoroughly enjoyed the process.

“Just your cock.” With that, he pounds into me, setting a pace that is sure to damage me if I don’t come soon. “Holy fuck, Riggs. I–I’m…”

“Come for me, Outlaw, let me see you shatter.”

Sparks ignite, starting at my toes and shooting up my legs, warming my belly and tingling my spine. My orgasm rocks through me. “Riggs!”

He groans, his body trembling as he comes, his arms nearly buckling at the elbows. Stilling, he buries his face in the crook of my neck as he takes a few deep breaths.

“I missed this. Missed watching you fall apart for me.”

“Me too.” I stare at him dreamily and reach up to run my fingers through his bronzed hair, then I cup his cheek and kiss his bottom lip.

“Are you ready for today?” he asks me, peppering my face with sweet, tender kisses.

“Yes, and no. I’m sort of terrified. What if I can’t skate anymore?”

“Your doctors and physical therapists all said that is no reason you shouldn’t be able to skate. And I’m sure you haven’t forgotten how.” With one last drawn out kiss to squash my argument, he rolls off of me and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of our bed.

His body is beautiful. Where he was once thin and in need of a meal, he is now lean, solid muscle, toned and yummy. Bulk isn’t what I would call the amount he has tacked on, but he certainly isn’t lacking in strength. Fighting has done him well, given him an outlet, and all the training has only made him more beautiful. Tattoos now crawl over his entire chest and back, the Japanese scene on his back covering his ass. He’s even started shopping for more clothes and while his style is still grunge, he’s added a few black button downs and jeans that come ripped. He enjoys taking me out and showing me off and I have to admit; we are a damn good-looking couple.

It’s mainly him though, but he’d argue and tell you it’s all me.

I haven’t felt the icy air of the rink in what seems like forever and it’s a bit of a shock to my system, but one that I’m hard-wired to enjoy. Adrenaline and the nerves of a pregame practice flood my body, heightening my senses. Even if skating today is an epic failure, my body knows no other reaction and I’ll have to get it to go away.

I can think of something I’d like to do. A devious smile creeps across my lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Riggs nudges me with his shoulder and while he is smiling as well, there is a bit of concern in his eyes. I think he’s equally worried about this day as I am. He won’t say it, but he doesn’t want me to be let down if this doesn’t go well.