I froze. I saw the reflection of Rigby in the large mirror at the end of the closet, leaning against the door jamb. I met his eyes, and there was no doubting the lust I saw there. He wanted me as much as I wanted him; I knew it in my soul. Well, somewhere distinctly lower knew it too.

So instead of saying anything, I just nodded. He ate up the distance between us in two long strides. I held the cups to my breasts as his long fingers deftly worked the hooks and loops of my basic bitch bra. Dammit, I should have put on my fancy underwear. Something lace. Not this old lady bra. Too late now, though.

I watched him in the mirror as he finished his task, then brushed his fingers down my spine reverently. My skin felt ten times more sensitive to his touch as he traced them down to the small of my back before lifting them away.

He looked up and met my eyes in the mirror, and his expression stole my breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Nova.” He lifted his hand again, and I watched in the mirror as it landed on my hip. He paused, as if waiting for me to move away, not realizing that I couldn’t move my legs because my knees were weak.

He traced his hand up the curve of my hip slowly, like he was memorizing the sensation. Those huge hands wrapped around my ribs. His thumb brushed the underside of my boob but missed my aching nipple.

“Baby, I’d really like to kiss you,” he said softly, his body now so close to mine that I could feel his warmth. “Can I kiss you?”

Obviously, the answer was yes. I wanted him to do more than kiss me. I wanted him to lie me on the floor of this huge closet and fuck me into oblivion. But it was a bad idea. I knew that.

My head nodded of its own accord. Rigby spun me quickly in his arms, and I gasped at the sudden movement. He took full advantage of my parted lips, swooping down to capture them in a kiss that I’d remember until the end of time.

I clutched his shirt as his mouth dominated mine, the press of his lips against mine firm and powerful, like he was consuming both my kiss and me. It was heady. It was erotic. All I could do was hold on for dear life. He continued to devour my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine, tasting me.