“Any time.”
“I wasn’t kidding though. I wanted you for breakfast.”
She had no idea how he could speak like that without dying from embarrassment. Telling her what he wanted without stuttering or his face going on fire was both impressive and attractive. Could she be that comfortable and confident some day?
“Lizzy?” Lincoln had rolled onto his side, facing her, head propped up on his elbow. “You gonna stand there all day?”
She took two steps toward the bed.
“…Or can I convince you to come sit on my face?”
Her jaw dropped open. Did he just…? He couldn’t possibly mean…
“Okay, wait, woah. Whatever horse left the stable in your brain right now, can we lasso it back? What are you thinking?”
“I’d suffocate you!” Her hand fluttered to cover her burning face as she groaned.
Mortified. She mentally willed Molly to trigger the fire alarm so she could escape the humiliation smothering her in the room.
When she dared to peek, he was in front of her, reaching out to stroke her face.
“You won’t.” His voice was as calm as his features and showed no trace of humor. He wasn’t mocking her. Did he really think she could sit on his face and he wouldn’t die? Surely, not.
She leaned into the warmth of his palm cupping her face, and sighed.
“If you really don’t want to try it, or don’t like it, that’s okay. But if it’s something you enjoy, or haven’t ever tried and would like to, I’m not going to accept ‘I’ll suffocate you’ as an excuse not to give it a go.”
She blinked. Who was this guy? Did they come more perfect? Sure he chewed a little loudly, but that couldn’t be the end of his annoyances, right?
Maybe he had ugly feet and she hadn’t noticed, what with all the ab-staring she was doing. Maybe he smelled bad… except he absolutely did not smell bad. He had to have somethingwrongwith him, didn’t he?
Maybe this was simply the honeymoon period, she was a novelty to him. She’d been a secret kept from him for so long, that him knowing Elizabeth and Cleo were one and the same was new and fun. It would wear off. There was no way he could be this… interested, all the time… right?
“Let me put it another way. Did you like it when you came on my face last night?”
Good Lord, this man would be the death of her. She nodded.
“Would you like for me to do it again?”
She nodded again. How flames weren’t bursting from her cheeks she had no idea.
“Do you want to try it standing up before you sit on my face? Like, leg over my shoulder?”
“Why are you so intent on doing this?”
“Little known secret, some guys fucking love going down on their girl. I happen to be one of them. I had you last night and it wasn’t enough, and while I’ll be disappointed if you don’t wanna grind on my tongue, it’s absolutely your choice.”
She was soaking wet. He was talking right to her clit and it wasn’t listening that she could suffocate the man. It just wanted his tongue.
Why was she second guessing this? He was confident he wouldn’t die and the heat pooled between her thighs reminded her she was aching to come again…
“Okay.”
His answer was silence and a wolfish grin before he slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a deep kiss. He ran his free hand over her shirt, and her nipple strained against the material. She shuddered. He trailed down the curve of her hip and ran two fingers along the inside of the band of her pajama pants. Her breath hitched as he cupped her crotch.
“So wet.” He ground the heel of his hand against her sending vibrations of pleasure rippling through her body. She shifted her weight from side to side, hoping the friction would be enough to send her pants to the floor, leaving nothing between his hand and her aching core.
No such luck.
