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Everything tightened—my stomach, my chest, my insides.Everything.
Before I could stop him, he shoved a long finger inside me.Oh, god.His touch was so much rougher than my own. I’d only ever rubbed my clit. I’d never venturedinside. It hurt. It hurt so bad I thought I might cry, but I didn’t want him to stop.
“Anyone else’s fingers ever been here?” His voice was strangled, like he was losing a battle against self-control.
I shook my head, breathless. “Just mine.”
“Jesus.” He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, working his finger deep, deep, deeper inside my pussy. He added a second one, and I just knew I was going to split wide open. And still, I couldn’t stop.
I gripped his shoulders and arched into him. My body moved on pure instinct and need for release.
“That’s it. Ride my fucking hand.” He kept fingering me, and I kept moving against him—hands on his shoulders, legs spread, pussy grinding, begging for more. “Christ, you’re so fucking tight.” He pulled his fingers out, inspecting them before bringing them just below his nose and inhaling my scent with his eyes closed. When they opened again, they narrowed on his fingertips.
Oh no. Oh, god. I wanted to roll off this bed and crawl out of the room.
Blood.
He had blood on his fingertips. My blood.
I was about to apologize when he took his fingers and smeared them across his lips. A low hum rumbled in his chest, something like a growl, like a monster waking from a deep sleep. And then, Lincoln licked his lips. He gave the monster a taste. It was a gesture so depraved and completely insane, but I was intoxicated by it. Something shifted at that moment. Nothing between us would ever be the same.Iwould never be the same.
His tongue ran over his bottom lip. “One hit and I’m already addicted.” He tugged on my shorts and panties. “Take these off.”
Panic crawled up my throat. Oh shit.Ohshitohshitohshit.“What? Why?”
He lifted a brow. “You scared?”
I’d known him for years. Lincoln wasn’t the guy who held your hand and asked if you were okay. He was the guy who broke your heart and made you cry in the first place.
Was I scared?
Hell yes. But not of his dick—even though it was fucking huge.
He took my hand and wrapped it around his cock. “Here. Just do as I say.”
I hadn’t answered him. I supposed I didn’t need to. He knew my fear. He saw it in my face.
I flexed my hand around him, pumping down, then all the way back up. His flesh was still wet from when I’d poured the water over him.
“A little harder,” he said.
I tightened my grip.
“Fuck yeah. Just like that.” His voice was thick with hunger.
I worked his cock while he thrust his hips, like it was me he was fucking and not my hand. Oh, god. We were doing this.Iwas doing this. Shame flooded every cell in my body.Wrong.Still, I couldn’t stop. He was like a magnet, gravity, a force my body had no choice but to obey.
“Shit. Stop,” he said.
So I did, wondering if I’d done something wrong, if I’d hurt him or if my inexperience turned him off.
And then he was crawling up my body, positioning his cock between my breasts, where my flesh glistened with sweat.
Oh.
He moved his hips, gliding his erection back and forth against my slick skin. “Squeeze your tits around me.” I did as he asked. “Just like that. Fuck.”
My boobs would be bruised tomorrow. I knew it. This was all so vulgar, so unexpected… so forbidden. But every time he moved, bringing his thick cock almost close enough to my mouth for me to taste, I licked my lips. I wanted this. I wantedhim.
