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Then Lincoln laughed. God, it was good to hear his laugh. Even if it was at my expense.
He didn’t tell her.
I smacked his chest. “You dick.”
“I got your dick.”
Suddenly I was lifted into the air. My arms hooked around Lincoln’s neck while my body pressed against his. He’d always been fit but now he was a solid wall of muscle. Probably four percent body fat.Dick.He smirked at me as he carried me down the hall and into one of the bedrooms—his I assumed.
He let me down long enough to yank my panties off then unfasten his pants. “You cheated, Songbird.” His eyes darkened with every breath he took as he walked us backward to the window, inching my dress up around my waist. The curtains were open, letting the soft glow of the moonlight fill the room. “You made yourself come all over my pants.” One hand skated up my throat to my lips, where he forced my mouth open and eased his thumb inside. The other hand tugged his underwear and jeans over his hips.
I swirled my tongue around his finger, sucking him in, tasting his thumb the way I wanted to taste his dick. My eyes were focused on the way his other hand reached down to stroke his cock. My god. If you looked upbig dick energyon Urban Dictionary, Lincoln Huntington’s picture would be the first thing you saw. There wasn’t a man alive who enjoyed his own body more than Lincoln. His hand moved up and down his length with the fervor of someone who knew what pure pleasure felt like and would stop at nothing to reach that peak. My pussy throbbed at the sight of it. I ached for it. Ineededit. As much as I loved watching him, I wanted more.
“What do you think I should do about that?”Stroke.He pulled his hand from my mouth and braced it on the glass beside my head, then brought his face in front of mine. I savored the tenor of his voice, let its familiar rumble swallow me whole. “You think I should make myself come too?”Stroke.“All over your pretty dress?”
Yes.
And no.I wanted to do that. I wanted to be the reason he came. I wanted to feel it inside of me, throbbing and thick.
I parted my lips to answer, but my mouth was dry.
He closed his eyes and moved his hand faster. Harder. With every stroke, his breath kissed my face.
I pressed my body against his, forcing him to stop. “No.” My voice trembled with raw need.
His eyes popped open. “No?”
I shook my head, and before the wordnoleft my lips, my back was pressed against the glass. He lifted my leg and hooked it around his waist. He was hard, thick, and right fucking there. Hunger, carnal and raw, tore through me. I let out a shaky breath, on the verge of coming again right fucking now as his lips trailed from the curve of my jaw to the hollow of my throat.
“Did you miss this?” he asked, dragging his piercing over my clit.
My body quivered at the sensation—a pulsing, throbbing cry formore.
Dark thoughts threatened their way into my head. How many other women had felt him against them this way since I disappeared? He hadn’t been holed up in a mansion the way I had this whole time. Was there someone out there waiting for him to come home?
He threaded his fingers in my hair, tipping my head back. “Hey.” He brought his face inches from mine, looking me in the eye. “Wherever you’re at right now, you need to get the fuck out of there and come back to me.”
“I was just wondering—”
He pressed his lips against mine. “No wondering. There’s just me and you.” He dragged his tip over my clit again, drawing a moan from my lips.Please.“Not yet, baby. The next time you come, it will be all over my cock.” And then, in one brutal thrust, he was inside me, making sure the dark thoughts were forgotten.
My head fell back against the glass. Lincoln stretched and filled me with every thick inch of him—all the way to the base—with each deep grinding thrust of his hips. My hands were everywhere. All over him. His shoulders. His arms. His ass, pushing him deeper inside me. He powered into me, skin slapping against skin, animalistic and fierce, like he couldn’t go hard enough, couldn’t get deep enough. Every punishing thrust shoved me against the window until I worried it would break. His teeth scraped my skin, marking me, claiming me—a physical reminder that this was real. I wanted those marks everywhere. I wanted to wake up every day for the next week and remember this moment, this feeling.
He slid his hand inside my dress, popping the buttons open as he went, and pinched my nipple between his fingers. The pressure built in my core, tightening up then boiling over and pouring out.
“Fuck. Lincoln.” Another wave of pleasure rolled over me. “Fuck yes.”
Sweat coated his skin. He licked his lips, then sucked my tongue into his mouth. One more push of his slim hips, one more violent thrust, and he was coming inside me.
My body went slack in his arms, wishing I could stay here just like this, completely sated and full of him. God, I’d missed this. Him. The feel of him. The scent of him. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair.
He lifted his head, stopping to stare at something over my shoulder. His nostrils flared, and the hand he’d had braced against the window lifted and then slammed against the glass again.
What the fuck?
“Lincoln?” I said, turning my head to see what had his chest heaving all of a sudden.
His eyes narrowed, and I followed his gaze. Right to Grey. He was standing on the beach just outside the bedroom window. His hands were in the pockets of his tan linen pants, and his white button up shirt was rolled up at the sleeves.
And Lincoln had his hand pressed against the glass, middle finger in the air. “What thefuckis he doing here?”
My leg fell from around Lincoln’s waist and my heart lurched to my throat. It wasn’t shame that washed over me, it was guilt. Having Grey know about Lincoln and knowing he’d seen us were two completely different things. It felt like a betrayal, even though in my heart I knew it wasn’t.
Lincoln gritted his teeth. “And why the fuck is he watching?”
