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“So goddamn sexy,” he said as he rocked his hips back and forth, gliding his cock over my slit.
I was there already, teetering on the edge of pleasure. It was burning and building and bubbling until I almost couldn’t take it anymore. “Lincoln, please.”
He caged me in with his arms. And then he was there. Inside me. Stretching me. Filling me. Owning me with every vicious thrust.
He leaned down and trailed his tongue up my neck to my ear. “You were made for me.” His teeth nipped the edge of my jaw. Then my lips. And my throat. With each slam of his hips he marked me. “Come on my cock, baby. Cover me in you.” He pressed his pelvic bone against my clit, and I shattered.
I splintered. Waves of pleasure, blinding and intense, rolled over me.
“Scream for me, Songbird.”
And I did.
Then he reached for my hands, locking our fingers together, and came with a growl.
Lincoln rolled onto his back, resting one hand behind his head and pulling me onto his chest with the other. We both stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours when finally he broke the silence.
“I love you.” He stayed focused on the ceiling but his heart beat wildly against my head on his chest. “I should’ve said it then.” He swallowed. “I just needed you to know now.”
I took in a breath as tears blurred my vision.
He loved me.
I’d always felt it—or at least I thought I had—but he’d never said the words out loud. A rush of emotions wracked me.Joy.I’d been waiting years to hear those words from his lips.Sadness.Would things have been different if I had known?Desperation.Because it felt a lot like an apology and a little like a goodbye.
Say it again. Say it a thousand times.
But I knew he wouldn’t.
I should’ve been overjoyed but instead my heart was breaking.
I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his burning eyes. “I love you too.”
He swallowed hard. “Lay on your back.” He leaned over me, opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a black Sharpie. He popped off the cap and brought the tip to my shoulder. “You ever wonder what you would look like with tattoos?”
Not really. But I loved the way they looked on him.
“You’re drawing tattoos on my body?”
He shrugged one shoulder and kept brushing the tip across my skin.
“Can you at least tell me what they are?” I watched as he created swirls and lines in delicate patterns. He had a gift. It made me wonder if he’d designed his own tattoos. I suppose creativity was a natural byproduct for someone whose mind never slept.
He rested on his side and propped up on one elbow. “I don’t know yet.” He continued a path down the top of my arm, stopping at my elbow before coming back up. “Do you trust him?” He was talking about Grey. It had been the elephant in the room since he visited the theater five days ago.
“I think so.” It was the most honest answer I could give.
Lincoln wrote a line of Roman numerals along my collar bone, then continued with the swirls and patterns. I tried my best to stay still as the soft tip tickled my skin.
His hot breath ghosted my flesh when he blew over the ink for it to dry. My body rolled on instinct and he chuckled. “Hungry for my dick so soon?”
Starved.
“We have all night, baby. And the rest of our lives after that.” He sounded so calm, so confident. I wished I felt the same.
The marker made its path over the crest of my breast and around my nipple. “I almost killed a man.” He looked up at me and my lungs froze as I watched the brightness in his eyes shatter and crack like ice on a lake. His hand stopped moving. “It was during a fight. I had just found out…” His words trailed off like he was lost in thought. He swallowed hard, then looked back up at me, resting his chin on my chest. “I was gone. Lost in the darkness. I almost cranked his neck, and I didn’t even realize it.” His voice was quiet, tortured.
I brushed his hair off his forehead, then placed a palm on his cheek. “But you didn’t kill him.”
“I would have if Deuce hadn’t stopped me.”
My heart pounded at the regret in his eyes that dulled his spark.
“Before Grey decided to get all noble and shit, I had already decided that I would kill him.” His voice was raw, every emotion laid bare. “And if he changes his mind tomorrow and tries to kill me first…” His mouth ghosted my lips. “There will be no Deuce to stop me. In case you’re worried. In case you’re afraid. I want you to know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” He crushed his lips to mine, brutal and fierce. He bit and sucked and claimed my mouth as though he were demanding my soul. And I gave into him. Into his regret. Into his anger. Into his pain. His hand moved to the side of my face. His fingertips dug deep in my hair as he held tight, taking the kiss deeper and making my whole body pulse with need. His other hand ran up my side, bruising my skin with his grip. My body rocked against his thigh, rubbing friction where I craved it most. He growled against my mouth, and I recognized the metallic taste of blood when he finally broke the kiss.
Lincoln dragged his thumb across the blood on my lip, then brought it to his own, smearing it before he stuck it in his mouth. “You are a permanent fixture in my soul.”
I looked down at my ink-covered flesh to find roses, dozens of them sprouting from thorny vines and consumed by flames.
