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“You are mine, as much as I am yours, Octavia. Don’t ever fucking forget that.”
Letting go of my hair, he slides his hand to my throat—his thumb and middle fingers on my pulse points—squeezing until my head falls back on his shoulder as he fucks me.
He’s in total and complete control as he times his thrusts perfectly. Evenly. Dragging out every fucking moment and driving me insane.
I love when he gets like this. When he uses that calculating side of himself in the best of ways.
When his free hand finds its way to my clit, and he pushes up with his cock as he circles with his finger, I about lose my mind. I moan as the combined stimulation awakens every nerve ending in my body.
With every snap of his hips, he grunts in my ear like he can’t stop himself.
His control is slipping, little by little.
It’s my favorite part of us. Feeling the moment his walls come crumbling down, and for a moment, he’s a mere mortal like the rest of us.
“Fuck, Octavia. Come all over my cock, beautiful.” And I do. I let it all go because I want to and because he needs me to.
Reaching back, I dig my nails into the back of his neck as my breathing is constricted by his tightening hold on my throat. It’s such a fucking high, the intensity of my orgasm is overwhelming.
“That’s it, give it to me.” Linc doesn’t relent, he fucks me like he’s losing his mind. Fucks me like he’s not ever giving me up.
I try to scream, but it’s in vain—his hold is too strong.
That’s when he turns my head, lets go of my throat, and crushes his mouth to mine, swallowing my cries as he comes deep inside me.
I’ve never felt more possessed in my entire life and I fucking love it.
* * *
Lincoln left before breakfast, with some excuse I was too boneless to hear coherently, so I’ve been lounging around for most of the morning. Smithy went to the Farmer’s Market with Matthew, so I decide to do something productive.
I’m going to read some more of my dad's journals and finally try to work out some of the insanity around me. Now that everything else is tucked away, things are a little less manic in my mind and I can actually focus.
I shower and get dressed, thinking that dressing like I’m going somewhere will make me more productive, before making my way back downstairs.
Just as I head toward the basement, the buzzer for the gate goes off, stopping me in my tracks. I head to the control box and see a black car sitting outside the gate.
“Hello?”
I wait for a response. The window rolls down, but I don’t recognize the man looking at the camera. “Car for Miss Royal. I was sent by Harrison to collect you for your meeting.”
Wait, that’s now?
Why the fuck did nobody tell me?
What if this is a trick?
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of a meeting today,” I say back into the mic. Seconds later, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
It’s an unknown number, but I answer it anyway—because, weird timing.
“Miss Royal, get in the car,” Harrison all but barks down the line. “Do not keep me waiting.’
The line disconnects, and I clench the fist not holding my phone.
Tripped up asshole.
I let out a deep breath, trying to calm myself and push the buzzer again. “I’ll be a few minutes.”
