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His thick length pulses inside of me as he descends from his high. Our heavy breathing is the only sound in the room.
I push my feelings way down. After all, I was the one who said it could just be fun.
So why does it not feel like that suddenly?
Lincoln’s head falls forward. His mouth finds mine and he kisses me with such gentleness and intimacy.
Sealing our hot bodies together, he tenderly nuzzles into my neck. “You feel like the part of me that’s been missing.” I’m not sure he meant to say that out loud. He’s so quiet.
I suck in a breath and my heart flutters in my chest.
It’s then I realize, deep down within him, the little abandoned boy still lives there.
My real life lost boy. I want to spend every hour with him to keep him safe and heal those broken parts.
His soft lips kiss my neck.
Rolling us onto our sides, I keep my legs locked around his hips. He keeps kissing my face, my cheeks, my temples.
In his strong arms, I feel so adored and completely treasured.
I’ve never before had anyone pay me such special attention after sex.
We kiss slowly.
I moan when he pushes the seam of my mouth open, then slides his tongue into my mouth.
Teasing each other, our kiss deepens as the desire we have for one another reaches a new level. He sucks my tongue into his mouth and butterflies dance in my stomach at how much in tune we are with one another.
I thought our intimate encounter would douse the fire that’s been burning between us the past couple of days to get us out of each other’s systems, but it hasn’t. All it’s done is make it burn brighter and hotter.
He slides himself out of me and I whimper.
“Let’s have a shower, then I’m going to spend the rest of the night making you come with my mouth and my cock. I want to lick every part of you, my sweet Petal.” He’s so quiet when he talks, barely a whisper.
My sweet Petal.
My heart just gave out.
“I’ve been desperate to go home to Scotland. Now I don’t want to leave,” he mumbles inaudibly.
“Fate is messing with us.”
“I hate fate. It’s not my friend.” He pulls me closer, engulfing me with his addictive scent.
“It’s not mine either.”
Six weeks.
CHAPTER 11
Violet
I’m mad.
I stomp down the three flights of stairs while tying my pale-lilac dressing gown around my waist at the speed of light.
The morning sun beats through my glass house style home. If this was my house, I would have half the amount of windows in it. It’s already too hot.
