Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1180(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 787(@300wpm)
“You’re trembling,” I said, feeling more powerful than I had in my entire life.
“And you’re not just my pixie, you’re my vixen.”
Am I?
“Yes, babygirl, you are.”
I hadn’t meant to ask that out loud and it wasn’t exactly what I’d meant, but I let his answer be enough. Dropping my eyes, I was about to return to my tasting when I found the way impeded by what was a most definite tug on my hair, pulling my head back until I met his gaze again.
“I meant every word, Livvy. Pixie, vixen, naughty, or oh so very nice, you are mine.”
Though my heart leapt in my chest and tears welled in my eyes, I wasn’t capable of believing what he said was the truth. Not until he had us flipped and I was no longer above him, but beneath him and his eyes were drilling into mine.
“Repeat after me,” he demanded. “I am Lincoln’s.”
“I-I…”
“I. Am. Lincoln’s.” He repeated each word as if they were important enough to stand alone…
Perhaps they are.
“I… I am Lincoln’s.” His smile was like watching the sun rise as it kept growing until the light reflected from the depths of his eyes.
“Good girl. Again.”
“I am Lincoln’s,” I said without stuttering.
“And Lincoln is mine. Say it,” he ordered.
“And Lincoln is mine,” I parroted.
“Now put the two together and, little girl, you better say it convincingly or you’re gonna find out how three spankings feel.”
“Three! How can that be fair?”
“Because your Daddy says it is, Now, say it loud and proud.”
“I am Lincoln’s and Lincoln is mine!” I said and I realized I’d learned not only the taste of this man, I’d learned the truth of him as well.
“That’s my very good girl.” He dropped a kiss on my lips.
Before I could reach up to pull him to me, I squealed as I found myself rolling again until I was once more on top.
“You may continue,” he declared as nonchalantly as if he didn’t know he’d just rocked my whole world. When his brow quirked, his smile widened, and his dimple appeared, I understood not only did he know, absolutely nothing slipped past him.
Instead of huffing, I simply brushed my hair back over my shoulders and slipped both my hand and my lips around his cock again.
Chapter Seventeen
Lincoln
I thought I’d known what it was like to make love to a woman.
I’d thought wrong.
Nothing I’d ever done had made me feel the way I did holding a sleeping Livvy in my arms. She’d made me feel as weak as a newborn colt one moment and as strong as our largest bull the next. It wasn’t just the sounds she made as I returned the favor and tasted every single inch of her until she was begging for me to let her come. It wasn’t only the sight of her hands clenching into fists as I pushed her to the edge again and again or that mass of glorious red curls spread out across my sheets, or the picture perfect view I had of breasts that filled my hand as if molded to fit, or tightly peaked nipples that had become swollen from the kisses and nips I couldn’t seem to stop giving them. It wasn’t even the pure, raw need I saw reflected in the changing green hue of her eyes.
It was the trust she extended me.
It didn’t take a degree in rocket science to know that she’d been hurt. From the little she’d said, I knew that hurt had come at the hands of the two men she should have been able to trust. First her father and then the man who supposedly loved her had caused her to question the word of all others. Still, as hurt as she’d been, she’d looked up at me and repeated my words.
“I am Lincoln’s and Lincoln is mine.”
As I lay there in the darkness, I made a vow that I’d be having her repeating those words every day until there wasn’t a single hint of any doubt that she spoke the truth.
“Mine,” I whispered and brushed a kiss across a curl that had found its way onto my cheek. I was rewarded with the sight of her lips curling in her sleep.
This right here was what it meant to make love to a woman. Not the act itself, but the desire to touch, to hold, to simply look at her. With my newfound knowledge, I finally closed my eyes and went to find her in her dreams.
“Are you poking me for a good reason, pixie?” I asked what felt like five minutes after I’d closed my eyes but couldn’t be as I could actually see the hint of day with my eyes still closed.
“If the fact that I really, really, really love bacon and unless you get up, I’m gonna eat your share is a good reason, then, yes, I am.”