Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
"Christ. You already feel like heaven." His eyes meet mine, all wild and greedy as he slips a hand between us, rubbing circles against my clit. "Maybe I'll make you come like this before I give you what you want and fuck you."
"Please." I'm not sure if I'm asking him to do it or to fuck me already. All I know is that the way he's grinding against me feels incredible. I want more, more, more.
He presses forward a little more, his thumb still circling.
The orgasm hits out of nowhere, blasting through me in a jolt that's all shock and awe and whimpering convulsions. Holy God. I cling to his shoulders, moaning.
"Jesus, Lilah," he groans, his eyes locked on my face like I'm the best thing he's ever seen. "You keep coming on my cock like that, and I might just keep you on it all night."
"Yes, please," I pant, aftershocks still pinging through me.
His lips curve into a reckless grin, the kind meant to break hearts and raise hell. My core clenches again, another wave of heat blasting through me. He dips his head, pressing his lips against my ear. "Look at you, being so fucking polite while you're dripping down my balls."
"Fuck me, Lincoln."
He chuckles, a gritty, dangerous sound, and then nips my throat before pressing forward. I cling to his shoulders, my head lolling as he splits me open, inch by perfect inch. He's so big, it's almost painful. Almost. But it feels too damn good to hurt.
Nothing has ever felt better than the way the silk of his suit brushes against my overheated skin while he fills me, groaning against my throat. Nothing has ever looked better than him, muscles straining, entire body rigid on top of me.
Lord, have mercy. I want to brand this moment into my psyche.
"Goddamn, baby," he groans, his breath pelting my throat when he's all the way in. "I could live right here. That pussy is wrapped so tightly around my cock, it's strangling him."
"He's welcome," I whimper.
Lincoln's raspy chuckle is everything. So is the way his lips attach to the side of my throat, his tongue flicking against my skin.
I drag my hands down his back to his firm ass, wrapping my legs higher. "Fuck me, Lincoln. Please," I beg.
He rocks his hips, pulling almost all the way out before he slams back inside me, just hard enough to inch me up the couch slightly. "Like this, baby? Is this how you want me to fuck you?" he asks.
"Yes!" I cry, nails digging into his ass. "God, yes!"
He growls against the side of my throat, rocking forward again. He doesn't go slow. He moves like a storm, his hips crashing into mine again and again. Every thrust pulls a moan from my lips. Every time he sinks his teeth into my skin, I pull him closer.
He fucks me like I'm the only thing that matters, driving into me until he's the only thing I remember. It's fucking perfect. So is the way he groans praise and filth in equal measure, sending currents straight through my veins.
"Harder," I beg, so damn close I can feel myself toppling on the edge.
He grabs my right leg, yanking it up over his shoulder. The change in angle is brutally perfect, forcing him so deep I can't breathe. All I can do is choke on his name as he pounds into me, his balls slapping against my ass in a way that stings just right.
"You look good full of me," he pants. "And you sound so fucking sweet when you're begging like that. Keep talking, sweetness. Tell me how fucking good you feel stuffed full of me."
"S-so good," I gasp immediately. "You feel so damn good, Lincoln."
"Going to keep you like this," he groans, his lips against the pulse hammering in the side of my throat. "I'm not giving you up now, Lilah. Not when you feel this goddamn good. Not when you make me ache like this." His teeth rake my skin. "Christ, baby. The thought of giving you up makes me crazy. Say you're mine."
I choke on his name, my heart clenching at the fervent way he says it, like he's desperate to keep me. Like he needs to hear it more than he needs air.
"Say it," he growls again, thrusting so deep I feel him in my soul. "Tell me that you belong to me."
"I…I'm yours!" They're the most terrifying words I've ever spoken, but as soon as I say them, I realize they may also be the truest. I feel like his, in a way that I've never felt like I belonged anywhere or with anyone.
He isn't just making me like him. He's stealing my heart, claiming entire tracts of it as if those pieces are prime real estate designed to house him.