“I thought you were done with me,” I whispered.
“I was never done.” He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing hard. We started to move, and instead of guiding me up the stairs, he turned me to the bedroom that still looked brand new, still smelled like fresh paint.
That stopped me cold. “This bedroom?”
His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, trembling. “It’s ours. I couldn’t be in it without you.” He swallowed, jaw working. “I couldn’t sleep there knowing it was half empty.”
Something inside me cracked all the way open. I rose onto my toes, kissed him softer this time, slower, a silent apology. “Then take me in there, now,” I whispered against his mouth.
His breath caught. His eyes searched mine, raw, dark, unsure. And then something shifted. He nodded once, jaw tight, and without another word, he took my hand.
We moved through the hall like a current was pulling us, his fingers locked around mine, his steps sure. He pushed the bedroom door open, and the scent of cedar and dust hit me. The bed was still perfectly made, untouched, a museum of a life we’d both walked away from.
Lincoln stopped at the threshold, chest rising and falling like he’d run a mile.
“Linc,” I said softly, squeezing his hand.
He turned to me, eyes blazing. “I’m done waiting.”
And then he was on me again, mouth crashing down on mine, hands everywhere at once. Years of restraint snapped like a dry branch. He walked me backward until my knees hit the bed and we tumbled onto it together, breaking the careful symmetry of the covers.
I gasped when his weight settled over me, solid and warm. His hands slid under my shirt, calloused palms dragging up my ribs, over my breasts, teasing a shiver out of me. He pulled back just long enough to look at me, really look, like he was memorizing every detail.
“You sure?” he asked, voice rough.
I cupped his face, thumbs tracing the lines of his jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Whatever was left between us, anger, guilt, years of missing, ignited into something hotter. He stripped my shirt off in one motion, his eyes dark as they skimmed over me. He bent, mouth closing over the sensitive skin at my throat, sucking lightly until I arched up against him.
I tugged his shirt over his head, needing to feel skin on skin, to erase the distance with touch. His muscles flexed under my palms as I ran my hands down his back.
He kissed me again, slower now, deeper, tasting me like a man starved. His hands found my hips, thumbs circling, then slipping under the waistband of my jeans. I lifted my hips to help him slide them off, trembling with anticipation.
“God, Tin,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, every night.”
“Then take me,” I whispered. “Please.”
As his hands slipped beneath my waistband, a jolt of electricity shot through me, sending shivers cascading down my spine. I could feel the heat pooling in my core, a desperate ache I had longed to satiate. The air between us crackled with tension, charged with unspoken words and three years of pent-up desire.
“God, Linc,” I gasped, my breath hitching as he pressed me against the bed. I could see the raw hunger in his gaze, and it made me feel alive, like I was the only thing that mattered in this moment.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear.
“Take me, all of me,” I pleaded, every word laced with urgency. I wanted him to lose himself in me, to claim every part of me as his own.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he peeled my jeans down my legs, his eyes never leaving mine. The weight of his gaze ignited every nerve in my body, anticipation swirling around us like a storm. I felt exposed yet exhilarated, ready to surrender completely.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through me. I could feel my heart racing, each beat echoing the rhythm of our unspoken desires.
His lips found their way back to mine, and I melted into the kiss, deep, passionate, as if we were trying to consume one another. I could taste the need on his tongue, and it only fueled my own.
As he trailed kisses down my neck, I gasped, arching into him. “Linc, please,” I begged, craving the weight of him against me. He nipped at my collarbone, teasing me, driving me mad with desire.
In one swift motion, he positioned himself between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs as he spread me open for him. My breath caught in my throat, and the world outside faded away,leaving just the two of us and the heat building between our bodies.
“Tell me how you want it,” he said, his voice a dark promise that sent a shiver of excitement coursing through me.
“I want you inside me, now,” I breathed, urgency lacing my words. I could feel the heat radiating off him as he positioned himself at my entrance, teasing, just barely pressing in.
