“All right,” he says, kissing me and adjusting his grip to tease my clit with his fingertips. “Nothing to report for me either,” he adds, softly stroking me.
My thighs are wet already, and I rub against his cock, making sure he knows how sure I am. I want this. I need him.
“Fuck, darling. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
He lifts me up with one hand, using the other to position himself. We fumble it the first time, but I don’t care, because he’s here, and he loves me, and I get to touch his laughter with my tongue and drink in his groan when he finally slides inside me, raw.
Yes.
Lincoln runs his hands up my back, tangles them in my hair, and I let my head fall back. He takes the opportunity to run his teeth down the sensitive part of my neck before soothing it with his tongue.
All while being buried deep.
I swear I can feel his heartbeat through his cock. Or maybe that’s mine. He attacks me with a kiss when I squeeze around him, my silent plea for him to move, to fuck me like he promised.
“I love you,” he breathes into my mouth, rising to his knees and slamming his hand against the wall behind me.
Then he moves.
God. Fuck. How did I ever exist without him? Without this?
He fucks me with the same single-minded determination he uses for everything, filling me in long, deep thrusts, his fingers leaving bruises on my hip. His words stamping their place on every corner of my heart.
“I want every part of you, all of it. I love your messes. Christ, you don’t know what it does to me to wake up and see you in my apartment. You don’t even have to be there, just leave something behind?—”
I tangle my hands in his perfect hair, gripping it between my fingers, kissing everywhere I can reach, rolling my clit against him.
“Whoever and wherever you want to be, I want you. I’ve looked my whole life for you. I’m not letting go now.”
When I come, it rolls over me in a wave so overwhelming I bury my face in Lincoln’s shoulder, my cry muffled against his skin. Sweat sticks my hair to my forehead, and he pushes it back as he picks up his pace, and god, his thighs must be burning, but he doesn’t stop until he’s groaning into a kiss, and I feel the hot pulse of his dick as he comes inside me.
Exhausted, we slump into the bed in a conjoined heap, neither of us seeming to want to let go yet. If it didn’t mean staying in this cold monument, I’d stay like this for a week.
Lincoln dots a series of gentle kisses over my face, his palms searing as they cup my cheeks. I’m too busy floating to do much more than lie there and sink into them.
Because this isn’t any other Ivy, and it isn’t Lincoln playing a game. It’s him and me and us, and the ice my heart has been treading over has completely and utterly melted, slipping into the warm bath of his affection.
It’s incredible.
No holding back, not anymore.
No, I’m going to give everything over, because he wants it, but more than that, he can handle it. Gently. With care. With love. And he does.
“Love you,” I whisper when he disappears and returns with a washcloth, cleaning me up with a tenderness that threatens to spill my heart out onto the sheets.
I should probably do something back, not just lie here and soak in the pleasure, but it’s hard enough to think. Besides, he doesn’t look like he’s complaining. He likes me this way— compliant, supplicant. Loves it.
So do I.
Strange to think all I needed to do was give myself permission for this. A lifetime of worrying about chasing passion, and why?
Maybe the rest was fleeting, but Lincoln isn’t. Could never be. He’s immovable.
Persistent.
When he says he’s going to prove his love, over and over, I know he means it. And even though he doesn’t need to prove it beyond this, because I believed him before he ever said the words, felt it in every kiss since the beginning, before I would ever let myself accept it, I know he won’t stop. I won’t stop.
CHAPTER50
