“There you go, wife. That’s my girl.” He groaned, long and low as he curled his fingers, stroking that spot inside me. “I can feel you, so fucking desperate to come.”
I whimpered, rocking my hips against him. Needing…something. More, faster, harder…I didn’t know. Just that I was so close but not close enough.
“Relax, baby. We’re not gonna rush it.” He continued curling his fingers inside me as he flicked my clit with his thumb. When his pinkie brushed against my back entrance, I damn near shot off the bed.
“Linc—” I gasped, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, pulse a galloping racehorse in my chest.
He hummed, a self-satisfied sound. “Feel good, wife?”
“Yes,” I breathed, rolling my hips, so damn needy for more.
Reaching up with one hand, he cupped my breast, brushing his thumb across my nipple before pinching it and giving a sharp tug. I couldn’t hold in my moan, not when he was working my body like he knew exactly what I needed. Working it like he owned it.
“Look at you. Those fucking wet dream tits and this cunt… All pink and swollen and ready for me.” He worked his fingers inside me, the sounds filling the room wet and filthy and perfect. “I’m the only one who’s done this to you, aren’t I?”
Whimpering, I nodded because I couldn’t do anything else. He was right. He was the only one who’d ever seen me like this—strung out and desperate and aching for more.
“Your mouth, Linc—” I reached for him, slid my fingers into his hair, and tugged him close. “Please. I need your mouth.”
Instead of teasing me, he gave in immediately, leaning in and adding his tongue in tandem to his thumb, creating a jumbled mess of sensation that drove me wild. All while he pressed more insistently against my tight hole, and my pussy pulsed an erratic rhythm, desperate to come.
He kept his eyes locked on mine as he flicked his tongue across my clit, and then he slid a third finger inside my pussy, his pinkie just breaching my back entrance, and I shattered.
The orgasm ripped through me before I could brace for it. It wasn’t soft or slow, no rolling waves of bliss. No, this was wild and volcanic, molten heat searing through my veins as my pussy clamped down on his fingers and my thighs locked tight around his head. He groaned against me like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
The only thing he wanted to taste for the rest of his life.
It wasn’t our reality, but it was easy to trick myself into believing it was true. Especially when I looked down at him and found him staring back, eyes dark and hooded, his mouthsoaked with my come. He looked feral. Desperate. On the brink of losing control.
He looked likemine.
CHAPTER THIRTY
WILLA
I needed him inside me.Now. With a desperation that was altogether foreign to me. Sex had always been fine. Something I’d done with a few people, but nothing I’d ever craved.
But this? With Lincoln? This was something else entirely.
I reached for him, my body still shaking, my pussy throbbing for more. “I need you inside me.”
He groaned against me, gave my clit one final flick of his tongue, and stood. His cock was thick and hard, sticking straight out from his body and looking intimidating as fuck.
Shit.
What was the sex equivalent of my eyes being bigger than my stomach? Because I was pretty sure I was living that reality, except my pussy was the one in danger now.
“Fuck, you’re big,” I breathed, unable to drag my eyes away from him.
He huffed out a pained laugh and gave one firm stroke up his length, precome spilling from his head and over his fingers. “You’re already saying that, and I’m not even inside?—”
His words cut off, and he froze, eyes snapping to mine. “Fuck.”
“What?”
He dragged his other hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.”
“What?” I asked again. “What is it?”
