My cheeks heated with embarrassment because now I had to admit that I wanted him to touch me like this in his parents’ house. That I wanted this to happen. That it couldn’t fit into my dirty fantasies about him more perfectly than if I’d planned it myself.
As his fingers skimmed my wet lips, he groaned. “Fuck me. I was just going to tease you. Get you as worked up as I am, and then meet you tonight. But there’s no fucking way I’m letting you leave this room without sinking my cock into this little wet pussy.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to saywe can’t, but the words wouldn’t come.
“We have to hurry,” I said instead.
Lincoln lifted me off my feet and carried me across the room. I was too busy working my lips across his chiseled jawline to do more than notice the masculine interior of the room.
“I’ve wanted you in my bed since that first night. I’ve never been with anyone here.”
I lifted my eyes to his face. “Ever?”
“Never. Only you. And it feels so fucking right.”
He pressed me against the bed, and even though I knew this was a terrible idea, I couldn’t help but agree—it felt so right.
“Hurry. We have to hurry. I need you.”
Lincoln bowed to my demands and quickly stripped and donned the condom as I tugged off my shorts. He nudged my knees wider apart and slid the head of his cock along my wetness.
“You still have to meet me tonight. I want to go slow. Take my time. I hate rushing with you. You deserve better.”
At that moment, I’d say anything he wanted to hear, and promising to meet him again was no hardship.
“Yes.”
He pushed inside, and my body stretched to accommodate his size. I kept expecting the next time to be less incredible than the last, but somehow it never was. It was like Lincoln was on a mission to keep me addicted to him, and he was winning on every level.
When he thumbed my clit, I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my instinctive scream. My biting didn’t turn him off, though. It had the opposite effect. He turned wild, fucking into me like a man possessed. My orgasm crashed into me, and my body clamped down hard on him. When Lincoln came, he didn’t muffle his yell. The roar filled the room, and I froze beneath him.
Oh. Fuck.
“Lincoln!” I whisper-yelled his name. “Someone had to hear that.”
“Fuck,” he said under his breath and dropped his forehead against mine. “I’m tired of hiding, Blue. Tired of sneaking around. I wish we could just—”
I kissed him to silence his words. “We don’t have a choice.”
He lifted his head again. “We always have a choice. Sometimes I wish we’d get caught and that would take the decision out of both our hands.”
“Don’t you dare say—”
“Lincoln? Are you okay?” a woman said from outside the door as she knocked. “I heard you yell.”
“Please tell me you locked the—”
Before I could finish my plea, the door burst open and she stepped inside. Her eyes locked onto mine and recognition hit her face in less than a second. Mine followed a moment later.
Mrs. Riscoff.
“Lincoln Bates Roosevelt Riscoff, what is she—I can’t—”
Lincoln grabbed the comforter and threw it over us. “Mother, leave now.”
“That Gable whore’s daughter? You can’t possibly be—”
“Mother, I suggest you don’t say another word. Whitney is my—”