Page 26 of The One Who Got Away

“Eight,” he uttered, the words thick and hot. “Sev-what the-?”

I answered his question with my mouth. I held the base of his cock with one hand, then lowered my rounded lips around his mushroom tip. I knew he was fighting to not reward me by moaning. There would be no ‘Good job, Cat!’ when I was flagrantly disregarding the rules, but not even Lincoln Carraway in all his controlled, guarded facade could stop me from feeling just how much he enjoyed my mouth. His body sighed his approval.

I spun my tongue around the head of him, moaning loudly enough for the both of us when I tasted proof that his body was a big fan of my headstrong streak. Pre-come coated my taste buds, warm and salty and wanton.

I knew that ten seconds had come and gone because I was counting to myself, counting in time with the sweeps of my tongue. Dashing down the shaft, lingering on that bulging vein that pulsed beneath his flesh, angry and engorged. I took his entire length in my mouth, surprising us both. I hadn’t been with anyone that was both thick and long like Linc, but I devoured every inch.

I grasped his balls, squeezing and tugging them the way I knew he liked, or that he liked once upon a time, anyway. Want sparked all over me like tiny supernovas when I realized that he was still a fan. No tender touches for me and my lover. No sweet nothings whispered in the middle of the night. Even before we realized there was a name for how we liked to play, dominating and submitting, we liked to push buttons. To dole out equal measures of pain and pleasure.

Just when I picked up the pace, ready to gag on him until he exploded in my mouth, he fisted my gold and brown strands and held me hostage, tongue grazing the underside of his erection.

“Time’s up, Cat.” His hold was military-like steady, quite impressive considering the current state of affairs. I stole a lick or three and he yanked my hair, wrenching a grunt of pain from my lips. I glanced up at him, tears stabbing my eyes from the labored breathing and the explosion of pinpricks across my scalp. Those three licks would cost me.

He loosened his grip slightly, just enough that I didn’t feel like he was about to remove a chunk of hair from my head, but he still held me hostage to his touch. To whatever tickled his fancy. From that twisted little grin that stroked his lips, I was in big trouble.

“How many seconds did I give you, Catherine?”

Uh oh. And not just because he used my full name. I thought he was lost in passion. Apparently, not so much so that he didn’t realize that I’d stretched ten seconds into a minute. At least.

To make matters, and the throb in my pussy, worse, he took his other hand and cupped my cheek. Sweet and fierce, just the way I liked it.

“I’m waiting, Catherine.”

A lie would make my punishment more severe, so I settled for, “I...Lincoln...er...”

“I stopped counting at twenty five.”

I knew I’d sucked him for much longer, but I wasn’t going to correct him, especially if an equivalent spanking was up his sleeve. So I just blinked up at him and managed a nod. “I’m sorry.”

The hand cupping my cheek balled into a fist and he dragged his knuckles across my chin, letting out a grunt of disbelief. “No, you’re not.”

He let go of my hair and stepped backward. I fell forward, catching myself with my palms.

“Take off your dress and lay on the bed,” he said sternly.

I scrambled to my feet, my body humming with excitement as I pulled down the straps of the dress and realized he was undressing, too.

Lincoln turned a simple, every day occurrence into my own private show. Fingers released buttons, muscles flexing in the waning light that filtered in from the windows. When he stood beside the bed, hair spilling into his eyes before he swept a hand through the dark strands and tucked it behind his ears, I nearly came on the spot. He was desire in the flesh, his body better than any dream. Men weren’t supposed to look like he looked in real life, without a drop of body fat. Muscled and toned from head to toe. It took me years to grow into my lean limbs and every day, week, month, and year had just cemented the fact that Lincoln Carraway deserved ‘Sexiest Man Alive, Period’ permanently.

And he wanted me.

Needed me.

Loved me.

Though, at the moment, he was pretty annoyed at me. He was lording control over his cock, despite the fact that he was so hard he could smash through several planks of wood. His eyes were gray and glacial, because my dress had only gotten as far as my hips when I started gawking at him in wide-eyed awe.

“Sorry,” I hissed, shimmying out of it the rest of the way and letting the dark material pool at my feet.

“Not yet,” he said darkly, beckoning me with a finger. “But just you wait.”

Human nature made me tremble wildly as I moved across the room to the bed, the covers untouched, white and as pure as the undriven snow. I had a feeling we were about to tarnish them with all kinds of sins.

Thrill and anticipation flew out the window when I reached the side of the bed and realized that I was just as naked, just as on display as he was. I ducked my chin, warmth scalding my cheeks and spreading to the swell of my breasts. The blush transformed me from the bold little tease a few moments ago to the submissive who was completely and utterly at his mercy.

I leaned into his touch when his fingers curled around my chin and his thumb lifted my eyes from the floor to him. I shouldn’t feel so safe, so free when his gaze was mad with lust, but I knew that this man would never truly hurt me. And there was my stupid heart that whispered, And he’ll never leave you again.

“Lay down, Cat.”

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