Page 60 of Firefly Effect

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and something about his tone makes me wonder if he’s aroused by the idea.

Just to test the theory, I nod.

His eyes flash with desire. “We’ll get there. Together. Slowly. Just don’t stop, baby. I know you can do it.”

I push off his chest again, easing myself up to the crown before sliding lower, releasing a breath as I go. This time, I can feel my muscles relax just enough to take him deeper, so I do it again, rising and falling, gaining another solid inch.

“Yesss,” he hisses between gritted teeth.

I love knowing the pleasure is hitting him just as hard.

“You’re going to take all of me, aren’t you?” His mouth parts just enough for him to lick his bottom lip as he watches my next descent, which finally brings me to his base. “That’s a good girl.”

Loving his praise, proud of myself, I lean down and capture his mouth with mine. His palms glide to my ass, squeezing as I begin to pick up my pace. Every ounce of pain I once felt disappears from my mind, replaced with a new, intense pleasure. The way he hits me so deep, right where I need him, is creating an addiction. I know I’ll crave for the rest of my days.

I fuck him until my body starts to tire. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed stamina like this to keep up with a lover—maybe I need to join Lincoln on his runs or use my gym membership.

He must feel me beginning to slow because he flips us until he’s on top, pressing my thighs wide and slamming himself into me so hard the headboard crashes into the brick wall. Neither of us stop to assess the damage to the bed or wall, though I’m certain repairs will be required. Neither of us care.

He grips my wrists and holds them above my head with one hand while the other snakes under one of my knees and lifts it, giving him even more room to deepen his thrusts.

When I feel just how deep he can go, I scream, my head tilting back into the pillow and my back arching so high he might think me a contortionist. I’m anything but, hardly even flexible, but the way he’s moving my body is making me question anything I’ve ever known about my whole life.

Lincoln picks up the pace, and everything inside comes alive. My bed continues to crash into the wall, the old frame squeaking with each thrust, the comforter gathering and twisting beneath us in all kinds of directions, while my orgasm builds to the top of the tallest rollercoaster ever made.

“Linc,” I squeak out in warning.

His eyes flash in recognition. “Wait for me, Evie.”

His command is almost futile, seeing as he’s the one in control, but I somehow manage to hold myself off for several more seconds, desperate to feel his release in an epic collision with mine.

Just when I can’t hold out anymore, when my body begins to rock forward, ready to plunge into release, he growls out, “Now,” and I completely let go.

I give in to the freefall that takes me over the edge, trusting the journey even knowing it might just kill me. And I fall deeper in love with a man who has climbed so deeply into my soul, he might be trapped there for eternity.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

EVELYN

I’m close to falling into a deep sleep when a groan wakes me up.

“I should go,” Lincoln whispers.

Disappointment lances my heart. My arms are fully wrapped around his body, locking him to me like he’s my lifeline. Maybe he is, considering I haven’t felt this alive in… ever.

When he doesn’t make an actual move to leave, I smile and let my eyes flutter closed again. “What time does Lucy wake up?”

“Seven,” he says with a sigh. “I guess I could set an alarm and let Francine know.”

The regret in his tone is enough to give me a change of heart. “Maybe just stay for a little bit longer. You should get home and get some sleep before Lucy wakes up.”

His beard kisses me before he does, and my legs clench around his as I remember how that same facial hair felt on my pussy. Him carrying my scent when he kissed me only added to my arousal. This man can do no wrong, I swear it. He proved that last night when he barged inside me like an intruder, then made himself a welcome guest. More than welcome, in fact.

The kiss is so soft and slow—my head goes dizzy, and my heart thrums violently in my chest. How does this man exist? How is he real? And how has it taken so long for us to find each other?

“Damn,” he rasps when pulling away. “Is it too early to ask you to marry me?”

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