Page 30 of Succumbed

He hums as his lips close on my clit once more, and I lose the battle to stay still. My back arches and I thrust my hips toward him, seeking friction, pressure, anything as long as it’s more. More, more, moremoremore–

“Ah, why’d you do that? You were doing so well.”

His fingers fall away as he shifts back into a kneeling position. The heat and dominance in his gaze is intoxicating, and I want nothing more than to please him. What the hell? When have I ever wanted to please someone in bed? What the fuck kind of sex magic is this?!

He smirks, as though he can read my thoughts. “I know this is new for you. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m going to make this all so worth your while, Lex, I promise.”

I can only throw my head back against the pillow in frustration, my jaw almost chattering with the tension that still grips me.

“But I asked you to stay still, and you didn’t.”

He places his palms on my inner hips, then sweeps them out and up my sides in a long, slow stroke. It isn’t pressure or friction where I want it, but it’s delicious all the same.

“How should I punish you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, and I quiver in anticipation of what he’ll choose. It isn’t fear, but excitement–hot and thick in my core. I keep my eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of his hands on me, his touch featherlight in one moment, then firm and commanding the next.

“Pick a number between one and five.”

I lick my lips as I convince my vocal cords to work. “Three,” I croak, my voice rough and thready.

He hums his approval. “Three’s a good number. Color?”

“Green,” I hiss and he slips his hands down my legs to the ankles, then back up along my inner thighs.

His fingers brush mine, still braced on my knees, as they pass. I shiver at the contact, peering up at him. As I breathe deeply to steady myself, he pulls his hands away completely. His gaze meets mine, his warm brown eyes glittering. I want to ask what he’s planning–

Smack.

I yelp as his hand makes sharp contact with my pussy, my body jerking involuntarily in response. It’s surprise more than pain that makes me cry out, but the rush of pleasure after has me moaning and fighting not to let my body bow.

“One.” His voice is firm, and he smiles broadly at me. “Oh, Lex, you’re stunning. Look at that flush. So responsive for me, so good.”

He trails his fingers along the redness creeping onto my chest and neck, a look of wonder on his face. I stare up at him, lost in him while he appears lost in me and don’t even see the second strike coming. My eyes slam shut as his hand makes contact with my tender flesh, my fingernails digging into the skin of my knees in a desperate bid to obey and be still. Oh god, why does that feel so good?

“Two.” The throaty satisfaction in his voice has a direct line to my core.

Between the throbbing in my clit, the sting of my swollen pussy lips, and the bite of my nails, I’m untethered. Teetering on the edge of orgasm, poised so close it will take but one gentle press of my clit to send me right over. I crack my eyes open in time to see his hand whip through the air, the momentary anticipation making me flush from head to toe.

“Three,” he growls, then descends on me. “You can move. Let me see what I do to you.”

I almost weep in relief as I release my knees, my fingers sinking immediately into his lush chestnut waves as he sucks my clit into his mouth once more. He hums, encouraging me, and I grip his hair and thrust my hips forward, grinding into him. Every lick, lap, and suck has me trembling. My breathing shallows and quickens as the wave builds, my pleasure gathering with unfamiliar force low in my body.

“Are you ready to come?” He looks up and I groan at the sight of him, face wet from my juices, eyes glinting with desire and approval.

I nod frantically, and he smirks, dragging his fingers along my entrance again, teasing.

“I want to watch you,” he murmurs. “Show me how you come apart. Show me how you break.”

His fingers spear into me and I gasp at the intrusion, throwing my head back as pleasure licks fire along my skin. He strokes against the top of my channel, finding that perfect spot with nearly clinical precision, and I cry out as my orgasm crashes through me, wave after powerful wave. I’m vaguely aware of Lincoln praising me as I writhe and ride out my bliss on his hand.

“Again.”

The aftershocks continue as Lincoln keeps stroking, then he grazes his teeth along my clit once more. I sob as the pleasure redoubles, almost painfully, and my body locks into one long line of tension–waiting, shuddering, so close. He sucks like a man possessed and a second orgasm comes screaming out of nowhere to rack my body.

Linc slows his pace, then gently pulls his fingers from me. I’m boneless in my afterglow and manage little more than a tiny whimper in response. His lips pave a wet path up my body, then his fingers press against my mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he commands, his eyes dark with desire, pupils blown.

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