Page 43 of Wicked Fury

Then don't. Handle your own mess and I’ll handle mine.

Jeremiah has a full time job trying to pretend nothing is going on between him and Oakley.

Finally, Penn responds with his typical bullshit.

My Dipshit Brother

Well, this should be fun. Can't wait to see what kind of trouble you two get into by playing house.

Shut the fuck up Penn

I say, rolling my eyes at his response.

I set my phone aside, my mind already drifting back to Iris. I retrieve my switchblade from my nightstand, absentmindedly flicking it open and closed as a nervous tic.

Without thinking, I pull back the sheet, revealing the curve of her hip. I lift the hem of Iris’ t-shirt, exposing her breasts. The edge of the knife traces gentle lines over her skin, leaving faint red marks in its wake and I know I should stop, but I can’t help myself.

“Mine,” I murmur, the word slipping out like a prayer or a curse—I can’t tell which anymore.

“Beautiful,” I catch myself saying, my voice nothing more than a rasp. It’s not just her looks—it’s the raw vulnerability, the way she trusts me enough to sleep while I’m consumed by this… hunger. For connection. For her.

I shift closer, drawn by a force I can’t resist. My fingers hover above her cheek, desperate to feel her warmth. But I hold back, clenching my fist instead. Can’t touch. Not yet.

“Lincoln?” Her voice is a drowsy murmur, eyes still closed. She’s dreaming, maybe about me. Maybe not.

“Go back to sleep, angel,” I whisper. The thought of her dreaming of anyone else twists something inside me.

Unable to resist my desire any longer, I roll over until I’m above her, positioning her legs apart, spreading her wide open for me and exposing her bare pussy. I run my fingers up and down her legs and through her wet slit, feeling her arousal. I can’t take it anymore. I need her, and I need her now.

“Lincoln,” she moans my name again like I’m the only fucking thing she could possibly be thinking about, arching her back and pressing against my hand.

“Shh, baby,” I say, careful not to disturb her anymore. I like her like this, soft and compliant. It’s a stark difference from her bitchy barbie persona she puts on.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” I murmur, probing her opening with my fingers and scissoring them inside her. Her moans only heighten my own arousal.

“Please, Lincoln,” she begs, but I’m not ready to give her what she wants just yet. Leaning over, I spit directly on her pussy and my fingers, using them to push my saliva into her and the lewd sounds we make have my cock so hard I think it could split my basketball shorts.

Iris fights the drug coursing in her system that makes her slow to react, but her tight cunt does all the talking for her. Fuck, I want to crawl into her and make a home in between her walls where she can never dig me out. Embedded in her very foundation.

She cries out in pleasure, and I know that I have her right where I want her. I continue to play with her, driving her closer and closer to the edge until she’s begging for release.

“Please, Lincoln, please,” she moans sleepily, and I can’t resist any longer, forcing a third finger in her tight channel and leaning down to suck her plump little clit in my mouth and I bite down hard. I feel her orgasm triggered as she grips me harder and then a gush is rushing over my hand, and I feel droplets of her climax hit my neck.

Fuck. That’s so fucking hot.

The need to own every inch of her has me dragging my wet digits down until I start circling and rubbing against her asshole. It’s forbidden and I’m going to claim it. Not today, but one day. She falls back asleep after her sleepy orgasm and I’m ready to come and go the hell to sleep myself.

I pull down my shorts and stroke my dick as I look at all of her. Every inch of her, from her pretty fucking face to her perky tits, down her curvy sides, and her firm calves. All of it belongs to Blackwood. No, belongs to me. I spread my legs to brace myself, so I don’t fucking fall on top of her as I punish my cock hard and fast. Each pass of my fist from root to tip and back again has my balls drawing up tight and ready to burst.

It doesn’t take much longer before I feel my vision blur and then my own orgasm hits and I ejaculate onto her pussy mound, making her my own little toaster strudel.

I rub my cum into her skin because I refuse to wipe myself off of her. She’s going to wear all of my marks. I do pull her shirt back down before laying back down beside her, and covering us both with a blanket, finally succumbing to my own sleep.

Chapter 18

Iris

My eyelids are traitors, heavy and uncooperative as I will them to open. The light slicing through the blinds is an assault, a stark contrast to the cocoon of darkness I wish I could crawl back into. My head pounds in protest, a reminder of last night. I was exhausted enough to pass out with Lincoln in the same room, which says a lot right there. I feel boneless, like my entire body is sated in a way that I can’t say I’ve ever experienced before.

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