Page 61 of Lillian

I keep pumping her through it, my hand much slower now until her body stops shaking and sags against the bed.

“So fucking hot,” I grunt and use that same hand to coat my dick in her cum. I hover over her, and she opens her legs automatically for me. With one hand, I guide my dick to her entrance and slide in, all the way to the hilt.

She wraps her legs around me and pulls me down for another kiss. Then I grab her hips and lift them up as I pump into her hard and fast. Not wanting slow. Not wanting sweet. After a week of not seeing her and barely talking to her, I’m being greedy.

“Fuck, you feel good. So tight.” It’s my turn to mumble, but she’s beyond caring. Her eyes are glazed over with pleasure and her hand reaches down to rub circles over her clit as I continue my relentless assault, pumping into her over and over again.

This is what heaven feels like. Lil starts to tighten around me impossibly harder, and I grunt, continuing to thrust through it as she comes around my cock. A few seconds later, I feel my balls draw up, and an animalistic noise rips from me as my hips still and I fill her up with my cum.

When my balls are empty and my cum is dripping down her legs in a way that has an intense amount of pride soaring through me, I flop down beside her on the bed.

She snuggles up to my side, throws a leg over mine, and rests a hand on my beating heart. I cover hers with my own. Bright blue eyes peek up at me through dark lashes. “Welcome home,” she coos sweetly and rests her head on my shoulder before falling asleep.

Welcome home, indeed. Fuck me. This kind of love should come with a caution sign because nothing has ever felt so good, so intense. She is my addiction. My home. My everything.

Something wakes me up.Judging by the heavy set of my eyes and the pitch black of my window, it’s only an hour or two after Lincoln got here and we both fell asleep.

Light filters in from my bedroom door as Grace shuffles in, rubbing sleepy eyes and hugging her stuffy to her chest.

Shit.

I run my hand around under the covers where I threw my T-shirt last night. Miraculously, I find it quickly and toss it on as Grace walks around to my side of the bed. Lincoln is still naked, too, and still fast asleep.

“Hey, Grace. What’s wrong?” I ask as I kick Lincoln under the covers. He jolts awake and sees Grace standing next to me. The warm smile on his face lasts about two seconds before he realizes he doesn’t have any clothes on and then his head drops over the side as he searches for where he threw his own last night.

“I’m scared,” Grace whispers and crawls up on the bed next to me as Lincoln grabs up his boxers. The covers move as he pulls them on under the blankets.

I try to pull her onto the bed beside me, but she rolls over until she’s cuddled between me and Lincoln both. I meet his gaze over Grace’s head, and his mouth is kicked up in a grin as he settles down onto the pillows to lay with my daughter.

The sight makes my throat tight, but I follow Lincoln’s lead, throw my arm around Grace, and close my eyes again.

Birds chirping outside my window is the next thing that wakes me up. That and a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen.

I let out a big stretch and turn to see I’m alone in bed. Frowning, I roll off, grab a pair of shorts from my dresser, and go hunting for my daughter.

I don’t have to look far. She’s lounging on the couch with her pajamas still on, crazy bedhead, and her leg kicked up in the air as she watches cartoons. She’s got a sippy cup in her hand that looks like chocolate milk, judging by the color.

“Hey, sweetie. Did Lincoln make you chocolate milk?” I ask her as I walk over and kiss her forehead. As I pull back, I frown at my toddler. She nods her head yes to my question but seems otherwise perfectly happy. But my lips still feel the heat from her forehead. “Are you hot, Gracie?” A shake of her head.

There does seem to be a bit of a fever going on, but I’ll take her temperature later and keep an eye on her.

Lincoln is standing over my stovetop with his sweatpants and T-shirt back on, and I watch the muscles in his forearm flex as he jerks the pan up in a quick motion to flip the pancake without a spatula.

On quiet feet, I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his stomach, leaning my head on his back. “Morning.”

He turns and pulls me under his arm to give me a quick kiss. “Morning, Frasier.”

“What’s for breakfast?” I wonder, considering I don’t have a ton of food here right now. The grocery store is on my to-do list.

“I whipped together some pancake batter and found these frozen sausages in the back of your freezer.”

“Um, did you check the expiration date on those?” I eye the box warily, not even sure when the last time was I saw those.

Lincoln shakes his head and turns the box over to look for a date. A laugh bursts out of me when his eyes pop open, sure he found it.

“That bad, huh?” I giggle and take the box from him to throw away.

“How do you have food that is a year past the expiration date in your fridge?” Lincoln’s voice is mortified.

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