Page 93 of Strictly the Worst

“Yep. And marble floors.” His hand slides between my legs. “Christ, you really are wet.”

“That’s my tears from choking on you.”

He lifts his head to kiss me again, his finger slowly touching me. He finds the part of me that needs him most, circling against it.

“Is this how you touch yourself?” he asks me, brushing his lips against my neck.

“No, I usually use a twelve inch dildo.”

He laughs against my throat. “Move my hand. Show me what you like.”

It’s funny how intimate his request is. It feels more revealing than having him inside of me. And yet I take his hand, covering his finger with mine, pressing him against me. The roughness of his pad makes my breath catch.

He slides down, capturing my nipple between his lips. His tongue flutters over me, the way I fluttered over him.

“I’ve missed these, too,” he mutters, moving his mouth to my other breast.

“They missed you.”

“Push my finger inside you,” he tells me.

So I do. He adds a second, flicking his thumb against my clit. My breath catches as he moves in the slowest of rhythms, his mouth dragging against my nipple.

Then he kisses his way down my abdomen, before pulling his hand away from mine and burying himself between my thighs, dipping his head to run his tongue languidly along my seam.

“Jesus, you taste good.”

“Seriously?” I ask. “Or is that just what men…oh… say?”

His tongue flutters against my clit as he looks up at me. Oh, now I know why he likes me looking at him when he’s in my mouth so much. The connection between us hits me in the chest.

“Seriously,” he tells me.

Before I can respond he’s sliding his fingers back inside of me, then he sucks at my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. My eyes roll as he curls his fingers, like he’s beckoning me to come.

And I can feel it. The coiling. The pleasure he’s creating.

His tongue is getting faster now. He pushes in a third finger and my eyes widen. It feels so full. Maybe too full. But then he twists them and it’s everything.

“Linc,” I gasp. “I’m going to come.”

“Good. Give it to me.” He twists them again, and I convulse, my back arching up as pleasure explodes inside me. My thighs tighten around his face, as he continues to lick me into oblivion. And his fingers, those teasing, beautiful fingers, he twists them inside as he slowly brings me down from my high.

When he lifts his face up I can see his jaw is glistening. He kisses my lips, a smile curling them as he does.

“That was…” I let out a sigh. “Definitely not boring.”

“Good. Because I intend on not boring you a lot more.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

TESSA

Somehow we manage to drag ourselves out of bed and finish the sanding. Every few minutes Linc stops what he’s doing to take his mask off and kiss me, and I find myself melting into his arms.

He takes over the big sander when my arms start to ache, and tells me to sit down and watch him be manly. By seven, the floor is finished. I can’t clean it up because we have no water, but I’m still happy with what we’ve achieved.

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