Page 30 of Rushed

The wait is excruciating. I want to be released—not my hands or my feet, as I like being at his mercy—to find my orgasm.

Lincoln rises up beside me, standing far enough away that he’s close to touch, but just out of reach. Breathing close to my ear, he drags his lips against my neck, kisses along my collarbone, then back up to whisper in my ear. “Come apart for me.” I’m a greedy girl when it comes to sex and he knows it. Asking me to fall apart is like asking the sun to shine.

The heat of his slap, the mark that I know it will leave, and the feel of his caress after the sting is amazing. I scream and bow my back from the cross as he strikes a second time with a wooden paddle.

“Oh my God, Lincoln. More, please!” I scream for more and more. I ask for it, over and over.

I ask for him to strike my ass, to make it burn.

“No more holdin’ back, Keenan. I want ya comin’ for me.” He delves his fingers in my body and I rock back for contact.

“I want more. Give me more. Please, fuck me. I want your cock. I want it all.” I must sound like a hussy, calling out for anything he’ll offer.

“Feck, I can’t turn ya down.” Lincoln unzips his pants. Sinking himself in to the hilt I cry out, releasing upon him in seconds. It’s such an emotional act to be strung up and fucked. I find myself crying uncontrollably.

I never thought I’d be that girl—but I am. I’m the one that loves this. Hell, I love the one controlling it.

Bringing myself back to the present and away from last night’s activities, I watch as the waitress brings the meals. Looking back over to Lincoln, I realize that should I get my memory back, I want this man in my future, no matter what. Whoever I was before, I will have to adjust her to fit into his life, his family, and all that it entails. There is nothing else.

I can’t go back to whoever she was if he’s not there.

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