Page 94 of Roses in Summer

“That’s right, grind your cunt against me. You’re so fucking wet. Give it to me, Seraphina. Show me that it’s only me. Only fucking me, baby. Come on my cock.” His fingers tighten against my nipples, and the combination of his words, the pain, and the feel of his cock inside of me, hitting just the right spot, has my orgasm slamming into me.

“Fuck, I feel your pussy around me, fucking strangling me. Goddamn, ciern.”

I bear down on him, halting my movements and breathing heavily as the orgasm barrels through me. “Lincoln, I—”

Lincoln presses up, cutting me off without words, and lifts me from his cock. In a skilled move, he turns my body, placing me on my side facing away from him, and presses his chest against my back. Need, a feeling I thought would have been satiated after two orgasms, consumes me as he lifts my leg and drapes it over his hip. One arm snakes under my head, allowing his hand to wrap around my neck once more while the other cups me right over my clit.

“It’s my turn, Seraphina. And if you’re a good girl, I might just let you come again.” He speaks into my ear, biting down on my earlobe at the same time he thrusts into me, filling me up in one stroke.

36

Lincoln

I release Sera’s flesh, licking at the faint bite marks I left on her skin. “Mine,” I growl, sounding every bit the possessed man I’ve become.

My possession started before my cock was buried inside Seraphina Rose Gregori. It started before I had the taste of her lips, her cum, and her sighs in my mouth. It began in that shitty, overly decorated dorm room when I had to throw myself on a goddamn cowhide rug to stop myself from consuming every part of her.

I squeeze Sera’s throat, restricting her air just a little to heighten the rest of her senses. “I’m going to fill this pussy up, Seraphina, make sure it’s dripping with my cum so that any motherfucker who thinks they have a chance at you, who even looks at you, smells me on your skin.” My fingers flex over her pulse, reveling in how fast her heart is beating as I fuck her.

I could use flowery words, claim I’m making love to her, or some other nonsense, but that’s not even remotely close to what we’re doing. No, it’s raw, messy, and so fucking dirty that it’s obscene.

“So fucking good,” I repeat, moving my hand from her throat to the side of her face so that I can twist her head toward me. “Eyes on me,mój maly ciern,” I order, waiting until her pretty brown eyes are staring at me before I continue, “I fucking love you. If you believe nothing else, know that.Feelthat. Only fucking you, ciern.” I lean down, pressing my lips against hers to lock the words in. Her mouth opens on a cry, and I feel the walls of her pussy clench around me, drawing me in deeper as my thrusts quicken.

I swallow her breathy moans and still as my orgasm drums into me, rendering me momentarily immobile as I hold her body against mine. Seraphina stills, too, arching her ass into me, sealing us even tighter as her cunt milks the cum out of me.

“Fuck,” I mutter against her mouth, letting my lips graze against hers as I curse. Moving my hand down, I circle my fingers around my softening cock and pull out slowly, keeping my hand against her pussy as I do. When the head of my dick slides out, I press my hand against her, keeping my cum inside her.

“Lincoln, I need to clean off.” Seraphina wiggles against me, her voice breathless and high-pitched.

“Just give me a moment, ciern. I know I need to help you wash off, but I love that my cum’s inside you.”

“Caveman,” she teases, a breathy laugh slipping from her lips.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes but move my fingers, letting our combined cum flood her thighs. My tone is light, a tease, while my lips press against the pulse at her neck. “Let’s get you cleaned up, you little thorn in my ass.”

—

I tried to get Seraphina to come to brunch with me and my parents, but she emphatically refused, telling me that to show up without a formal invitation from my parents would be rude and inexcusable. I rolled my eyes at her reasoning but, sitting here with both my parents at the popular French restaurant, I’m relieved Seraphina didn’t come.

Not because I don’t want her here, but because my parents have spent the last twenty minutes talking about Gemma.

“And you don’t think that you move on too quick,kochanie? It’s been less than a month since Gemma and you broke up,” my mom comments between bites of her crêpes, leveling me with a look that says her question was rhetorical and she already knows the correct answer.

Instead of silently agreeing, I argue back, “Gemma and I were done a long time ago. I get that to you two, it comes as a shock, but our relationship was over six months ago in everything but formality.” I may have dragged my feet with the actual breakup, and it looks shitty that Seraphina showed up at the same time that I mentally had enough of the bullshit that was Gemma and me. But it doesn’t change the fact that our relationship was a physical, financial, and mental drain.

“You know I love my job, even if my hours took some adjustment, but Gemma couldn’t reconcile that. Every day was a fight over my profession, how being a chef wasn’t glamorous enough for her, and I couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t fair to her since she was so unhappy with who I was and what I wanted, and it wasn’t fair to me that I had to defend my passions. It ran its course,Mamo.”

“And what about Seraphina?”

I sigh, about to open my mouth to her unspecified question, when my dad interjects, “You know he’s been in love with that girl since he met her.”

“That’s true,” my mom concedes. I’d open my mouth to deny the accusations if it wasn’t true. But I told Seraphina the same thing in her bed this morning, so there’s no point in pretending it’s false. “But still, it seems very fast, Lincoln.”

Stabbing my omelet, I buy myself a few seconds as I pop the egg into my mouth and chew. Swallowing, I reach for my coffee and blow on the steam. “Listen, I respect you and Dad, your opinions, but on this, you’re wrong.” I take a sip of the hot liquid and set my cup back on the saucer. “There’s no more discussion that needs to be had on this. Gemma moved out, it’s over.”

“Fine. If you’re with Seraphina, does Debbie know? I spoke to her last week, and she mentioned nothing about this.” I cringe at the reminder that my mom is close with Mrs. Gregori, having been introduced when my dad needed legal advice for one of his clients.

“I have no idea what Seraphina has or hasn’t told her parents.”

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