Page 125 of Roses in Summer

My cock springs out, hard and heavy and eager to feel every inch of Seraphina as I make contact with her skin. I want to grab her, sink inside her, and move in hard, deliberate thrusts until I’m coming inside and filling her with every part of me I can afford to give her.

I don’t give in to those instincts, instead keeping my pace deliberately slow, intoxicatingly gentle. Moving my hand back to her thigh, I hitch her leg higher, notching myself against her opening and sinking in, inch by inch, keeping my eyes on her face as I slip inside.

Her closed eyes flutter open, meeting my stare with an intensity that betrays every emotion wrapped in her petite package. Her hand comes to my cheek, resting against my skin like a brand. I turn my head, kissing her palm before I look back at her face. I rock into her, never pulling out more than an inch as I grind against her body, tilting my hips upward so that on each unhurried drag, my cock rubs against her G-spot.

For once, Seraphina doesn’t attempt to take over or rush me, and I revel in the dilation of her pupils and the gasps falling from her mouth with each thrust. I break eye contact, looking down at her heaving chest and her erect nipples. I’m tempted to suck on her, to worship each of her tits with my tongue and mouth, but I refuse to break my pace, to hurry my motions.

I pull her in closer, letting her chest rub against mine.

“Lincoln.” Seraphina moans, mouth agape as she sucks in air.

“I know, ciern,” I murmur, fingers curling into her skin as I feel her walls clench around me right before she soaks my cock, drenching me in her cum as she explodes around me. I move with her through it, keeping my steady pace until I feel my balls draw up and my own orgasm shoot through me, filling her pussy so completely I can feel our combined release dripping onto my groin.

I know I should release her, move her off me, and clean us both up. And I will, in a minute.

Dropping my forehead to the top of her head, I suck in a recovering breath. “I love you, Seraphina. Tonight scared the shit out of me.”

I feel a shudder work its way over her body. “I know,” she whispers, dropping her head into my chest as she speaks. “I never want to relive tonight.”

“Me neither, ciern.”

We’re silent for a moment, letting our thoughts settle. Finally, I shift, slipping from Seraphina’s body and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I stand gingerly, unfolding myself until I’m at full height. Walking toward the en suite bathroom, I stop at her soft voice.

“Lincoln?”

I turn my head slightly, giving her my profile. “Yeah, ciern?”

“Thank you for being there tonight, for finding me.”

“Don’t you know by now, ciern? I’m always going to find you.”

“I know, Lincoln.”

I step over the threshold of my bathroom, grabbing a clean washcloth from my vanity before running it under warm water and returning to Seraphina. Lifting the blankets from her body, I wipe our cum from between her legs and return the washcloth to the sink, running it under cold water and squeezing it out to dry. Tomorrow, I’ll throw it in a bag of laundry, but for tonight, I leave it in the sink.

Shutting off the light, I make my way back into the bedroom and slide beneath the comforter, drawing Seraphina’s back to my chest and inhaling a mouthful of hair. I close my eyes, feeling a semblance of peace with her in my arms.

“Lincoln.” Sera shifts, rubbing her ass against me. If I didn’t come inside her ten minutes ago, my cock would be hard at the movement. “I love you.”

“I know, ciern.”

47

Seraphina

The smell of bacon lures me awake, a salty punch that has my eyes blinking open and my arms stretching upward. Though I know I’m alone, I check both sides of the bed just to be sure that Lincoln didn’t slip back into bed after somehow making his apartment smell like a diner.

I receive my confirmation that I’m alone when the sound of metal on metal clangs from just beyond the closed bedroom door. Straightening my legs, I take a moment to look around Lincoln’s space, taking in the heavy brushstroke prints hanging on the wall opposite the bed and the sleek dark-brown dresser below. Turning my head, I see a large floor mirror in the corner of the room, right beside a window that lets in the early morning light. There’s a floor plant situated in the opposite corner, nightstands, and a bed. Aside from that, there’s not much else in the masculine yet comfortable room.

Shifting my eyes back to the door, I rise from the bed and grab the T-shirt that was thrown to the floor last night. I blush at the memory, how intense it was, despite the infinitesimal movements. I don’t doubt that sex was made more intense by the fire, the panic that seemed embedded in both of us.

Shrugging the fabric over my frame, I inch toward the door and twist the handle, pulling it open and giving me a view into the kitchen. On light feet, I walk in, surprised by the number of dishes laid out on the black island.

“Hungry, ciern?”

I pause mid-step and stare at Lincoln’s back. “How did you know I was here?”

“The door squeaked when you opened it.”

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