Page 27 of 40 and (No Longer) Fighting It
And fuck, no matter how much of a bastard it made him, praying the wait wasn’t in vain.
A low moan escaped from her mouth to his. He swallowed it, his tongue delving deeper, retreating, savoring the textures of her mouth even as he began the dance that revealed exactly what he wanted. The movements of Claire’s body told him she wanted it too, but he wouldn’t go by that. Only a blatant move on her part—
Claire’s hands released his arms, dropping to his waist. Gripping his shirt, she tugged, roughly pulling until the hem was raised above his waistband and she could gain access to his naked skin. She delved underneath, her fingers skating along his waist, his ribs, circling around to trace the line of hair that bisected his stomach. When she skimmed his zipper, he forced his mouth away from hers. “Claire…”
The feel of Claire’s hands on his skin ripped his control to shreds. A groan tore from his mouth, and then he had one hand at her nape, fingers digging into the tangled curls he loved so much, and one at her breast. “Claire—”
She arched into his touch. “Lincoln, God…”
He rubbed his thumb over her nipple like he’d been wanting to all night, wishing he was touching skin, wishing he was using his mouth and not his fingers. He eyed her dress, the light drape of the two sides crossing over each other at the valley between her breasts. Easy access. His hand clenched in her hair at the thought.
“How can I want you this much?” Claire muttered, distracting him from thoughts of getting her out of her dress as her hands made another restless round across his body. She might sound frustrated, but the absorption in her eyes, the sheer pleasure as she stroked up to his chest, her palms abrading his nipples, said something else altogether.
The choked sound that escaped him seemed to amuse her. “At least I’m not the only one.”
“You’re sure as hell not.” He nudged his hips forward. “I would think that was obvious.”
Claire flattened her palms on his pecs. “I have to say that for you—as much as you hid behind your Iron Chef personality up in New York, you’ve been completely open about how much you want me now.”
He tipped her head up, using his hold to make sure she kept her gaze on his. “I want you, Claire. Absolutely.” He traced her jaw with his thumb. “I did then, and I do now. The difference is, now I can accept it. The question is, can you?”
She sighed. Her tongue peeked out, sliding along her bottom lip. His fingers clenched in her hair again, an act he couldn’t seem to control, and the slight tug made her gaze heat. “I’m beginning to.”
He kissed her again, part reward for her bravery, part desperation. Then broke off. “Wait, did you call me Iron Chef?”
She giggled at his growled question. “I did.” She grabbed his face and pulled him back to her lips. “We’ll talk about that later though.”
He growled again, this time for a completely different reason. “Take me upstairs, Claire.”
The fact that she didn’t hesitate told him everything he needed to know. Taking his hand, she turned to ascend the stairs. Linc let her lead him, watching her ass bunch and jiggle in front of him. He wanted his teeth on that ass, his hands. He wanted Claire naked and available and as susceptible to him as he felt to her—and it looked like she was going to grant him his wish.
After unlocking the door, Claire led him inside. She didn’t bother turning on lights, just moved through the darkened living area and into a short hall that opened into her bedroom. Light spilling in from the window showed him the bed wasn’t made, the obvious indent of her head on one pillow above a small hollow where she’d thrown the covers back to rise for the day. Walking straight to her bed, she threw the covers to the end, lifted her purse strap over her head, and set the purse on her bedside table.
Her hand was shaking.
“You’re not getting nervous of me now, are you?”
She gave a little laugh. “Not nervous of you, really.” Turning around, she pushed her hair back from her eyes. “Nervous of how much I want you, maybe?” But nervous or not, she crossed the room straight back to him.
“There’s no need to be nervous when the feeling is mutual.” It was taking everything he had just to hold himself in place, to keep the chains on so he wouldn’t rush this.
Claire didn’t stop till she was right up against him. “Okay then.” The soft curve of her lips made him want to take a bite out of them. “How about we get going then.”
The chain broke.
Linc plowed into her, forcing her soft body back until her spine met the wall. Claire released a huff of breath, but her hands were still fisted in his shirt, pulling him forward, doing her own forcing to keep their bodies together, showing him that she was unafraid of his intensity. Her head tilted back, and this time it was she who sought out his kiss, her mouth impatient and eager and as desperate as he was even as he pressed her head back into the wall with the power of his response.
And still he needed more. His hands went to the material covering her breasts. So soft and silky and warm—and so easy to push aside. He dragged it down and apart until both lace-covered mounds were pushed forward, cupped lovingly by the cloth that held them up for his pleasure. Her bra cups did the same, the lace dragging across her nipples, her skin until two plump, heart-stopping breasts popped into his hands. Dark brown nipples as thick as a finger poked into his palms, and he took them in a solid grip, squeezing and pulling and teasing as Claire began to circle her pelvis against his erection.
A hard squeeze had her moaning into his mouth. When she eagerly sucked on his tongue, he couldn’t stop a growl from escaping. Couldn’t stop the drive to go further.
Abandoning one breast, he traced a hand down her body to the hem of her dress. Then he retraced his path, this time up her inner thigh, taking the material with him. When he felt the lace of her panties covering her mound, he tugged the thin strip to one side, needing access to her core. She was already wet, cream beginning to slip down her thighs and greeting his fingers where it coated her crisp curls. He parted her lower lips, found her hard clit, and slid two fingers along either side, stroking down down down until he found her entrance. Both fingers pushed inside.
Claire wailed, one thigh coming up to hook her knee on his hip, opening her body to his invasion. And still she was tight. His legs were already shaking just being inside her like this. Claire’s were too.
“Lincoln, please, now!”
“Not yet, baby,” he crooned against her kiss-swollen lips. “Let me get you ready.”
