Page 78 of Safety Net
"I think it's fine foreplay," I said, leaving out the fact that I had little to no experience on that front.
"Yeah?" He moved closer, wrapping his arms around me from behind. Relaxing into him was as easy as sinking into the snow to make angels.
"Good even." I bit my bottom lip when his lips pressed against the side of my neck. Lincoln traced warm kisses acrossmy shoulder. He tugged my spaghetti strap down a bit so he could kiss every inch without the slightest bit of obstruction.
"How so?" He moved up my neck again, kissing behind my ear. My lips parted as I let out a heavy exhale. His gentle touch sent sparks down my spine, warming my entire body. Every inch of me begged for its turn next. I needed his lips on my fingers, thighs, and belly.
"Shows you have a knack for small details," I whispered and closed my eyes as his mouth kissed the nape of my neck before moving to provide much-needed attention to my opposite shoulder. My heart's a deafening drum, drowning out my anxieties and replacing them with desires.
"I suppose I do." While Lincoln's mouth painted invisible tattoos on my skin, his hands slipped underneath my top, massaging circles on my waist. Arching into him felt as natural as picking up my instrument and hitting my favorite note. He pressed back, meeting my demand with an offering.
"Want to know what kind of details I've been dying to get from you?" he asked.
I couldn't speak. My throat held onto a moan I'm too shy to let out. I opened my eyes; the world was now a perfect, soft haze of blue and white from the moonlight outside. A soft melody flowed into my brain, delicately opening with a flute and joined by the steadiness of the piano. Whenever this happened, I usually needed to get to a notebook quickly and jot down the idea. But I turned around to look up at Lincoln instead, knowing this won't be the last time he'll elicit this kind of music from me.
"What kind?" I asked.
He walked me backwards until we reached the bed. I sat, and he surprised me by kneeling. His hands disappeared under my skirt, fingers circling my thighs.
"The kind that helps me make you unfold for me," he said. "Let go for me."
"I let go plenty." I circled my arms around his neck, brushing my nose against his. "I'm in your room because of my own suggestion."
He chuckled. "Sure, but this is just a start."
His thumbs kept circling but remained in place. There was an ache between my legs that grew ever wanting with every second he didn't make a move.
"I've found my first clue," he said, and before I could ask what he learned, he kissed my neck and the space right under my ear. The arch was instant and embarrassing. I laughed.
"An amateur sleuth could have deduced that one," I teased.
"Hey, give me a second," he whispered into my ear, voice low and deep. My smile vanished, the aching evolving into something dire.
"This kind of stuff requires time." He pulled back enough for me to see his face. His fingers hooked the strap of my top, raising a brow to ask permission. I nodded, and he slipped both down my shoulders. Lincoln urged the shirt down until it pooled at my waist. My cheeks burned as the cold air hit my breasts.
"Everything…okay?" I asked when he paused for a second, interrupting the momentum.
He nodded. "Sorry, it's just… you're the woman of my dream and I'm trying hard to remain present and not think of all the ways I could screw this up."
My muscles relaxed when I remembered Lincoln had his own set of fears. Fears that occasionally intersected with mine. "I'm trying too. We're doing it together."
He smiled, placed his hand on the back of my head, and pulled me in for a kiss. It's a comforting sidebar that had nothing to do with satisfying sexual desire and everything to do with making sure we felt safe.
"You okay?" He pulled back, making sure he saw my face as I offered him confirmation.
"I'm perfect." I kissed him again.
"Want to be my right hand?"
I tilted my head to the side. "What's that?"
"Someone who helps gather clues?"
"Are you trying to shortcut your way into solving a mystery?" I laughed when he shrugged.
"I just think you'll be good at it," he said. "Something tells me you're a natural."
"Your instincts are wrong." I sobered a little.
