Page 102 of Pieces of Us

Deciding to take his advice to look after myself, I decide a nice, long, steaming bath should pull me out of my funk.

When the bath is almost full, I pour some lavender and jasmine to heighten my relaxation, and steep myself in the scalding water. It is exactly what my muscles and mind need. Life doesn’t often allow for such simple luxuries, so today is a huge blessing.

As I soak, my mind drifts off to Lincoln and how he last touched me. My loofah is handy, and it may be exactly what I need to tide me over and loosen the last of my aching muscles.

I run the coarse loofah over my hardened nipples. The scratch makes them raw and angry as it shoots fireworks down my abdomen. I clench my pussy at the prickling feeling. I suds the loofah again with tea tree oil body wash, so I can feel the cool mingle with the warmth of the water. Having the hot and cold work in tandem will skyrocket me into an orgasm that will put me in a deep slumber.

I moan as I think about our debaucherous few days together. He had an online meeting that he couldn’t get out of with a wealthy client, despite it being the weekend. If he sealed the deal, he’d make a mint out of designing his home, plus, it might earn him a few nominations in the architecture awards.

He promised it would only be half an hour, but going from zero to one hundred with him made me feel anxious, so I had the genius idea to try out one of his fantasies. I crept into his study, crawling on my knees, still naked from before he got dressed. I saw he had a business shirt on but hadn’t bothered with covering his boxers. He was so ingrained in the conversation that he didn’t see me sneak under his desk. It was only at the last second when my head popped up that his eyes bulged. Putting a finger over my mouth to shush him, I began my descent. I slipped his cock out from behind the buttons and placed my mouth over him. He probably thought I was starting a blow job, but the truth was, I was curious about this cock-warming thing. At first, I needed to adjust my angle so it was comfortable, but once I found the spot, a calmness washed over me as my warm mouth wrapped around him. I suckled, but didn’t suction. It was entrancingly soothing, made even more so by his hand, petting my head. As he continued with his conversation, I listened, fascinated at how intelligent he was when it came to speaking about his craft.

Picturing me on my knees made me cup one of my heavy breasts, while the loofah worked my other nipple.

It still isn’t enough.

I arch my body back further into the tub.

My mind fast forwards to after he ended his call, where he proceeded to face fuck me, positioning me so my head was dangling off his desk. I picture him tea-bagging me, my mouth drenching his balls, before he proceeds to thrust deep in my throat. In and out. In and out. Until I was a gagging ball of spit and tears. I remember how he cut off my airway, feeling his cock forced down my throat, and the heady feeling of slowly losing consciousness until he pulled me back from the brink and assaulted my windpipe all over again. Saliva pooled in the corner of my mouth, bubbling over as I soaked his already drenched cock.

Using this vivid memory, I move the loofah down my tummy until I reach the apex of my thighs. I press down hard on my pussy and clit, making both weep. Moving the loofah back and forth roughly, I feel the sensation building in my belly. The itch from the loofah and coolness from the soap is a heady combination that starts igniting my climax. I change the rhythm of the loofah into hard, circular motions. The rub of it doesn’t compare to the itch of Lincoln’s stubble, but it comes close. With my free hand, I insert my thumb into my pussy and middle finger into my ass, bucking up to get the maximum penetration. Both holes are searing in ecstasy, turning my breathing ragged and harsh. When my hands don’t do the job, I slam my hand down on the button that ignites the jets and position my hole close to the forceful stream of water.

Yes. Right there. That’s the spot.

I start whimpering, cautious of my nearby neighbours, but my effort to stay silent is futile as a scream tears through my body. My pussy is throbbing and limbs are twitching at the water pressure that is concentrated on my clit and slit.

Closing my eyes, my breaths are coming out faster than they have in over a month. Since the last time I was with Lincoln, fucking him in the backseat of his car. I rub furiously over the sensitive bud, my body jerking like a headless chicken as I come.

It’s only when the water turns warm that I realise it has taken me a while to come down from my dizzying orgasm. My limbs feel brand new after that release, and my mind is completely blank for the first time in over a month.

Deciding that I want to capitalise on extra sleep, I wash myself quickly in the shower and dry off. I don’t bother with any clothing, other than one of Lincoln’s t-shirts that I stole from his drawer.

Slinking into my king-sized bed, shattered and sated, I fall into a deep and peaceful slumber, under fresh and toasty sheets.

I’m awoken some time later by a steady stream of thuds.

Is that my head? Did I knock myself out somehow? The pounding is relentless and is getting louder by the second.

It’s then that I realise that someone is at my door.

Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I see it’s just after one P.M., which means I slept for another five hours.

Groggily, I slip on some tights and scurry to the door as fast as I can.

On the way, I notice there isn’t one missed call or text from Lincoln, which sullies my mood. I’m disappointed that he hasn’t even thought of me while he’s waking up, nor thought to respond to any of my messages.

As I draw closer to the door, I remind myself to be polite, as it could be anyone. All I really want to do is tell them to shut the fuck up and go away, but under no circumstance can I ever let that happen.

I should check my cameras, but they’re too far away, so I decide to risk my life and open the door to whomever is behind it.

With deft fingers, I unlatch the couple of locks and pull the handle down to swing it open.

‘L-Lincoln?’ I stammer, confused if he is real or a mirage. I’m unbelieving that it’s really him.

There’s no way I have conjured him up in my mind. There is one large suitcase and a gym bag resting on my porch and he looks all rumpled, as if he’s just gotten off a flight. There’s extra stubble on his chin, and his eyes are slightly sunken, as if he hasn’t had much sleep. His hair is mussed but in a sexy way, and he looks like he’s fading fast, but when he peruses my outfit, it’s like I’m his adrenaline shot. He perks right up, a mischievous twinkle in his eye

He flashes me one of his trademark grins and spreads his arms wide to catch me when I inevitably leap into him. ‘Hi, Hart.’

Chapter 36

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