Page 202 of Playing the Pucking Game
52
LINCOLN
My heart thumps against my ribs as I picture Parker lying on that very bed, wearing my T-shirt with that purple vibrator pressed against her clit.
Fuck.
When she abruptly ended our kiss, I thought it was over.
I expected her to send me back to my room with my tail between my legs and regret bubbling over. I never thought this was what I was going to experience next.
I keep my eyes on her as my mind spins out of control and my cock threatens to break through the fabric containing it.
Shyly, she bites down on her bottom lip before she shakes her head.
Fuck. Me. Gently.
“Get on the bed.” My voice is rough, and my demand is intense in a way I hope it can’t be ignored.
“L-Linc, we can’t?—”
“I said, Get. On. The. Bed, Parker.”
She hesitates, but this time she doesn’t argue and instead scrambles to the middle of the mattress.
“We can’t do this,” she whispers. There isn’t much conviction in her tone. She’s trying to do the right thing. Her head isscreaming at her to keep her walls up, to keep that final bit of distance between us. But her body…
How the fuck I didn’t see it when she first opened the door, I don’t know.
Her hair is a mess, her cheeks are blazing, and her golden eyes are almost brown, they’re so dark.
I’m hit with a bolt of lust so powerful, I don’t know how I remain standing here.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman as much in my life.
“I’m not going to touch you,” I tell her.
It’s going to fucking kill me, but I’m not.
“Then what?—”
“But I’m going to get you off. I need to, Parker.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything as she squirms.
“Are you wet for me, babe?” I ask, imagining her already soaking the sheets beneath her.
She bites down teasingly on that bottom lip again.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to make it mine.
It takes her a second, but eventually she gives me an almost imperceptible nod.
Christ. This woman is going to be the death of me.
“Lie back on the pillows,” I order.
With my eyes locked on her, I stand unmoving at the end of the bed.
