Page 23 of A Week To Wed
I moan softly until he covers that small nub with his mouth and sucks. I come apart suddenly and quickly, shoving my pelvis hard against his face, my thighs clamping down around his ears. I shriek out my orgasm in a crass fashion, wondering what on earth got into me.
“Holy fucking shit!” I squeal.
Well. That would be his tongue that got into me, I think wryly.
This cowboy’s low laugh against my lower lips is too much sensation for me to take. Even as I shudder through my orgasm, I claw at his scalp, writhing to get my legs off his shoulders.
So quick that I can’t track how he does it—or maybe because I’m too blissed out to notice—Lincoln is over me on the mattress. My legs hook around his hips automatically, as if I’ve done this with him a hundred times. But that’s how natural it feels to have him there. It feels so correct and safe, and necessary.
Lincoln lowers his mouth against mine, and I taste my scent on his tongue. He kisses me slowly and sensually, telling me this is not incidental. He tasted me and wants me to know what I taste like.
The licking, drugging kiss makes me forget I just climaxed as a new flame of need surges in my belly.
This man’s hips roll against my pelvis, his bare length dragging through my folds. My hands go to his forearms, which are tight and stiff from holding himself up so as not to crush me. His biceps ripple as I drag my hand upward. Everywhere I touch him is stiff and tight and bunched as if every muscle is working so hard to hold something back.
I arch my back, pressing my lower half against that length that’s been coated in my essence.
He groans.
“Baby. You feel too good already. Stop rubbing on me…I’m gonna…I’m…shit….”
He growls. The sound is wild, as is the tightness in his jaw and the cords that accent his throat. I cease my writhing under him as he asked me to. Instead, I kiss and stroke the tight lines on his neck.
He feels so wound up, so anxious. I know I’m having fun, but is he?
“Maisy,” he grits out. “We have to talk.”
ChapterFourteen
Lincoln
Maisy exhales a disappointed, “Oh. Ok.”
We should have had this conversation before we both got naked.
“I’m a clumsy ox. In our emails, we discussed babies and birth control but didn’t set a timeline.”
I’m ruining the moment, but it’s essential to her happiness that we discuss this.
I hold my breath and weave my fingers through the wild strands of her hair. I hear the smile return to her voice and feel her body rise up, her soft lips kiss along my jawline, her teeth nip me there, and then her tongue lick over the spot.
Softly, sexily, she purrs, “You’re not a clumsy ox. You’re my cowboy of few words, and I’m crazy in love with you.”
My mouth goes dry. My entire body feels like it’s glowing at her words.
“Baby,” I rasp.
Her hands stroke the scruff on my chin and neck, making me feel like a spoiled pet. She continues. “And you could never ruin the moment. And no, I’m not on birth control. And no, I don’t want you to use a condom. You’re 40 years old, and if I didn’t see myself giving you a baby right away, then I wouldn’t have signed up to be your wife.”
I still don’t understand why this woman who looks, carries herself and throws money around like royalty would want to give a grizzled cowboy a baby. I know she’s holding back information. She has to be. But I trust her. Maybe I’m a fool, but I believe her.
I set my cock inside her, just an inch. Lowering myself down, settling my weight on her just a bit, I kiss her the way I like to. Hard, with tongue, tasting every inch of her lips. Owning her sweet mouth.
Her thighs squeeze me tightly and pull me close, and I let my body weight guide me the rest of the way into her cunt.
My woman hisses. Her muscles flex around my cock, from the tip to the root.
Instantly I feel the throb, the tightening in my belly, and the letting go.
