Pieces of Us

Chapter 35 Somewhere I Belong

Amity

Now this is a way to relax before a long-haul flight.

Linc grunts as he thrusts his cock deep inside me at a stabbing pace. With my legs spread, I welcome his driving speed. Sweat drips down my cleavage as my breasts bounce wildly, and I’m so slick, I don’t know how he isn’t sliding out of me. This. Right here. Sex with Linc feels life-transforming. Both our breaths come out short and sharp, and the noises I’m making are certainly not human. My sounds are wilder when he bites the pulse at my throat, licking up the sting from his teeth.

I reach behind me for purchase, trying to grab onto anything that will anchor me to him. I know he won’t let me fall, but I feel unsteady, the way he’s controlling how he is relentlessly fucking me.

I’m colliding towards my climax, ready to crash any second.

‘More…more.’ I can’t convey what I mean as words evade me. I just hope he can interpret my wordlessness.

‘You want it rougher, baby, huh?’ he growls in my ear, lifting me up and down on him.

‘Y-yes,’ I screech, careening. I’m squinting but I can see the waves crashing against the shoreline, leaving behind a trail of frothy white foam. It’s exactly how I’m feeling. Once I come, I know I’m going to be left in pieces.

Listening to my pleas, he removes his length from my slit and ploughs into my ass without warning. I jerk forward, trying to get away, but he pulls me back into his chest with the force of his arms. A stretching, burning…sensational feeling overwhelms me as I scream, the echo bouncing off the windows, sounding so much louder, almost deafening both of us. In essence, if anyone happens to be in the vicinity of the car, they could definitely mistake my strangled cries as someone being murdered.

The pain alleviates into a pleasurable pain as he stretches my tight hole.

It’s exactly the type of satisfaction I crave.

‘Yes..Yes…Oh, God…Yes.’ He bounces me up and down, spilling filthy words into my ear. With one hand, he slaps my clit, once again surprising me with intense gratification. ‘Again,’ I force out.

‘Yeah? You like that? You like when I slap your slutty little pussy?’ All I can do is moan like a wanton whore. ‘Your cunt gaping from the loss of my cock? Put your fingers inside yourself while I keep smacking your pussy.’

Obliging, I start with two, before I insert a third finger. I’m so full and content, I know that despite whatever onslaught is to come, I’ll be sated for days. My eyes roll back in my head and my body goes limp as I open my mouth in a silent scream.

Lincoln stills for a split second before a bellow explodes as I physically fall apart, in his arms like an earthquake.

‘Holy fucking shit, Hart.’ I know exactly what he’s referring to as I feel a rush of wetness between us. I feel his balls pulse at the thought of the water spurting from me, soaking the interior of his luxury car. Instinctively, he presses the heel of his palm against my clit and rubs in circular motion.

‘Oh my God. Linc. Linc. Right there, I cry.

‘Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Look at what my cock does to you,’ he groans as he kisses my neck.

At the height of my climax, I feel hot spurts of cum fill me. ‘I’m coming, Hart. Fuck, baby, I’m coming.’ It’s like balm for the ache that he’s created. Pump after pump, he eventually slows and my verbal weeps turn into soft mewls. There are black and white spots behind my eyes, as if I’m looking into a strobe light. He’s fucked the vision right from my body, and I don’t even mind when I’ll be able to see again. Sinking back onto him as we both try and catch our breath is the only thing I can do.

I’m not heavy anymore, so I’m sure he can take my dead weight. My limbs feel like concrete, and I couldn’t move in the next minute or so if I tried.

His guttural groans quieten as he tries to find his breath. It’s stiflingly hot in the car, enough for him to reach over and crack the door open while still inside me. A gust of fresh wind seeps in, airing out the smell of sex, sweat and saliva.

He slips his half-hard cock out of me and I immediately clench so that he doesn’t dribble out of me. His hands still on my hips, as his lips trace kisses up and down my spine. A permanent shiver from his touch is imprinted on my skin.

‘Linc?’ I hesitate after he says nothing.

‘Sorry, baby,’ he manages to croak. ‘I was just thinking how fucking sexy you are. How I’m a dumb cunt for ever letting you go.’ I hate how he brought up our past, but in this instance, I have to agree. We could have had this for the past eight years. ‘God. I’ve never had sex like that,’ he declares, leaning his head back.

I’m still clenching and it’s starting to get uncomfortable, but his confession makes me giggle. ‘Don’t make me laugh, unless you want your cum everywhere.’ Giving me a kiss on the back of my neck, I can feel the smirk.

‘Can you lean over and get the wet wipes that are in the middle of the console?’

Reluctantly, I push forward, only to be greeted with a delightful smack to my ass. It startles me and I let go of my muscles, causing his cum to start running. Trying to tighten again, I’m stopped by his hands, which firmly tear my cheeks apart. With my forearms on the console, I have no choice but to let him explore.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Inspecting just how messy and ruined I made you. I love to see my creampie dribble out of you. Makes me so proud to see how I’ve marked you, and how I own you.’ As he describes his depraved thoughts, I feel his thumbs caress my puckered hole, pushing some back in and smoothing the rest across my cheeks.

‘You just let me know when you’re done, so we can clean up,’ I jest, enjoying his aftercare. When he’s done enjoying his view, he wipes me clean, before planting kisses all over my body.

I’ve never felt more content…or like I’m close to being home.

Despite being buck naked, I still feel shy as I re-dress, blushing furiously as he watches me slide on the miniscule lace between my legs. The bra leaves nothing to the imagination either, which I know drives him crazy by the way he bites his lip and stifles a groan.

Quickly tying my hair up in a haphazard ponytail, I take a squiz in the mirror. Apart from my swollen lips and a rising hickey on my neck—which is going to take a tonne of concealer to cover—I don’t look like I’ve just had the orgasm of all orgasms.

We resume driving to the airport, a sombre mood blanketing the car. Giving him a sad smile and seeing his grim one in return reminds both of us that the prolonging and procrastinating will be over soon.

I am leaving, and it will be months before I return.

As he parks in the drop-off bay, I blow out a breath, willing myself not to tear up. I don’t know why it’s so hard to say goodbye. Theoretically, last time I left the Gold Coast, I should have been a sobbing mess. Instead, I walked on the plane numb. Now, I feel like I could be committed. I know why I’m feeling like this. It’s because our future is uncertain, and it’s on us now not to fuck it up. To find our way back to each other.

Once my suitcases are safely on a trolley Lincoln has retrieved, he extends his arms wide open and I step into them without hesitation. Wrapping my arms around his waist as he encircles my shoulders, I feel a deep-seated sadness take root in both of us.

‘This isn’t goodbye, my beautiful Hart.’ He cups my face in his hands. I don’t need a mirror this time to know what I look like. My nose feels tingly and I know it’s Rudolph red, while my weary green eyes water. It’s comforting to see he is on the edge of losing it, too.

‘I’ll see you soon, yeah?’

I nod, knowing eventually we’ll be reunited, but not hopeful that it’s any time soon.

‘I have to go,’ I choke. Leaning in, I press a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s slow, and one we’re both trying to savour.

With a heavy heart, we finally part and I step back so I can start pushing my trolley through the glass doors.

As I enter, I turn back and wave to him, seeing him for the last time. A funny feeling comes over me. Leaving this time isn’t because I’m running away; it’s so I can figure out where somewhere I belong.

‘Let’s talk about that yacht scene.’ I continue with my question, slowly dying over the fact that I am interviewing heartthrob, Michele Morrone. Not just interviewing. Lounging and laughing with him on the very same yacht they filmed that scene. And to top off every fantasy ever, I am in one of my new BDSM bondage lingerie, which is all criss-crossy and strappy, while he is casually soaking up the sun in black boardies.

God. I. Love. My. Job.

We cover everything, from how he immersed himself around people who had lived Massimo’s life, to his workout routine, to how uncomfortable it is for family and friends to see him in steamy scenes. Wrapping up, we speak about his upcoming films and what we can expect from him in the future.

If heaven was a place, this would be it. Sunning ourselves in San Remo and getting paid to interview ridiculously attractive actors, while sipping on Aperol Spritzes.

Since being back in action, I’ve barely had time to breathe. I had less than a week to sign off on my new lingerie line and tea range, before I hurriedly packed for my European leg of interviews. This is my fourth one in four days, and believe it or not, also my fourth country in four days.

It’s good to be around my team again, but it’s also an adjustment to be around so many people at once.

The only time I sleep is on the plane, or for a few hours before I have to be up at the crack of dawn to be primped to perfection. I missed my laser appointment, so I had to be waxed in places I never wish to be waxed again. On top of that, each interview has to look different, so I am constantly in front of a mirror, getting my hair straightened, curled and pulled into different styles.

Creams, tans, highlighters, body glitter and so much more have been slathered and sprayed on my body to give me the perfect even glow. I am sure, at this point, my skin is as soft as a baby’s with the amount of lotion that has been also rubbed in.

Mum was supposed to join me on this leg of my interviews as my make-up artist, but she decided to take a break instead, going back home to check on Dad. If I think too much about that situation, the little girl inside me who has hoped and prayed her whole life for her parents could make it work will take over and I’ll have no focus or attention on my actual job.

With little time to find a US-based make-up artist who could travel with us, we settled for finding one in Europe, which meant, a new make-up artist in every country. That was dramatic and stressful, but my team managed to pull it together.

I’d been solemn when I arrived back in Los Angeles, but that was swiftly erased when I realised I had no capacity to dwell on it and break down. I did manage to squeeze in a quick session with my therapist to update her on the situation with Linc and I, but also to confess I had a minor setback when I realised I hadn’t eaten for thirty-six hours with the amount of work I had to do.

To help me get through that mishap, I had to let my team know that food breaks were to be scheduled into my day, even if it was ten minutes. I also pre-empted my splurging in Europe on pasta and pizza and provided a list of foods and meals I’d like, carefully avoiding any over-indulgence.

My interview is over and while everyone wraps up around us, I take advantage of the macchinetta percolated coffee that has just been brewed. I don’t usually drink coffee, but the jet lag is making me bone-tired. My drowsiness is enhanced by the burning sun and early mornings.

Michele is talking to his team while mine are fluttering around, packing up. This leaves me to bathe on the lounges and take in the serenity that is San Remo. It’s my first time here, but I already know it trumps half the places I’ve travelled. It’s elegant, luxurious, and it has a stunning backdrop of vibrant promenades and a charming coast.

Drawing me out of my lust for this place is the buzz from my phone.

‘Hi,’ I smile, staring back at Lincoln’s handsome face. While it’s the middle of my day, I can see it’s late in Australia.

I’d texted him sporadically during my week in Los Angeles, but we hadn’t managed to successfully tee up a time to chat over the phone. It always makes me feel warm and gooey inside when he sends me good morning texts or good night voice memos, and I adore the little tidbits about his day, or our happier memories that he sends. I am a slacker when it comes to doing the same, which I felt horrible about.

‘Hi, baby. How’s my Hart going?’ his deep voice rumbles, doing things to me.

‘I’m in heaven. I’m tired, but I’m in heaven.’ I turn the camera around to show him the breathtaking scenery, and also a glimpse of Michele, who he admitted he’d stalked online the other night.

Turning the camera back onto me, I watch him lazily smile from his couch. ‘Looks like heaven, baby.’ His eyes are hooded, which is when I notice my camera is angled towards my chest.

‘Behave, there are lots of people around.’ I roll my eyes and snort.

‘Hey, I can’t help that your job is to look as sexy as possible. It’s definitely making it harder,’ he pauses, ‘To be away from you,’ he quickly tacks on. ‘Where are you off to next?’

‘England to interview Manchester, and then back to New York for a behind the scenes of the new Victoria’s Secret docuseries, and then home to do GQ Man of the Year,’ I rattle off my glamorous life.

‘I’ll gladly accompany you to England and New York, but I’ll skip the sausage fest in LA.’ I jokingly scowl at him for wanting to come to New York. ‘I only want to come to New York to see you in your sexy as fuck lingerie,’ he makes amends, bringing a flirty smile back to my face.

We appreciate a couple of moments of silence, taking in each other’s features. I hadn’t seen him for years, and now his face is the only one I want to see.

‘You’re so breathtakingly beautiful, do you know that?’ he whispers. I blush at his words.

‘Anyone would look good in what I’m wearing,’ I chuckle.

‘Hart, I’m not even looking at your body. Your face is angelic. I wish I was there, tangling my hands in those raven soft waves, or staring into your gorgeous jade eyes. Those lips are sinful, but it’s when you speak that entrances me. I live to see you smile, and I long to just hold you again. We didn’t get enough time together, baby.’ His words are so sweet, I might just die from sugar overload.

‘I know. I’ve missed us so much. So much time wasted apart. I missed seeing you go from aboy to a man. Missed seeing all your significant milestones. I feel like time was stolen from us, and it is so unfair.’

This is the last conversation I thought I’d be having while sailing on a yacht in Italy, but the moment is organic and real, making it that much more significant.

‘But look where you are now, Hart. You’re living a dream beyond anything you could have imagined.’

It’s true.

‘I am. I never set out to be rich and famous, but this has been the best experience of my life. I am so grateful for the life I’ve lived and the world I’ve seen. But things worked out for you too, right?’

‘Absolutely. Unlike you, this is exactly my dream. You know that. I’d always planned on being an architect. It is unbelievable, seeing people’s dreams come to life. It is a surreal feeling to drive past something that started on a piece of paper.’

‘Plus, you get to work for our dads, and will probably take over one day.’ It makes me happy that our parents’ legacy will live on, and when that time comes, Lincoln won’t have just have it handed to him, he’ll have earned it.

‘Makes me sad that I missed seeing how incredible you are.’

‘You haven’t missed anything, Hart. I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life. Besides, I have my first major unveiling coming up, so you can be a part of that. I consider it the biggest milestone in my career yet.’ I see the boyish grin on his face and it makes me want to root for him harder.

I want him to have all the success in the world, which is huge, coming from me, considering barely a month ago, I wished he’d drop dead. It solidifies how far I’ve come in forgiving him and moving on from the past.

For the next half hour, we chat about his job, our dads, Mum’s return and a little bit about how long I’ll be in LA for once GQ Man of the Year is over.

‘I’d love to come and visit you for real, though. I want to see your world,’ Lincoln murmurs.

‘Maybe one day,’ I sigh wistfully, wondering what that would look like. Would he belong here with me, or would I belong with him in the Gold Coast if we ever make our way back to each other?

‘That is, if you want me to?’ he questions.

‘I do. I think we need to just carve out some time. We still have some things to work through, and I guess that’s on me to prioritise them.’

‘Amity!’ I’m being called by one of my team.

‘Shit. Linc, I’m being called. I’m so sorry. I have to go. I’ll try and call you again soon, but it could be a few days, or a week.’ I hope he can hear the disappointment in my voice. I did really want to speak to him.

Waving me off with complete understanding, he lets me go. ‘Go. Go. I’ll check in with you soon. I miss you,’ he adds.

I couldn’t tell you where the last couple of weeks went. The days all bleed into one. While I love every part of my job, I’ve felt a piece of me missing ever since I had left the Gold Coast. It’s a gnawing feeling I try to tamp down, but it always manages to worm its way up. Everyone I love is there, living life without me. I am missing so much.

The only time I managed to breathe a little easier was when Jagger came to stay with me for a few days. When he left again, that hole reopened.

It is rare that I have a day off here, but today is one of those days. Unfortunately, Lincoln has gone radio silent. Of course, it could be because it’s about three A.M. at Gold Coast, and it’s ten A.M. the day after here. I’m still unsettled that it has been a good day or so that I haven’t heard from him.

Still, creeping thoughts invaded my mind. Is he with Billie? Did he have a change of heart about me? Are my lifelong battles and addictions too much to take on? It’s frightening, the thoughts I am having over him, and the inadvertent power he has over my body.

To tame these thoughts, I remind myself of all the thoughtful gestures he’s done for me since I left, which never fail to strike up butterflies in my stomach. He always manages to tell me how gorgeous I am and how talented when he sees a new interview pop up, and he even gently reminds me to take care of myself. I lean on his messages like fuel to keep me running. I am aware that our relationship is turning into something more than casual, and that our bond is strengthening again, but I still want to go through counselling with him, so nothing from our past could destroy us again.

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.’