Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lincoln/ Seven Years Ago
C licking the door closed behind me, I let my eyes roam over the borrowed clothing that exposes soft skin and expensive-looking matching black lingerie.
My body reacts, remembering what she felt like under my hands, under my mouth the first night. “Georgia,” I greet, dead bolting the door and leaning against it to take her in.
Nervousness coats her face as she rises onto her knees. “Lincoln.”
I walk over to her, my hand going to her hair, caressing the back of her skull, and wanting nothing more than to wrap the silky strands around my fingers to pull. “This is a nice thing to come home to.”
She bites her bottom lip, her hands moving to grip my shoulders.
“What are you doing, Peaches?” I ask when they start sliding down my chest, her palms exploring the muscles along the way until they stop at the waistband of my jeans.
“I’m not sure,” she admits, her fingers working to unfasten my belt. I’ve never really thought of inexperience as one of my turn-ons but seeing her shakily struggle with the buckle does something to me.
It makes me want to teach her.
“I want to…thank you.”
“Thank me?” I repeat in confusion.
“For everything you’ve done. The phone. Letting me stay here…”
I should tell her she doesn’t have to, but my brain is too distracted by each experimental touch of her featherlight fingers along my body.
This is the last thing I expected to come home to after spending two hours trying to convince my buddy Michael Knight to give me whatever intel he had on Nikolas Del Rossi. He wouldn’t offer me much, especially when I told him it was for personal reasons. “That’s a rabbit hole you don’t want to fall down, Hawk.” Which only makes me want to fall down it more.
If I tell Georgia I’m trying to look into her family, what would she say? Would she feel betrayed? Ask me to stop? Tell me to let her know the things her father clearly won’t let her in on? I don’t know, and my gut tells me not to bother risking it.
I told Knight, who I worked with for almost a year before he got promoted to the BCI, to let me know if anything interesting popped up. I’m not sure if he will, but it’s worth a shot.
All of that goes out the window when I feel Georgia’s hands on my body.
“Is this okay?” she asks, biting her bottom lip when her knuckles lightly graze over my hard length.
I watch her stare at me, studying every inch like she’s never seen anything like me before. Then again, her experience is minimal to none based on our last experience together.
“More than okay.”
I let her have control. For now. Mostly because I’m enjoying the ample attention my eyes give her breasts as she undresses me. First, the belt goes. Then the button and zipper of my jeans. She hesitates for a moment before tugging the denim down until they slide down my thighs, leaving me in my boxers and a ratty old T-shirt that smells like cigar smoke from the expensive Cuban stogie I bribed Knight with.
The way she stares at the growing bulge trapped behind my boxers only has me getting harder. And when she reaches out to cup me? Jesus fucking Christ. It’s game over.
Wanting more, I wrap a fistful of hair around my hand and pull hard enough to make her look at me. “Is this what you want, Peaches?”
All she does is swallow.
I tighten my grip, getting a sharp intake of breath from her as her hand tightens around my aching cock. “Use your big girl words,” I coax, my hand trailing down to grip her throat. “I want to hear you tell me what you want.”
Her breathing picks up, and I feel her throat bob with another nervous swallow. “I-I…”
My eyebrows go up in wait, my fingers itching to tighten even more around her pretty little neck. I can tell her what I want to do to her, but that’ll come later.
Then, to my complete but delighted surprise, she whispers, “I want you to fuck me.”
Fingers twitching around her throat, my nostrils flare. When we lock eyes, something in me snaps.
And suddenly, it’s me who’s in control again.
My lips crash into hers, my tongue and teeth dominating her mouth as my fingers work their way under the robe to slide it off her. When she’s bare to me in only a skimpy bra and panty set, I waste no time stripping off those items too until her perky breasts are in my hands and her pussy is readily available.
“Touch yourself,” I instruct.
She gapes. “W-what?”
I take her hand and lower it between her legs, putting her fingers directly where I want them. “I said, touch yourself.”
“I’ve never…” Her words fade when I use her hand to show her exactly what I want her to do, paying special attention to the nerves that have her lips parting wider as I apply more pressure.
Leaning forward, I press my lips against her ear and keep my hand on hers, working her together. “You’ve never touched yourself before?”
She releases a sharp breath. “N-no.”
My hand twitches around hers. It’s strange how turned on I am over the admission, but my dick is so hard it hurts. “We’re definitely going to have to change that,” I tell her.
In the back of my head, I make a note to buy a toy for her to use on herself when I’m gone.
When I let her go, I dip my head to the crook of her neck and trail kisses along the column of her throat, licking and nipping and sucking along the way as my hands play and tweak with her hardening nipples.
The first sound of her whimpered moan, as she plays with herself, has my eyes flaring and me shedding the rest of my clothing.
Kissing her again is brutal and demanding and needing all at once. It ignites a fire in my stomach that quickly has my dick at full attention. I grip her hair and lower her so she’s face-to-face with me. I stroke myself, watching her watch me twitch as if she’s mesmerized by how I grow.
Knowing she’s never done this before, I say, “Taste me. You can’t do it wrong.”
Hell, I don’t think there’s anything she could do that would fuck this up. Tentatively, she opens her mouth and—
Fuck. She proves me right.
I’ve always liked getting my dick sucked, but this is a whole different experience. The way her lips move over me experimentally, how her tongue gets in the way but brushes the perfect spot, even how her teeth graze me just gently enough to get a bite of pain without it actually hurting, makes me the hardest I’ve been in a long time.
Pulling her away from me when her mouth gets me good and wet, I claim her lips before she says anything, guiding her up to standing. She gasps when I pick her up, getting her to wrap her legs around my waist until my cock nudges her.
“I’m going to be very honest with you,” I say, pressing her against the wall. “I don’t think I can be gentle with you right now. So tell me what you can handle.”
I inch myself in and stop when her lips form an O, her head dropping back against the wall as she wiggles her hips and takes me deeper. Her arms wrap around my neck and squeeze. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”
It’s a miracle I don’t come right there. “This may hurt,” I warn, moving inside her.
The choked noise coming from her as I use my body weight to pin her against the wall has me hesitating only briefly before she dips her head into the crook of my neck and kisses me.
I hear one word. “Please.”
There’s something she’s trying to distract herself from. I’m tempted to ask, but something tells me we’re a lot more similar than either of us knows. Because I never want people butting into my business without me offering the information either. I want to escape it.
Just like her.
So, she lets me fuck her right there, no bed, no couch, just us. And each thrust feels like goddamn heaven, her body caressing me and feeding the fire trapped under my skin and scorching me internally.
Quickly, I pull out and bring her to the kitchen, bending her over the breakfast nook and bringing one of her legs toward her chest to rest on the cool countertop to get a deeper angle. And when I jackknife forward, the moan I’m rewarded with only stirs me to continue relentlessly.
The sounds between us as her body accepts me makes my stomach tighten and my dick twitch with an oncoming orgasm.
I reach for the small box I keep on the counter and open it to reveal a pair of silver handcuffs. The rattle is music to my ears, but nothing like when I put Georgia’s hands behind her back and listen to the cuffs click into place.
Reaching under her, I pay special attention to the button of nerves with one hand, tweaking and pinching and rubbing it until the sexiest sounds come out of her while keeping a firm grip on the handcuffs with my other.
Seeing her like this, submissive, willing, splayed in front of me to do whatever I please with, makes this end way sooner than I want.
“I’m going to come,” I warn her in a strangled voice, picking up the pace and wanting her to fall apart with me.
Moments later, I can’t hold back any longer, pulling out before I completely lose it inside of her. And seeing her back covered in me has me half-geared up for round two.
Gently, I lower her leg down until she’s securely on the floor. When she’s cleaned off with a kitchen towel, I stand her up and kiss her again. Once. Twice. Leaning my forehead against hers, I find myself smiling as I tug her into my body.
“Don’t worry,” I promise, lips trailing over her jawline. “We’re not done yet. I owe you at least two orgasms. And I know how I’m going to deliver the first one.”
She gasps when I lower to my knees and remind myself exactly how she got her nickname.
My sweet Georgia Peach.
“And when we’re done, we’re going to go online and buy you a vibrator so you can get yourself off when I’m gone,” I purr, right before I reacquaint my mouth with one of my favorite parts of her.