Chapter 28 Lawson #2
Leaning forward, I slowly run my tongue between her folds, letting me taste her arousal for the first time. “You’re mine now, Honey,” I say. The words steady and true. “And I take care of what’s mine.”
When I glance up at her, I watch as a small, singular tear falls from the corner of her eye. But the rest of her face tells a different story. She isn’t sad. She looks… grateful. Awed. Worshipped.
And I’ve barely even begun.
That’s fine, though.
She’s about to learn exactly what it feels like to be worshipped by me.
I listen carefully, taking in every moan of pleasure, every gasp for breath, every “yes, Lawson,” as I learn exactly what makes her body feel alive.
When I close my lips over her clit and slip one finger inside her pussy, she pulls at the strands of my hair as she thrusts her hips into my face. “That’s it, just like that. You’re doing so beautifully, Abbie.”
I can feel myself leaking behind my jeans. I know if I reach down and touch myself right now, I’ll come, and I want this to be all about her.
“More. Lawson, I need more.”
I add a second finger as my other hand reaches up her body, and pulls one cup of her bra down, letting her breast slip free.
My fingers continue to work inside of her, as I kiss my way up her torso before sucking her pink nipple into my mouth.
And when I bite at it gently, letting my teeth graze the sensitive skin, she yells out in pleasure.
“Holy shit. Yes. That feels—that feels so good.” I free her other breast and let myself play with her nipples in my mouth for another minute. “I need more, Lawson. Please. Please give me more.”
I love that she’s not afraid to ask for more. And I’ll be damned if I’m not going to give it to her. “Think you can take three?”
Her eyes widen as she looks up at me, but she nods eagerly. “Yes.”
I glance down at her chest, red from the scruff along my jaw, and move my head back between her legs.
She’s wet enough that a third finger slides inside of her with no effort.
I close my mouth back over her clit and pinch one of her nipples with my free hand, giving her as much stimulation as I can.
It only takes a few seconds before her hips begin steadily rocking against my face, and the walls of her perfect fucking pussy begin tightening around my finger.
And when I gently bite at the bundle of nerves, she explodes around my fingers.
“Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohymygod,” she screams as she continues to come.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a greedy enough bastard that I want as much of her as I can get, so I pull my fingers from her pussy and stick my tongue in her entrance as far as it can go.
And holy shit, I’ve never tasted anything more delicious in my life. My fingers work her clit as I continue to tongue fuck her, drawing out her orgasm for as long as I can. Only when her muscles relax beneath me, and she tries to shove my hand away, do I relent.
Careful not to crush her, I crawl up the bed until my face hovers above hers. Selfishly, I grind my dick, which is still painfully hard and tucked away in my jeans, against her cunt. It gives me just enough pressure that after one, two, three thrusts, I blow in my pants like a fucking teenager.
I crash my mouth against hers, letting her savor my groans just as I did hers, letting her taste her release on my lips.
We get lost in one another for a minute or two before I give her a few more quick kisses and pull myself away so I can look at her.
Her pale cheeks are flushed, her eyes are glossy, and her red strands are fanned out beneath her.
She looks… perfect.
“Did you just—”
“Come in my pants? Yeah, I did.” I’m not ashamed to admit it either.
The corner of her lips pulls into an equally devious and embarrassed grin. “You didn’t want to—I mean—don’t you—”
I silence her with another kiss. “Trust me, Honey. I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad I just came in my pants. Something I don’t think I’ve done since I was fifteen.
But I wanted that to be about you more. You deserve to be worshipped.
To be cherished. And I wanted to give that to you.
I just got a little too excited there at the end, is all. ”
She laughs softly, and I can’t help but grin like a damn fool as I look down at her. Her fingers draw lazy circles on my back, and I cup her face with one hand. “How do you feel?”
“I feel… perfect.”
Perfect.
I give her one more long and slow kiss before crawling off the bed. “Do you mind if I throw these in the wash, quick? I think we have some spare clothes I can sleep in lying around here somewhere.”
She sits up on her elbows. “You’re really staying here?”
I smile back at her. “I’m really staying here.”
“Oh. Umm… sure. Go ahead.”
I quickly move about the house, throwing my jeans and underwear in the wash before finding a stack of extra men’s clothes we keep in the hall closet.
I slip on a pair of boxers before grabbing a men’s T-shirt and make my way back into her room.
She’s in the same place I left her, but her breasts are tucked back into her bra, and I can tell she’s smoothed out her hair.
I reach out my hand in her direction. “Come here.”
She places her hand in mine, and I pull her off the bed.
Staring into her eyes, I carefully remove her bra and slide the large white shirt over her small frame.
And when I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, she leans into my touch.
Her breathing is steadier now, but I can see the aftershocks of what we just did in her eyes.
So I keep my voice soft and even.
“You want me here,” I ask gently, “or you want the bed to yourself tonight? I can sleep on the couch, no problem.” I make sure she hears me clearly without me needing to say it twice.
“I’m stayin’ either way, Abigail. Couch, bed, floor—I don’t care.
But someone was on our ranch tonight, and I’m not leavin’ this house. ”
There’s no pressure. No expectation.
Just the truth.
“With me,” she says softly.
“With you,” I repeat and kiss her forehead softly.
The two of us go about getting ready for bed, and I let Lucy out one last time, doing a quick scan of the property while I stand at the door, before crawling under the covers.
And when she flicks off the bedside lamp, I pull her body to mine.
It only takes a couple of minutes before the sound of her soft snores fills the room, the soundtrack to most of my night.
Because I don’t sleep. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.
Every sound outside the walls registers.
The wind. The house settling. Lucy occasionally stirring.
My awareness stays sharp, tuned into her breathing, the rhythm of the room, the knowledge that she’s here, and trusting me enough to share this night with me.
That trust weighs more than anything else ever has.
For her, tonight wasn’t about giving me something.
It was about taking something back.
Choice. Control. Desire on her terms.
And for me?
I crossed a line I won’t pretend I can step back over.
Because now I know what it feels like to have her fall apart for me, now I know what it feels like to touch her, to hold her, to be trusted with something so fragile and so powerful all at once.
And I also know the truth I’ll have to face come morning.
Lincoln.
Jasper.
Beau.
This isn’t ownership. It never will be.
It’s understanding.
She doesn’t belong to one of us, and none of us are walking away.
I’ll share her with them if that’s what she wants. I know I can do that.
For her. For them. For myself.
But I’ll also keep her safe. I’ll stand between her and anything that thinks it can take without asking.
That’s not jealousy.
That’s a fucking promise.
My lips kiss the back of her head. “You’re safe,” I whisper into the night as she wiggles against me. “I’ve got you.”
They’re the same words I said in the kitchen, but I’ll say them over and over again until the end of time. With her breathing next to me, my resolve locks in place. The knowledge settles deep in my bones that whatever this becomes—whatever it costs—I’ll protect her through it.
Always.