Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FRANCESCA
When I park outside the house, I glance over to find Kincaid staring back at me, a soft smile on his face, and a tight knot in my stomach loosens. No matter how I chastise myself over the insanity of our lopsided relationship, I can’t deny how good he sometimes makes me feel.
And the rush of concern today took me by surprise. No matter what I promised myself, our attraction keeps growing. Even the worst moments from today haven’t tempered my reaction.
There’s a new delivery box on the front step, and while I unlock the door, Kincaid picks it up, sporting a wide grin when he reads the label. “What’s that?”
“A surprise for later.”
He orders food while I get changed and tell him about new propellant research while we’re eating. I stop midway through, worried I’m monopolising the conversation or boring him, but he asks questions until I share more, appearing genuinely interested.
When we relax on the sofa afterwards, it feels natural for his large arms to hold me in a tight embrace.
I’m nearly dozing, when he gives me a nudge. “Time for your present.” He pushes the delivery box into my hands and steers me towards the bedroom.
When I slow my step, he laughs, lifting me in a bear hug from behind, and walking me into the room.
With his back against the door, he nods to the gift. “Go on. Open it.”
The glint in his eyes makes me equal parts excited and nervous. My throat is too dry to swallow as I pull out the box inside and laugh in relief.
It’s a dildo. Modelled on his gigantic cock.
“I had hoped it would be ready sooner, but—”
“They ran out of silicone?”
His soft chuckle sends a delicious shiver along my spine. “It’s not one hundred percent perfect, but it’s basically the right size. I thought you could use this for practice.”
“This will never fit inside me. You must be crazy.” I shove the gift back at him, but he raises his hands, laughing.
“This is personal development. I thought you were big on that.” He steps towards me, making my pulse hum in my neck. “Don’t you want it to be as good for me as it does for you?”
“If you genuinely want to feel the same, buy a malfunctioning fleshlight that crushes anything inside until you’re in the same discomfort.”
Kincaid’s eyes gleam. “Well, shit. That’s dark.”
He scoops me close, and snaps the box open, fiddling with the twist ties to free the monstrosity inside.
“I want to observe your first practice session.” He waggles the dildo, the realistic veins and moulded head so lifelike it’s disconcerting, especially when he holds it in front of his own growing bulge. “Maybe give a few pointers.”
“You can’t be serious.” The suggestion makes my face hot.
“It’s for your benefit, too.” When I remain unconvinced, he adds, “Would you prefer I guide you?” He pushes the unholy toy into my hand. “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have—”
“I love your fighting spirit, Freckles, but—honest to God—if you’re not naked in five seconds, I’m tearing off your clothes myself.”
The hoarse growl turns my nervous system to chaos. I undo my blouse and when he clicks his tongue impatiently, I move faster. Stripping off my shirt and jeans, unhooking my bra and automatically putting my arm across my breasts.
“Don’t do that,” comes his immediate response. “I want to see all of you.”
I lower my arm and drop my head, stripping off my thick winter socks, then my underwear, and adding them to the pile.
“That’s better.”
Kincaid’s voice thickens further. A rumble of approval.
I lie on my back on the bed, then falter. My eyes widen as his weight makes the bed dip. He gives an amused snort at my alarm. “Relax. Just giving you a hand with the lube.”
He pumps some on the dildo, massaging it over the tip.
“Should I leave you two, alone?” I ask, then clamp my lips shut, appalled at my daring.
Kincaid just laughs, leaning down to spread the lips of my pussy. He positions the toy at my entrance, and places my hand on the base, pausing until I take control. “You’re such a weird girl, Freckles. Honestly, I have more fun with you than anyone else.”
Fun. Right.
Closing my eyes again, I gently push the silicone inside. It grips a little despite the lube. I raise my right thigh for better access, curving across in a protective gesture. Kincaid pulls it higher, until my foot is flat on the bed, holding it in place.
“You can do a little better than that for me, can’t you?”
Biting my lip, I push it farther inside, the stretch easier to bear since I’m in control.
When I rest, letting, my body adjust, Kincaid’s hand swallows mine and pushes another inch into me.
“Don’t—”
“Then do better. I’ve got a thousand things I could be doing, and I chose this above all of them. Don’t make me regret my decision.” When my mouth opens, he puts a finger to it. “No. No more wisecracks until that thing’s buried so far inside you, I can see the tip poking your stomach from the inside.”
I push again, and there’s still so much to go. The sensation of fullness is more welcome this time, like my body has already adjusted.
“That’s my limit,” I say, pushing the toy until the stretch inside me starts to burn. “I can’t fit any more.”
“You can’t fit it yet ,” he says, brushing my cheek with his curled knuckle. “Woah, woah, woah.” He stops me withdrawing the toy. “What’re you doing?”
I frown in confusion. “You said—”
“Pushing it in once and taking it out isn’t going to work.” He laughs again, bending to kiss my shoulder. “That length is fine for your first thrust, but you’ll be able to fit more when you’re aroused.”
His voice thickens with lust.
“Use it to make yourself come. It’ll loosen you up for what I have planned next. You didn’t forget, did you?” His fingers go exploring between my cheeks, tapping against the plug. “Good girl.”
Emotions explode inside me and it’s hard to talk with my breath hitching. My words come out staccato. “I can’t while you’re watching.”
He theatrically puts a hand over his eyes, then jerks it away with a grin. “Yes, you can. Won’t you at least try?”
It’s hard to breathe. Even with him watching my face rather than concentrating between my legs, I’m still exposed. I jump when his hand closes over my breast, the palm circling at first, then his thumb flicks across my nipple until it hardens.
The heat between my legs isn’t just coming from the massive toy. With the plug inside me as well, there’s a satisfying fullness. They play off each other, heightening the pleasure until my dirty mind wonders what it would be like to take him and the new toy at the same time.
I’d probably explode.
Kincaid splays his hand over my midriff, keeping me in place while his mouth lowers to take my nipple into his mouth. “I’d ask if you like that,” he says, mouth popping as he withdraws. “But you’ll just lie to me. So, I’ll have to judge from your reactions.”
He blows a soft breath where his mouth was, turning the sensitive skin cold. Then he warms it again with his tongue, the rough surface sending a jolt straight down to my core. All the while, his fingers press on top of my hand, encouraging the dildo deeper into my body.
Any discomfort is gone, even the stretch pleasurable as it penetrates farther than before.
I gasp as he abruptly sits upright, then kneels between my legs. He raises my left leg until it’s bent at a matching angle to the right, then pauses, hands cupping my knees as he stares at his gigantic likeness pumping in and out of my pussy.
A new level of heat fills me. I watch through narrowed lids at him watching me. Both turned into voyeurs.
“Keep using it just like that,” he says, then groans as he rubs himself, cock straining at his jeans.
I tense, but his hand falls away, not undressing.
Instead, he stands and hauls me to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of doing this,” he murmurs, then bends his head, fingers spreading me wider as his mouth fastens over my clit.
I jump at the sensation. Squirming. Trying to get away, but he clamps my thighs hard enough his fingertips dimple into my flesh.
“Stay put,” he growls, and the puff of air hits my clit, my hips tilting upwards as he lowers his mouth. His tongue licks along my folds, the vibration of his chuckle tickling my inner flesh as he pulls away. “You taste even better than my dreams.”
My hand keeps bumping into his chest as his mouth fastens on me, the slight suction making me groan no matter how hard I bite my lip, my vocal cords operating with a mind of their own.
“Such a sweet pussy for such a sweet girl.” When I pause, his hand controls mine again. “Don’t you dare stop. I want to see you climax with my toy inside you.”
My hips thrust to meet each pump of the dildo; the lingering embarrassment swept away by his adulation.
The idea of denying him by denying myself is too complicated to resume. As the heat spreads throughout my core, my clit throbs and swells inside his mouth. My thrusts increase, thighs squeezing until my head clouds over and the pulse of excitement makes my internal muscles clench.
“That’s my girl,” he mutters, pressing a line of kisses along the inside of my thigh. “Come for me.”
At his word, I’m swept under the sensation, lost in a swirling array of pleasure.
My fingers turn numb. The toy falls from my hand. Then he thrusts it inside me again, as far as before, then further, the sensation too much, much too much, until another wave of pleasure hauls me under the waves, and I’m lost.
No thought. No regret. Only the pulsing pleasure of release humming through my body.
He flips me onto my stomach, a pillow underneath my hips, and slowly, teasingly, pulls the plug out of me. I hear him squirting lube and next thing I know, his finger replaces it, penetrating easily even when he adds another, a slight burn returning but quickly fading when he adds a third.
I moan in protest when he withdraws, then returns with a vibrator that he places an inch from my clit, the reverberations a tease that slowly builds. Slick noises tell me he’s lubing his cock, and I twist to look over my shoulder, arching my arse into the air at the sight.
The head of him eases inside, and I tense.
“Relax, Freckles. Push back against me.”
I follow the instruction, burying my face in the pillow when it feels too much, panting until he withdraws. The next thrust is easier, the prep having done its job, the vibrations from the toy helping to keep me relaxed.
With his next thrust, there’s a pinch, then he’s further inside, the slowness of his movements driving me crazy.
“How’re you doing?”
“Good.” I turn my head aside. “I’m not going to break.”
His movements gain speed, and I didn’t think I was close, but in just a few minutes, I’m cresting the waves of pleasure again, arching my back to try to position the toy in the right place, Kincaid’s thrusts edging me for a few more minutes, before the crescendo builds, higher than before, the ragged gasps in my ear the best audible accompaniment as the strongest orgasm I’ve ever felt takes me in its fist and squeezes me till the very last drop.
My head spins as Kincaid chases his own release, the vibrator still humming between my legs. There’s a new burst of pressure, then he groans, arm tightening around me, his cock twitching until he carefully withdraws, taking away the toy and collapsing by my side, arms tender around me.
My head automatically snuggles into the shelter of his broad chest, hiding my smile, dopey and satisfied.
His fingers continue to stroke and play with my hair and it’s nice to be petted like a kitten. Treated like something precious rather than a disappointment.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mutters, untangling himself from me to roll onto his back, tugging his jeans and zipping them back into place, then holding me close again. “Are you okay?”
I giggle and it sounds like I’m drunk. “More than okay.”
The words are barely out of my mouth, when another noise joins them.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
The phantom sound erupts in the walls, the ceiling, the floor— inside my head— and I tense, curling my knees to my chest, already trembling. I shove my hands over my ears, emitting small whimpers of terror as the entire house comes alive with the noise.
Kincaid stares, eyes wide with confusion. When he reaches for me, I roll away, too frightened for comfort.
“What’s wrong?” I have to read his lips because my hands block real sounds while not doing shit about the ones in my imagination. He gets to his feet, towering over me. “Talk to me.”
“It’s not real,” I say, not sure if it’s for his benefit or mine. Then I raise my voice, shouting, “You’re not real!”
The lights flicker off then on again, and I scream, closing my eyes, every muscle in my body pulling tight.
Then Kincaid’s strong arms are cradling me to his chest. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging for dear life while he sprints from the house.
My fingers dig into his back, holding him so close it’s like I’m trying to climb inside him.
Terror still pulses through my veins, but his embrace soothes the worst of my panic. I nuzzle my head into the side of his neck, my empty sobs vibrating against his throat, too scared, too tired, too confused to weep tears, the release more like a stuttering scream.
“You’re okay,” he whispers into my ear, lips brushing against my lobe, his right hand shielding my head, the fingers so large, so thick, I calm in their cocoon of safety. “Shh, shh. You’re okay.”
And the tears finally come, spilling down my cheeks, mixing with snot and spit until his skin is wet, my terror draining with them to dribble down his throat, gathering in his collarbone.
He snuffles with laughter. “You really don’t like mice. Noted.”
The words take an age to penetrate through my panic. For my head to untangle enough to make sense of them.
Mice?
MICE!!!
My chest hitches, then releases enough for me to blurt, “You can hear the scratching, too?”
He tips my chin, reading my expression while the glinting reflection from the streetlamps shine in his eyes.
“Can I hear the loud army of little rodents scurrying around the walls of your house?” His voice is slightly incredulous, cautiously teasing. “Yes, I can hear them. I do have ears.” He rests his cheek against the crown of my head. “If this is a hearing test, we both get gold stars.”
I glance back at the house, and flinch when the lights again flicker.
“The little scamps are probably chewing through your wires.” He bumps his nose against my cheek, a cold counterpoint to the pulsing heat of my receding panic. “Are you okay to sit in the car for a minute? I’ll grab your clothes and turn off the power. If they’ve nibbled into the wires, I don’t want the place to burn.”
The thought of the freezer being shut off should terrify me.
Instead, I’m calmed by the realisation I can’t keep my secret hidden for much longer.
Along with that comes the understanding I do trust Kincaid. Unlikely as it seemed to me a few short weeks ago.
“It’s okay.” I untangle my arms and legs to stand beside him in the street, completely naked until he covers me with his warm jacket. I pull the collar high, snuggling into the softness, inhaling his scent. “I just thought…”
A new rush of tears overwhelms me, choking off my words as he pulls me against his chest, rocking me, one hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.
It’s surreal enough that I laugh.
“What is it?”
“I can’t believe I thought you were a monster.”
He stops moving except for the hand on my back, still offering comfort. “I am a monster,” he says softly. “But I’m your monster.”
Another deluge of tears breaks free, but he doesn’t appear worried, just pulls me against his chest again, warming me. “Do you want to come back to mine?”
“And make it easier for your uncle to kill me?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve explained how important you are to me… and he’s out of the country right now.”
His soft chuckle vibrates against my cheek, and I hug him tighter. Forgetting why I ever thought he’s the enemy. “Thank you.”