10. catch and release
CHAPTER 10
CATCH AND RELEASE
IVY
Of all the people to say the wrong thing to, I had to go and call Lincoln my boyfriend to his own mother .
Great work, me. Perfect aim. Ten out of ten. Might just want to work on the whole “think before shooting” thing next time.
Oh god. I flirted with her. At least I can say I have impeccable taste.
He hasn’t let go of me since his brother appeared. That must be a good sign, right? But as he leads me by the hand to the hallway, I can’t judge his expression, and I’m spiraling a little.
I just need to know how badly I screwed up so I can start planning my apology meal. Frustrated? Caponata. Pissed? Gorgonzola gnocchi. Disappointed and turned off forever?
My nonna’s sfinciuni made from scratch, with all the cannoli he can stomach.
God, tonight was going so well until now.
“Lincoln—”
“Hang on,” he says.
So I do, my stomach clenched until we’re past the party and out the door, where the cool night air kisses my skin.
It’s quiet on the porch, everything muted, like sinking under water, leaving nothing to distract me from the running monologue in my head.
Pulling Lincoln to a stop, I let my thoughts spill free. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known she was your mom, I never would have said… But she’s great, by the way. Even if your brother is a bit stiff.”
Lincoln’s mouth curls at the edges like he’s holding back a laugh.
“You were doing what I asked. Nothing more. I only hope they didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
The gentle stroke of his thumb on my skin means I don’t immediately understand what he’s just said. But when I do, I’m confused. He’s worried about me being uncomfortable? The person who created this mess?
“What? No.”
Relief appears to loosen his smile, and it unfurls to its full, devastating effect. My bones forget how to be a solid.
“There's something I’d like from you.” His voice is low, a secret being traded in the darkness, one I’m desperate to follow down the rabbit hole. Of course he does. He hasn’t been subtle. Neither have I. “Do you trust me?”
Trust is complicated. Do I? I’m not sure yet, but I think I’d like to.
I like a man more when he can take charge. If he can take care of himself, I know he can take care of me. And I need a lot of looking after. Just ask my mom.
It’s a rare quality, sadly. I once dated a guy who would eat on the couch (not the crime, stay with me) and when he was done, put his plates on the floor by his feet. They’d sit there for hours. Sometimes days.
The real kicker was if I brought it up, he’d simply say, “If it bothers you, you can clean it.” As if he was doing me a favor by letting me wash up after him.
I didn’t date a single man for a year after that.
Then I binge watched Narcos and… Let’s just say Pedro Pascal has a lot to answer for.
I know that, come morning, this infatuation will be over. So why not go all in? The ultimate “yes, and…” Let’s see what he can really do. “I’m in your”— strong, sexy, extremely capable— “hands.”
He caresses the inside of my wrist. “No follow-up questions? Or perhaps it’s the surprise that excites you.”
I lick my lips. He’s right. It’s like I’m glass. My every desire laid out before him. That’ll make this interesting.
“If you’re as good as I think you are,” I say, my pulse tripping over itself when his eyes darken, “I won’t have anything to worry about. And if you’re not, I’ll say mask off , and you’ll stop.”
I’ve played enough to know my way around safe words and a traffic light system, and the confidence in Lincoln’s shoulders as they roll back tells me he has too.
“You have my word.”
Nerves I never knew existed are sparking to life, jolted into hunger with each whispered tease.
Obviously, he’s gorgeous, with the exact ratio of height-biceps-waist that is my personal catnip. Don’t even get me started on the accent. It should be registered as a weapon.
Goose bumps blossom to life all over my body as he brushes his fingers up the line of my neck.
“Can I be anyone?” I ask, because tonight gave me a taste of excitement I’m not ready to give up yet. Maybe it’ll be easier to walk away tomorrow if I’m not myself.
He tucks a stray hair behind my ear, then traces his thumb along my jaw. “Of course. Set the scene, and I’ll do the rest.”
Okay.
I’m transfixed by the pull of Lincoln’s shirt over his pecs. I’ve never seen a button fight for its life the way this one is. It probably wouldn’t take much for it to give way. Maybe a quick pull of teeth, and it’d be undone.
I wonder if it’s smooth underneath, or if his nipples are dusted with the same dark hair that shades his forearms. I like a bit of hair. Can definitely get on board if Lincoln’s sporting some. Or maybe he keeps it tidy, lets the tattoos take the spotlight. I lick my lips. I can almost taste it.
“Tell me, Ivy.” His eyes are black. I’m momentarily speechless.
A thrill runs down my spine at the lead he’s giving me. I can take this anywhere I want. Who am I tonight? Who is he?
Lincoln presses in close, until I’m taking a step back, until I’m pressed to the wall and he’s surrounding me in every way. Until nothing exists but him.
“I’m someone…” My eyes flutter closed as Lincoln trails two fingertips across my collarbone. “Powerful.”
He hums his understanding. “Even powerful people need protecting.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, but it’s my job to protect you, isn’t it?”
God, how did he know? Yes, please, protect me. I don’t care if it isn’t real.
“Only inside the castle walls,” I whisper, silently begging him to play along. I’ve never done this before, but all of a sudden, I want to see how far he’ll go. Will he surprise me? Or will I scare him off, like all the others?
He ducks his head, placing a gentle kiss on my shoulder. “That’s where you’re wrong, princess.” Fire sparks to life under my skin. It thrills me that he’s playing along. Oh, this is going to be good. “You’re lucky your sharp tongue kept everyone from guessing who you truly are, but you can’t fool me.”
No, I can’t, can I? “What happens now?”
Time has frozen while we breathe, his lips so close I swear I can feel them against mine. Even with the mask, I feel exposed. Bared to his eyes only. As though he knows everything I can’t ask for.
“Now,” he says, the word gliding down my spine like a caress, “I’m going to take you home, and you’re going to do as you’re told. Isn’t that right?”
I nod, my pulse hammering in my throat.
His smile is absolutely sinful. “Good girl.”
* * *
I’ve always liked the dark. The mystery, the possibility, the drama. It’s things that go bump in the night, a waiting stage, a blanket of shadow to hide misdeeds under.
It’s always thrilled me.
Walking down the hallway to my door, I can feel the pressure of him at my back, even from a distance. It’s in the silent way he stalks me, only a few feet away. The weight of his gaze on my back, heavy as any caress, sends tingles down my spine.
It’s in the chasm of the unknown ahead of me. Each step brings me closer to danger.
I keep walking.
There’s a heavy heat between my thighs, where I’m wet with anticipation. What happens when I reach my door? Will he drop the charade? Kiss me good night and leave?
He was right. I want this. I want him.
When I pull out my keys, he stops me, his palm warm as he slides it around my neck, this thumb tipping my head back. I’m caught by his eyes, staring into mine, our breaths in sync. We stay like that. In, out. The ends of his lashes glow golden in the hall light.
My heart is pounding.
He dips down, stopping just as his lips catch mine. “This kiss is mine. No games. Just you and me.”
I go breathless as he closes the gap, slotting our mouths together so perfectly I lose all sense of anything that isn’t us.
Finally.
Lincoln wastes no time. He sweeps his tongue into my mouth, swallowing each sigh I make. Every move he makes is sure, firm. Dancing his fingers along my neck. The little scrapes of teeth as he sucks on my lower lip. The soothing touch of his thumb afterward.
It’s everything a first kiss should be.
When he straightens, I can tell we’re back to the game. It’s in the wicked gleam in his eyes.
I nod, and it’s the green light he’s waiting for.
He fits himself to my back, stilling my hand where I’m holding my keys. Goose bumps rise along the stretch of my neck when he dips his head, his voice a husky whisper in my ear.
“You say the word and it stops. Do you understand?” He takes a step forward, pressing me against the door. Anyone could find us like this. My pulse races. “Answer me.”
He thrusts his thigh roughly between mine, biting down on my ear, pulling a gasp from me. I can feel my body responding, my thighs clenching around him. I want him so much it hurts. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Lincoln pulls my hand up to the lock, opens the door, and slowly leads me inside. “Stop,” he says, then when I do, adds, “Eyes forward.” Fireworks are detonating below my belly button.
He closes the door and steps up behind me, taking my keys and purse out of my hands and putting them somewhere I can’t see.
The lights in my apartment are out, moonlight glinting off the handheld mirror I left on the coffee table next to my makeup; a half-finished glass of water beside it. The pair of heels I’d decided against lying on the floor.
Plastering himself to my back, he teases his fingertips from my hands to my shoulders, then curls his hand around my neck, guiding my head back. Holding me there.
Every nerve in my body is on fire.
“Do you know how easy it would have been to hurt you tonight?” he asks. I hope it’s a rhetorical question, because I’m so turned on I don’t think I can speak. “You’re lucky I found you before anyone else did.”
Yes, I am.
My heart is going rabid under his palm. Jesus. He wouldn’t even need to use those insane biceps; he could crack me open with his jaw. “I should punish you for disobedience. Maybe then you’ll listen to me.”
My knees buckle. Please. His hand flexes. Not enough to hurt, but to show he could if I wanted him to.
“You’ve been too reckless with your own life, princess, but I won’t be.”
With my throat still cradled in one hand, he uses the other to slowly pull down the strap of my dress. It falls down my arm, and my nipple hardens in the cold air.
Goose bumps flood my skin. “Did you really think you could hide from me? I’ve been tasked with your protection, and I take my vow very seriously.”
Fucking hell. I’m a puddle.
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Teasing me all night. Begging to be caught. To be put in your place. Chasing danger and wanting to find it.”
My hands lay limp at my sides, waiting for his next move. I’m desperate for him to touch me. Anywhere.
“Always so responsible, taking on everyone else’s issues. It’s all right. I’m strong enough, princess. That’s why you picked me. I’ll look after you.” He keeps his whispered promise, dragging his fingertips along my breast and circling my nipple. One touch, and it peaks, striking a chord that goes straight to my throbbing clit.
He circles, pinches, teases it, holding me against his chest with intent and his palm.
Please , I want to say.
Take care of me. Prove you’re someone who cares. Prove I’m worth caring for.
The words stick in my throat, coming out as a pleading moan that Lincoln must understand, because he tightens his grip, sliding his palm up until his thumb and forefinger frame my jaw, tilting my head back until my mouth falls open. My breathing is ragged, loud in my ears.
My hand comes up, sliding through his hair as he licks the pleasure from my lips. Making me pant as he pinches my nipple again.
He breaks the kiss. “Take it off. I don’t want anything in my way.”
Quickly, I shake off the other strap of my dress and let gravity help slip it to the floor. It pools at my feet, and Lincoln plucks at the waistband of my black underwear. “All of it.”
Fuck. Is it possible to see heaven without dying? Because I may find out tonight. I pull them off, and then I’m standing naked in the middle of my living room, a fully dressed Lincoln pressed to my back, with only my heels and a mask left to hide behind.
Without removing his hand from my throat, he dips his head, kissing my shoulder. “Christ, look at you. You’re beautiful.”
My clit is tingling, and he hasn’t even touched it yet. And then he is, and holy fucking shit. Oh my god oh my god oh my god, his fingers.
“No one knows that this is who is hiding underneath all those pretty clothes, do they? Maybe I should keep you like this. Safe and secure.”
I squirm as he touches me, hearing myself whine as he circles my clit, dragging his fingers down my pussy, playing with my wetness, dipping one finger, then two, in, out.
“Look at how wet you are,” he says. “Fucking perfect.”
Fuck, I need him inside me already. It’s not enough, but oh, I don’t want him to stop.
“Please—” I bite back his name just in time. “More.”
“Uh-uh, this is all you’re getting for now. Come on, ride my fingers. Show me how much you want my cock inside you.”
The scratch of his belt on my back turns my blood red hot. He’s still fucking dressed, growling filthy lines in my ear while his fingers work me over, deeper and deeper.
“Fuck, you love it, don’t you? I could slide right in. You’re sucking my fingers in, darling.”
Oh, god. I can feel it. His thick fingers pumping into me, slick, moving easily inside me. And it’s so good. All I can do is hold on. Be good.
“Is that what you were after tonight? Did you get sick of life locked away in your castle? You needed to get a taste of excitement? A bit of danger?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“No, that’s not it. Not completely.” He curls his fingers around my throat, grip loose, weighted. A shiver rolls through me. “Trapped inside all the time, yearning to be free. Always so good.” My pulse hammers under his palm. “Trying so hard to make everyone else happy. But what about you? Who is taking care of what you need?”
He is.
Lincoln pulls my jaw down, opening my mouth wider, licking his way inside. Owning the kiss without hesitation. If he stepped back, I’m sure I’d fall. I’m not aware of anything that isn’t his lips on mine, the pressure of his thumb digging into the soft skin under my jaw.
“Please,” I gasp when I can breathe again.
“Please, what?” He circles my clit faster now, heat building under my skin, my orgasm so close he must be able to taste it. “Always in control. Wanting someone to take care of you. Anyone can adore you, but what you really want is to let go. Maybe it’s time you followed orders for a change.”
Oh, god. Yes.
“Come on, princess. It’s my job to take care of you, so let me.”
Another swipe of his thumb, and I’m shaking all over, pulsing around his fingers as he makes me come. It explodes everywhere, all at once, overwhelming in the best way.
“That’s it.”
It goes and goes and goes, and all I can do is let it, arching against Lincoln. He never stops holding me, rock solid at my back, his arm a steel bar across my chest. Steady. Sure.
Letting me let go.
My mouth is dry from panting, my hands cramped and sweaty from gripping his arm, his hair. Lincoln kisses a damp trail along my cheek as I come down, never letting me go.
“Beautiful,” he breathes against my skin. “Do you need more?”
I nod, still floating.
He guides me over to the couch, the friction of his clothes lighting sparks along my skin. My knees wobble, weak from coming. Weak from him. When my calves hit the sofa, he cradles my jaw and turns me for a filthy kiss. I let him take whatever he wants, and he does.
“Up you get,” he directs. “Hands and knees. Let me look at you.”
I follow his order, clutching the back of the sofa, my heart knocking against my chest. His hand never leaves me, gently touching my hip as I get into position, then stroking a firm line down my spine once I’m settled.
Every touch is a relief.
“Beautiful,” he says, then steps closer to touch the ribbon at the back of my head. The feel of his pants against my sensitive pussy sends a shiver all the way to my toes. “Do you want this off?”
“No.” Definitely not. This is too good. I’m not ready for real. “Please.”
“It’s all right,” he soothes. “I’ve got you.”
Then he falls to his knees, his hands splayed on my thighs, encouraging them wider, and I slide them apart. “That’s it, good.”
Lincoln drags his hands up my thighs slowly, palms hot on my ass, holding me open with his thumbs. “Look at this greedy little clit.” My knees shake when he breathes a hot gust over my clit.
“Come on, princess. Show me how sweet you can be.”
I jolt at the first touch of his tongue, still sensitive from my orgasm, but— oh, fuck— needing so much more. Each drag of his mouth against my clit makes me hotter, wetter, needier.
Lincoln pulls off with a little suck, his fingers digging deliciously into my hips. “My fucking god. I could spend all night here. Christ.”
Yes, do that. Please.
I whine, breathless, as he stands. But the sound of his belt is a relief. I close my eyes, clenching against the cool air, listening as it hits the ground and the zipper of his pants is dragged down.
Then the heat of Lincoln’s palm is back on my skin, gently brushing my damp hair away from my back, over my shoulder.
“What would they say if they could see you like this? Begging me to fill you? Their sweet, wholesome princess bent over so easily? One look at this greedy cunt of yours, and they’d know who you really are.”
He rubs soothing circles into my skin as the sound of a wrapper hits my ears, feel his hand leave me briefly as he must roll it on. I wish I could see him, but I don’t think I can move.
“You’re not invincible, princess. You need protecting. I’m going to show you.”
I press my forehead harder against the cushion, my pussy clenching, pleading.
He must know how much I need it. Has to. I feel it screaming from every pore. Touch me, take me, have me . He has to know.
“Say it.”
“ Please , fuck me.”
“Such pretty words you’re filled with. I’d love to see what else these beautiful lips can fit.”
“Lincoln,” I whine. He curses, dark and low, when he finally slides inside me, like it’s punched out of him. “You’re perfect, darling.”