Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LINCOLN
Willa hadn’t said a word since we’d started packing up the booth once the festival was over.
Didn’t so much as breathe in my direction on the drive home.
Didn’t spare me a glance as I threw the truck into park or when she climbed out and yanked open the tailgate or when she grabbed a stack of empty crates from the back.
Nope. She just stomped up the porch like a hurricane with hips. And goddamn was I ready for this storm.
She’d been like this since the moment Blondie had touched my wrist—steely eyed, more short-tempered than usual, and so fucking hot I’d had to hide behind the booth more than once just to rearrange my dick.
The funny thing was, I hadn’t even intended for us to land here.
My inability to keep my hands to myself had started because I couldn’t not touch her.
Because every time I looked at her—flushed from the sun, her cheeks freckled and rosy, her full lips twitching in the way that said she was holding back a bark of laughter—made me want to wrap a hand around the back of her neck, tug her into me, and kiss the ever-loving shit out of her.
And then keep her. Right there, just like that.
That was how it started.
But once I’d seen Willa’s reaction to all those subtle touches—the hitches in her breath, the way she swayed slightly closer to me, then how much sharper her sass got when it was clear her body was wound too tight to think straight?
Well. Then it became a game I was all too willing to play.
She’d been simmering by midafternoon, surly by early evening, and downright seething by sundown. And now?
Now, she was stomping into the silo like a woman one breath away from combusting, and I was all too willing to light the match just to see how hot she burned.
Whistling, I strolled inside behind her, the rest of the crates stacked in my arms. After setting them down, I stretched my back and groaned, then headed to the sink and took my sweet-ass time washing my hands.
Meanwhile, she stormed around the kitchen like a pissed-off teenager—jerking drawers open, slamming cabinets, and scrubbing invisible stains off the countertop.
After drying my hands, I leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, and enjoyed the show.
My wife was about three minutes away from cracking. And I wasn’t just going to sit by and watch—I was going to make sure she shattered.
I pushed off the counter and stepped up behind her, my hands settling on the island to bracket her hips. Leaning down, I skimmed my nose up the column of her neck, then pressed a kiss below her ear.
“You good, wife?” I murmured, just loud enough to carry over the sound of her violently reorganizing the silverware drawer.
She stiffened her spine before slowly turning to glare at me over her shoulder. “Fine.”
I barely smothered a laugh at her curt response, but somehow I managed. “Really? You don’t seem fine.”
Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, and mouth pinched tight, she turned around and gave me the full force of her ire. “You’re mistaken. I’m great.”
She said great like most people would say dead.
“You sure?” I placed my hands on her hips and slipped my thumbs beneath the hem of her T-shirt, brushing soft circles against her skin. “You seem a little…tense.”
“And you seem like you’re three seconds away from being murdered.”
This time, I couldn’t stop the smile from sweeping across my mouth. She was so goddamn cute like this—all pissed off and horny. My demonic little ball of fury.
“It looks to me like you’re a bit worked up. Like maybe you’ve got some energy you need help…releasing.”
She opened her mouth—no doubt to toss back something scathing—before she snapped it closed and narrowed her eyes.
Not in a pissed-off way, but like she was studying me.
I could practically see her wheels turning, no doubt replaying the entire day, and then that pissed-off demeanor turned downright deadly.
“Oh, I see,” she said, her voice deceptively calm. “You wanted to play a game today. But it’ll have to wait because I’m late for a date in the shower with my battery-operated friend.”
That got my attention.
My grin dropped. My cock did not.
Images of her inside the tiny little shoebox made up of tile slammed into me, each one hotter than the last. Her, leaning back into the corner, one leg up on the ledge, while she held a silicone toy against her clit.
Then it flashed to her holding the detachable showerhead there instead.
In both fantasies, her head was tossed back, her tits full and pushed out like an offering, nipples tight and begging for my mouth as she got herself where she needed to go. While I was nowhere in sight.
No. Fuck no.
If she wanted to get off while we were married, I’d give her exactly what she needed.
“You’re not taking a shower,” I said, voice rough.
Willa huffed out an incredulous breath. “The hell I’m not. I’m taking one right now. And that’s not an invitation.”
She tried to slip around me, but I stepped into her path, one hand on her hip, holding her steady. “Lincoln…”
I leaned down until our mouths were just inches apart, meeting her gaze. “You can take a shower. After I’ve made you come.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
I settled my other hand around the base of her neck, gripping firmly. “If you need to get off while we’re married, you come to your husband. Not a toy. Not the showerhead. Me.”
Her nostrils flared as she clenched her jaw, shoving once against my chest. “You think you’re the patron saint of orgasms just because you got lucky once?”
My grin started slow and wicked as I recalled how she’d looked riding me straight into oblivion. “It wasn’t luck that made you go off, hellcat. It was focus and my dirty mouth that got you there.”
She muttered something that sounded a hell of a lot like jackass, but she didn’t back away.
“I’m dying to do it again. Been thinking about nothing but you coming apart on top of me.” I leaned down until my lips brushed her ear. “Now I wanna taste that pussy I’ve been dreaming about, wife. Wanna see if it’s as sweet as I think it is.”
I pulled back enough to catalog her features. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, her eyes dark. And her tits were heaving beneath her T-shirt like she couldn’t hold enough air in her lungs.
“What do you think, hellcat?”
“I think you’re infuriating,” she said, her words harsh but her voice weak.
“And I think you’re soaked. Bet if I slid my hand inside your panties, I’d find out just how much, wouldn’t I?” I tucked my fingers into the front of her waistband and tugged her close, reveling in the hitch of her breath. “Now the real question is, are you gonna let me do something about it?”
She stood frozen for a second…two…as she studied me. Trying to get a read on me. So I put every ounce of desire I had for her into my gaze as I stared right back, just fucking dying to have her again.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Do it. Eat me out and get it over with.”
I chuckled long and low. “Baby…that’s not what’s gonna happen.
I’m not going to eat your pussy to get it over with.
” I undid the button of her jeans and tugged down her zipper one notch at a time.
“I’m going to devour your cunt like it’s my last fucking meal and I’ve been waiting my whole life for a taste. ”
She gasped as I yanked down her shorts, dragging her panties along with them, before guiding her back until she had no choice but to collapse into the armchair.
Then I dropped to my knees, spread her thighs wide, and stared at the heaven between them like it was the only thing in the world worth praying to.
“Jesus Christ, look at you,” I managed through a tight throat, my voice scraped raw as I ran my thumb through her slit. “Dripping and desperate and fucking perfect.”
“Lincoln…” she whispered, shifting like she was uncomfortable with the attention. But she was going to have to get used to it.
Because from this moment on, I planned to worship at the altar of her cunt and do my daily devotionals on my knees.
“Shh…quiet now while I get to work.” I reached around, cupped her ample ass in my palms, and tugged her closer to the edge of the cushion. Then I leaned in, spreading her thighs wider with my shoulders, and watched as her pussy bloomed open for me.
“Don’t be a jackass,” she said, though her tone was breathy, and she gripped the arms of the chair like they were a lifeline.
“Jackass? Nah, wife. I’m about to be the happiest man on the planet when I finally get to lick up all this sweetness.”
I closed my eyes and ran my nose up the inside of her thigh, inhaling when I got close to all that pink. “Fuck, you smell good.”
I did the same to her other thigh, taking my time and working her up until her legs were quivering, her breaths coming out in sharp pants.
When I was poised above her pussy, my lips millimeters from her clit, I murmured, “Bet you taste even better…”
And then I couldn’t wait another second. No more warming up. No more holding myself back. She was already squirming, and I’d barely even touched her.
It was time to put us both out of our misery.
I licked one long path from her entrance to her clit, unable to stop the groan tearing from my throat. I was right—she did taste even better than she smelled, all sweet and tangy. She jerked against me, a gasp flying out like she hadn’t been expecting this, and that only made me hungrier.
“I know I’m the only one to make you come, wife. But am I the only one who’s tasted this sweet cunt?” I circled her entrance with my tongue before spearing it inside her, groaning when she clenched around me. “Tell me.”
“Yes,” she whispered, like she didn’t want to admit it. Like she was embarrassed by that fact.
Meanwhile, I was riding high like a fucking king and drunk on the taste of her.
“That’s fucking right,” I said, brushing her clit with my thumb. “I’m the only one who’s had his tongue inside your pussy. Only your husband knows how fucking good you taste.”
I dove in again, flattening my tongue as I licked her, slower this time. Dragging it up her slit and savoring the tremble in her thighs before latching on to her clit and sucking hard.
That was all it took for the thread holding Willa back to finally snap.
With a gasp, she shot her hands to my head, threading her fingers through my hair as she rode my face from below. Every shuddered breath was a confession, every oath of my name a claim, every moan a symphony I wanted to hear each night for the rest of my life.
“That’s what I love to hear. You, fucking begging for it. Only your husband knows the sounds you make when you come. Isn’t that right, wife?”
“God,” she choked out. “Fingers—Linc, please. I need—”
I dipped my fingers just barely inside her, not sinking them deep but giving her a taste. She groaned, hips rocking, pussy clenching around nothing.
“Look at you—so fucking greedy,” I said, voice thick.
I finally gave her what she was desperate for and sank two fingers deep, watching as her cunt swallowed them. Imagining exactly what this would look like with my cock stretching her wide.
“This pussy’s starving for me, isn’t she? She’s been wet for hours, and now she’s just begging to be filled. But I’m only going to give her a little taste tonight.”
I pumped my fingers inside Willa, curling them to hit that spot while I flicked my tongue against her clit. The moan she loosed shot straight to my cock, making me throb in my goddamn jeans. And fuck me, but I was in danger of blowing right there like a fucking teenager. Again.
“You’ve got me so hard, hellcat. So fucking hard.” I brushed my lower lip against her before tucking it into my mouth and dragging my stubble over her clit. “All from eating you out. From licking up everything you’re giving me. You taste so goddamn good.”
“What do I taste like?” she asked, cheeks ruddy, eyes heavy lidded, her lips parted as she stared down at me from my throne between her spread thighs.
I sank my two fingers deep then reached up and brushed them against her bottom lip. “Open for me.”
Instead of sassing back, she did as I asked, sucking my fingers into her mouth, her eyes locked with mine. She swirled her tongue around my digits, making my cock jerk. Then she moaned, her hips bucking like she didn’t know which one she needed more—my mouth or my cock.
“Told you, didn’t I? You taste like cinnamon and honey.” I dragged my tongue through her slit again. “All spicy sweet. So fucking good.”
She let my fingers go with a soft, wet gasp, her head tipping back as I licked her again, slower now—claiming every drop.
With my mouth against her, our eyes locked and my chin wet from her arousal, I murmured, “You taste like my wife.”
She whimpered, her hips rolling, her fingers tangled in my hair, and I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I tossed one of her legs over my shoulder, held her in place with an arm braced over her stomach, and devoured her.
I groaned against her with every sharp tug of her fingers in my hair, flicked my tongue harder when her thighs squeezed my head.
And when I felt her cunt start to flutter around my fingers, I didn’t fucking move.
Didn’t change my speed or my pressure or my direction.
I stayed right fucking there while she climbed the peak, her breath held, her entire body as tight as a guitar string.
At least until it snapped.
She choked out my name as she broke apart, her pussy squeezing my fingers, her clit pulsing against my tongue. And I savored every fucking drop. Knowing I was the first one who’d had the privilege of tasting her come.
The darkest, most secret parts of me wishing I’d be the only one.
I wanted to see if I could work her toward another orgasm, but before I could try, she pushed against my shoulders, her entire body convulsing when I ran my tongue across her swollen clit.
Multiples would have to wait for another night.
I sat back on my heels and let her look her fill, knowing the lower half of my face and my neck were wet from her.
Hell, I could feel her arousal soaking into the neckline of my T-shirt, and I wasn’t sure I was going to wash this before I wore it again.
I wanted to be able to smell her on me and remember her just like this—completely blissed out with her legs spread wide, staring up at me like I’d just given her the entire fucking world.
“I think I proved my point, wife.” I leaned forward until our lips brushed, letting her taste exactly how much she wanted me. “You need to get off while we’re married, you come to me, and I’ll handle it with pleasure. Every fucking time.”
I stood, adjusting my cock as it strained against my zipper, desperate to sink inside that gorgeous cunt while it was all flushed and swollen. “I’m gonna go take a shower and think about you crying out my name while your pussy flooded my mouth. See you in bed, wife.”