Racers of Royal Oaks （Excerpt） #2
He tipped her chin up with his free hand, never breaking her gaze, and God, she loved the way those tattooed fingers looked against her skin, loved how he contrasted her so perfectly with every touch.
Completed, you mean.
A dangerous thought, and one that had nothing to do with the way he was touching her now. Or maybe everything to do with it.
“I love to hear you beg,” he murmured darkly.
“When you whisper my name like you’re about to come, it makes my cock go hard as steel, Ellie.
It makes me imagine you bound and on your knees and desperate for me to touch you.
” He stroked that same thumb down the curve of her neck and Rochelle shuddered, the pleasure wracking through her body at even the gentlest of his touches. “Begging for me to make you come.”
She arched against him and he brought his hand down to her waist and pinned her against the wall with a touch that was a little too rough and a little too perfect.
“You want that, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. “You want something dark, something hard.” He nodded to the party going on just out of sight.
Oh God, the party.
“You want something that none of them can give you.”
The movement of his thumb from her waist to the hem of her dress was desperately, agonizingly slow, and Rochelle thought she might just die from the build-up of pressure in her belly and flint-hard desire blooming between her legs.
“Tell me something dark,” he whispered, “something you’ve never told anyone. And I’ll give you what you want.”
“Linc, please.” It was so hard to speak, so hard to think with the promises of his touch just out of reach.
He was only at the hem of her dress, but the movement of a few inches would send her body into overdrive.
All he had to do was slide his hand up her leg and stroke her where she so desperately ached for him, and she’d be off like a shot.
He stilled his hand. “What did you want to say that first night? When you were lying in bed with your cunt slick and your fingers stroking your clit and your fist in your mouth so you didn’t wake anyone when you came?
What did you want to say to me in the dark, Ellie? ” A single stroke. A tease. A promise.
“It’s…”
“It’s you,” he said quietly. “It’s the way I can make you come, the way I can fulfill your needs. It’s you, Ellie,” he repeated. “And it’s me.”
She nodded, because the pleasure and desperation were clouding her mind and making it impossible to think, but the words felt important in a whole new way, and she knew he meant them far beyond the moment of their coming together.
She knew, too, that she was safe with Linc, no matter that this dalliance would likely break her heart and make her ache in a whole new way when things came to an end.
But she didn’t care. Because right now it was only Linc and Ellie, and she was safe to be herself entirely. If only for a moment.
“I want to be tied up,” she whispered all on a breath. “I want to be tied up and told what to do. Told to get down on my knees or spread my legs or open my lips. I want… I want to be…used.”
He moved his fingers up her leg, each inch, each touch pushing her higher, making her breath hitch and her nipples tighten.
“You would look so pretty bound to my bed,” he growled in her ear as he teased the aching space between her spreading thighs. “I’d part your thighs and bury my face between your legs and make you come again and again until you were shaking and begging me to stop.”
“No…” She wasn’t even sure what she was saying no to, but Linc understood, understood the game they were playing and the trust implicit between them.
“No?” He stroked the trim of her silk panties oh-so-slowly.
“No, you don’t want to be bound?” Higher still, slowly and softly enough to drive her absolutely to the edge and leave her hanging there at his mercy.
“No, you don’t want to come?” So close, he was so close to her pussy now.
If she shifted half an inch, she’d finally get the relief she craved.
Only Linc had encroached onto her space in a way that only Linc could, and he was keeping her pinned to the wall with so much more than physical touch.
“No, you don’t deserve to come?”
She must have made some kind of sound, some desperate admission of desire when he said the words, because Linc’s eyes went somehow even darker, even more desperate, and she saw the building storm within them that signaled he was just as close to the end of his tether as she was.
“That’s it, isn’t it, Ellie?” he asked, and at that moment, he finally, blissfully, slid his fingers between her legs and stroked her soaked panties so fucking slowly she thought she might just pass out then and there. “You think you don’t deserve the pleasure I want to give you.”
She shook against him, aware that he was building to something, that he was pushing her to the point of absolutely no return, and that she was loving every fucking second of it.
“Why is that?” he asked. His finger hovered over her swollen clit, just there, just out of reach. Rochelle moaned and bucked, but Linc moved with her, as if he could anticipate her needs and movements and adapt. “Tell me and you’ll get your reward, sweet girl.”
“Because I’ve been bad.” The words felt like they came from someone else’s mouth. “Because I’ve been a bad girl and bad girls don’t get to come. Linc, please.”
He finally, finally, stroked her clit and the relief of pleasure burst through her like a shot.
She was so close, so fucking close to coming, and he wanted her thinking and conscious and making all kinds of confessions.
Of course, that was sort of the point, wasn’t it?
She certainly wouldn’t have spilled her dirtiest secrets if she wasn’t so entirely desperate for him.
“Tell me, Ellie. How have you been bad? You’ll get what you want if you can just be honest with me.” She got the feeling she’d get a whole lot more than that, but her world had narrowed down to the point where his hands bound her and his fingers stroked her and his dark words made her ache.
“I touched myself…” she managed. It had always been one of her darkest fantasies, to be caught stroking her pussy and to be punished for it.
And she had no doubt that Linc would deliver on the most pleasurable of punishments.
And because she knew what he was going to ask next, she said, “My pussy, Linc. I stroked my pussy and I came all over my hand.”
He did just that, stroking her clit and the slick fabric that separated his hand from her aching center.
“This pussy, Ellie?” And he dropped to his knees.
The idea of Linc between her legs had nearly been enough to set Rochelle off, so when he stroked his tongue along the outside of her slick panties, she almost exploded right then and there.
It was too much, far, far too much, overwhelming and impossible, and a tease of the type of pleasure she knew Linc would deliver again and again, as long as she let him.
Or as long as she didn’t…
The game they were playing held an undercurrent of danger below the surface.
Not because she didn’t trust him. Despite the directions their lives had taken them, she trusted that he would never hurt her.
Never on purpose. If she walked into the lion’s den with her heart in her hand and asked for mercy, she was doing it with both eyes wide open.
But this…the way he spoke to her, the way he had her wanting to confess those secret needs that she’d never allowed to see the light of day—that was dangerous.
That brought her closer to the edge of something she wouldn’t be able to come back from.
That made her want to dive in and let them both drown for the pleasure of it all.
And oh, the pleasure.
Linc gripped her hips with both hands, digging his large thumbs into her flesh with such a delicious bite that Rochelle had to ball her hands into fists until the curves of her polished nails burst pain and heat into her palms. And when that wasn’t enough, when Linc continued to tease and whisper touches, she had to shove her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out at the way he played her body.
“Linc, stop teasing… I can’t…” Except Rochelle was starting to understand that she could, and that if anyone knew the limits of just how far she could be pushed, it was this man.
“You can,” he said against her inner thigh, the sound muffled, but the words impossible to miss. “You can and you will. You do want to please me, right, Ellie?”
She nodded because it was so impossible to find the words that expressed all the ways she wanted to please him, all the ways she wanted to give herself over to this man in sacrifice and mercy.
Instead, she simply let her head fall back against the wall and leaned into the teasing, letting the build-up be a pleasure all its own, skating the cracking ice of her reserve until she was certain she would fall through.
And then Linc was pushing her panties to the side and there was no barrier between her pussy and his mouth this time. Rochelle had to stifle a scream at the insurmountable pleasure that burst through her entire body with just a single touch, then two, then three.
He licked slowly at first, as if savoring the taste of her, but when Rochelle gripped her legs around Linc’s neck, he released the reserve and control he’d been holding on to and in the next moment, he was devouring her, licking and sucking and biting with a wildness to him that made her desire ratchet and her toes curl in her expensive heels.
This, right here, this was what she craved above all else.
Wildness. Freedom. Chasing pleasure and darkness with abandon.
And Linc Archer was all those things and so much more.
He pushed her higher and teased her harder and left her with the innate sense that when all was said and done, she was going to be entirely wrung out, exhausted, and far more satisfied than she had ever been in her entire life.