Chapter 40
Imogen
I decided to take a long soak in the bath this afternoon, another luxury I’ve found I really enjoy, especially with the decadent
bubble bath Lincoln found for me. When I’ve soaked long enough that my skin is wrinkled like a prune, I find Lincoln in my
bedroom waiting for me. He’s already dressed in the black cargo pants and tight black tee he always wears when he leaves on
one of his expeditions, and he’s sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. The huge antique mirror has been turned so
it’s facing him, which is odd as he doesn’t usually like looking at himself. I also spy a black velvet-covered box on the
floor beside him that piques my curiosity. He grabs the pillow from behind his back and places it between his spread thighs.
Then he pats it. “Come sit here, angel.”
I do as he asks, excitement fluttering low in my belly.
He takes off my towel and hooks my legs over his own, spreading them wide while he drapes my damp hair over my shoulder. The
two of us are reflected in the antique mirror and I marvel at how small my body looks against his and how my olive skin is
pale against his midnight-black clothes. He rests his lips against my ear. “I have a gift for you.”
“A gift?” More excitement. I can’t recall the last time anyone ever gave me a gift for no reason before I arrived here and now this is my third in two months. More if I count the new bubble bath and the Milky Ways.
Lincoln hums, warm breath dancing over my skin and making goose bumps break out over my flesh. “Yes, but before I show you
your gift, I want to teach you a little about this beautiful body.” He spreads my legs wider with his own. “So you’re going
to watch in the mirror while I play with your sweet cunt, and we’re both going to learn a little more about exactly what you
like.” Taking my hands, he places them behind my back and then wraps one arm around my waist.
Then he glides the pads of his fingers between my folds and spreads them open. It feels wicked and dirty to look at myself
this way, and to enjoy watching his expert fingers manipulating my flesh, but I’m too transfixed to look away. “Look at this
pretty pink pussy. Already wet for me.”
“Linc,” I whimper, watching every move he makes in the mirror, excitement shuttling through my veins.
“I know, baby.” He circles his fingers, concentrating on the swollen bud of flesh. “You already know this is your clitoris,
yes?”
I gasp, pleasure already coiling deep in my core. “Yeah.”
I go on watching him in the mirror, hands moving methodically and skillfully over my sensitive center. “Did you also know
it’s not just this part here you can see, the nerve endings run deep, and even here . . .” He swirls a fingertip nearer to
my entrance. “This is all part of your clit, baby. And you’re particularly sensitive right here.” He presses gently on a spot
that makes my back arch in pleasure.
“Oh, god.”
“Not god, angel. Say my name.”
“Lincoln,” I whine, writhing against his fingers as much as I can while he holds me firmly in place.
“I want you to touch yourself while I’m away. Discover all the places that make you purr like that. Find out what it is that brings you the most pleasure.”
“You,” I gasp. “The way you touch me brings me the most pleasure.”
He smiles against my neck. “That makes me so fucking happy, baby, and you’re such a good girl for me. So watch my hands.”
One of his thick fingers slides inside me, making wetness rush between my thighs and warmth pool in my core. “And right here,”
he says, pressing firmly against a spot deep inside me and I almost climax right here and now. “This is your G-spot. But if
you’re fingers aren’t long enough to find it, I got you a gift to help.”
Oh, yes! The gift.
He opens the box beside us, the clasp making a soft click before he takes something out. In the reflection I can tell it’s
a glass object. Phallic-shaped with a golf ball–sized orb at the base and ridges in the shaft. He holds it up for me to see
more clearly.
“What is it?” I whisper, my cheeks flushing with heat.
“It’s a dildo. I want you to use it while I’m away. I want you to slide it inside yourself and pretend it’s my fingers in
your juicy little cunt.”
I gasp in a breath as a wave of intense euphoria washes over me. The crude way he talks coupled with the way he’s still teasing
my G-spot has me trembling all over and on the edge of collapse. Before I crumble, he pulls his finger out of me and I watch
in the mirror as he places it in his mouth and sucks it clean, making satisfied humming sounds while he does.
My attention is drawn to the dildo again. It’s smaller than him, but it’s still bigger than my fingers, and it’s glass. Glass
can break. Glass can cut. “Is it safe?”
“Yes, perfectly safe. I would never ask you to do anything that might harm you. I bought you some lube too. Be sure to use
plenty of it if you’re not wet enough.”
“Do we need some now, sir?”
He laughs darkly and pulls my thighs even wider apart. “Look at yourself, baby. You’re fucking soaked for me. You see that sweet creamy cum already dripping out of you?”
I do see, a pearl of white seeping from my entrance. Evidence of how much my body enjoys this, even if my conditioning sometimes
tries to tell me that I shouldn’t. I focus on my body, and on the pleasurable sensations swirling inside me. “Yeah.”
He notches the head of the toy at my entrance. “So we won’t be needing any lube. If you can take my fingers and my cock, you
can take this.” Then he pushes it inside me, and I gasp at the foreign sensation of the glass—cold and rigid. So different
to the comforting heat of Lincoln. He sinks it all the way in, keeping a firm grip on the base and pleasure rockets up my
spine. “Are you going to think of me when you use this on yourself?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Will you think of me every time you make yourself come?”
“Yes!”
“Tell me what you’re going to play with while I’m gone.”
I stare at his reflection in the mirror, confused as to what exactly he’s referring to.
He growls in my ear. “I want to hear you say the word, angel. What am I fucking right now?” He drives the dildo in deeper.
A blush creeps across my cheeks. “My p-pussy, sir.”
He smiles at me in the mirror. “That’s my good fucking girl.”
“Linc!” I throw my head back.
“Eyes on me, baby. Watch me fuck you with your new toy.”
I drag my eyes to the mirror and the sight of him working the glass dildo inside my pussy. The powerful muscles in his forearm
flexing with each stroke, his free hand pressing down on my abdomen and the look of pure desire on his face, have me unraveling.
It’s erotic and beautiful and filthy all at the same time.
I cry out, ecstasy taking me under its heavy wave, pulling me under. Until Lincoln sinks his teeth into my neck, bringing me back to him. His hard length digs into my back and I rub myself against it, making him mutter a string of curses.
He begins rubbing my clit while driving the dildo inside me, deeper and harder each time. Until I’m on the edge once more,
begging him to stop yet pleading with him to continue. It’s the most delicious kind of torture there is, and watching it all
unfold only makes it more special, more intense.
“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, Imogen. And you look like fucking heaven when you come for me. So give
me one more, baby. Give me a memory I can jerk off to when I’m not here with you.”
My back bows. A cry is ripped from my chest. White-hot euphoria snakes through every vein and sinew of my body, until I’m
sagging against him.
Gently, he slides the toy out of me and places it on the floor beside us. I meet his eyes in the mirror and smile. “Thank
you for my gift, sir.”
“You’re welcome. I’m going to enjoy thinking about you using it, and then hearing all about it when I get back.”
A wave of sadness washes over me. “When do you have to leave?”
He runs his nose up the back of my neck. “Soon, baby.”
I wiggle my ass against his hard length. “I do love my gift, sir. But I’ll miss the real thing.”
He laughs once more. “My greedy little angel. Do you want my cock?”
“Yes please.” More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life before.
He growls and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “Turn around.”
I do as he asks while he unzips his pants and frees his huge cock. He fists it in his hand and I involuntarily lick my lips
at the sight of the precum on the tip. He shakes his head. “Not your mouth today, baby. Slide yourself onto me.”
With my hands on his powerful shoulders, I sink down onto his length, letting him fill me up completely.
I smirk when his eyes roll back a little, enjoying the powerful feeling it gives me.
He’s so strong and fearsome in his black camo gear, but right now, I can unravel him with the right sway of my hips, or a squeeze of my inner walls.
“Fuck! That feels so fucking good.”
It does feel good. Better than his fingers or the toy. It’s incredible. I roll my hips over him, working him into a frenzy,
until he grabs me and takes control, holding me still while he drives inside me over and over again. I see stars. He grunts
out my name, and then his hips still as he climaxes, filling me with his release.
He pulls me close, pressing our foreheads together. “I have another gift for you.” He pants for breath.
“Another?”
He hums in reply, then reaches for the black box again, flipping it open to reveal three cone-shaped metallic objects, each
with a large round base set with a brightly colored jewel. There are three different sizes—ranging from the size of an egg
to the size of a small apple. My eyes widen. They’re so pretty. “What are those?”
His eyes darken and he brushes my hair back from my face. “They’re butt plugs.”
“Butt plugs. Like for your ass?”
He shakes his head, a devilish grin on his face. “No, for your ass.” His tone is dark and serious, and laced with a little of the danger that makes me shiver. He takes the smallest one
out of the box. “You’ll definitely need lube for these.”
“What are they for?” I whisper.
“They’re to prepare your virgin ass for my cock. When you can take the biggest one comfortably, then I know I’ll be able to
fuck you as hard as I want to.”
I take the plug from his hands and examine it closely. “I’m not sure this one will even fit.”
He grins. “It will. I’d like you to wear them as much as possible while I’m away. Don’t worry if you can only manage the small one for a while. I can wait.”
I’m not sure I want him to wait. I want to be whatever he needs right now. And I’m even less certain about the plugs. As pretty
as they are, the idea of walking around the house with one in feels naughty in a way I never anticipated. “Do I really need
to use them, sir? Couldn’t you just try anyway?”
“No. I know you enjoy it when I’m a little rough with you, but I won’t be able to do that when I fuck your ass for the first
time. And if you’re not prepared properly, I could hurt you, and I would fucking hate myself for that.” He takes the plug
from between my fingertips. “So, will you try for me?”
I furrow my brow for a moment and nod. “Can you show me how to use one?”
His eyes flash with wicked intent. “Bend over my lap.”
I climb off him and lie over his lap, my ass in the air and my face on the carpet. He tells me how sexy and incredible I am
while he coats the smallest plug with a generous amount of lube from a squeeze tube that was also in the black box.
“Breathe, Imogen. I won’t hurt you, okay? But tell me if it’s too much.”
I take a deep breath and he pushes the pointed tip of the plug at the entrance of my ass. Instinct makes me want to shuffle
forward and away from the intrusion, but I remain in place, wanting to do this right for him.
“You’re doing so well. You’re such a good girl for me.”
I lap up his praise, my entire body practically purring with contentment as he pushes the plug deeper. It feels strange. So
very full. But I don’t dislike it.
“Almost there, angel,” he soothes, pushing deeper.
The stretch burns but I take another deep breath and the burning sensation stops.
Leaving me with a deep ache in my core. The kind that I’ve come to love and the kind that makes my panties wet.
I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to wear a plug without him here to relieve me.
He glides his hands over my ass. “How does that feel.”
“Kind of nice actually.”
He smiles. A real, genuine smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You truly are my perfect little angel.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He pulls me to straddle him again, sliding his arms around my waist. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you.”
“I wish that too, sir.”
He dusts his lips over mine. “I’ll be back Sunday evening.”
That’s four nights without him. I let my mask slip for a moment, let him see the sadness in my eyes before I pull it back
up, back to where it’s comfortable. I was taught that emotions are weakness, but he’s made me realize that they’re not. They’re
beautiful and messy and wondrous and life-affirming. But old habits die hard.