Chapter 23
Jealousy is not an emotion I’m supposed to be feeling at this late stage of the game. Unfortunately, I do. As mad as I am at Lincoln, it also bothers me being away from him. Honestly, everything we did together made me really horny, and I was thinking about it the entire day.
What’s the best way I can get back at him?
Drag out the torment a bit longer.
He said he didn’t come.
Do I believe him?
Probably.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have felt the need to even share that lovely story in the first place. And maybe it is a step in the right direction, to God knows what, if he’s willing to be honest.
But it doesn’t matter. If he's honest because he shouldn’t have gone over there in the first place.
Then I catch myself wondering why that is.
He’s right. We’re not in a relationship. And because we’re not in a relationship, I need to get my feelings under control.
Best way to do that, is to be in control.
Stripping off my pants, I leave myself in just my nice underwear; a beautiful white lacy design that leaves very little to the imagination. At the cup of it, right where my crotch sits, it’s sheer. With it being a little wet, it’s practically see-through, contrasting against my skin beautifully.
I stretch out prone on the bed, the bedsheets ruffled underneath me, and then call out loudly for Lincoln.
No answer.
“Lincoln! Link!” I call again, louder, until I hear the telltale angry footsteps heading toward my closed door.
This is going to be great.
Smiling, I keep my focus on my phone. I’m not facing the door, so when he comes in, the first thing he’ll be greeted with is my ass, my pretty panties, and my legs stretched out.
The door bursts open in a huff, and Lincoln opens his mouth to unleash whatever tirade he had brewing, but it dies in his throat, probably because he notices exactly what I hoped he would.
Lucky for me, my back's to him, hiding the grin splitting my face as I fight back a giggle.
“What… what do you want?” he says, a little softer, still with that undertone of fury.
“I was wondering if you could give me a massage.”
I don’t dare turn around because I’ll burst out laughing. Then comes the dip of the mattress as he drops to his knees behind me, one at a time, the bed creaking under his weight.
Lincoln positions himself between my outstretched legs and just kneels there, not doing anything.
“Please?” I coo.
I’m not apologizing. Like he loves to say, I did nothing wrong. This is kind of my reward, getting to toy with him like this.
Lincoln draws in a slow, ragged breath, then exhales it in a sharp burst of exasperation before laying his palms flat against the backs of my thighs. The instant warmth from his hands makes my pussy feel even wetter.
Propped up on my elbows, I set my phone aside and press the right side of my cheek into the sheets, eyelids fluttering shut as I melt into the sensation of my ex-husband's fingers gliding along the curve of my calves, then higher, claiming the swell of my ass.
He starts kneading my butt cheeks tantalizingly. It feels so good. No one ever rubs those muscles, and it’s not like it’s the kind of muscle group a person can massage on their own.
And on top of that, you can’t ask some random stranger, or even a friend, to massage your ass. This is something that’s only designated for couples. Something I have to remind myself I’m no longer allowed to claim with Lincoln.
But fuck it.
I can tell it's getting to him because he keeps sighing under his breath. I can feel his erection too, pressing against me every time he leans in over my hips. As he works his way upward to my spine, his thumbs zero in on the tight bands of muscle along my back.
This bliss drags on for a solid ten minutes, and it’s hilarious that with every pleasurable moan slipping out of me, Lincoln answers in kind with these soft, defeated whimpers he can't quite stifle.
“That feels really good,” I whisper.
“Mmm. Go—okay. I-I’m happy. I’m glad it does,” he murmurs very quietly, like his words have to fight through quicksand to escape his throat.
I squirm under him, smiling in pure serenity. Lincoln’s hands slide up to my shoulders… and then he flips me gracefully onto my back.
My eyes open instantly, drawn to him hovering above me. Now I feel helpless too. His beautiful brown eyes are locked on mine. He’s not smiling, and honestly, he still looks pissed, but something else is bleeding through the tension.
Hunger.
His hands, those majestic hands with zero shyness left in them, slide up beneath the hem of my shirt until they’re palming my naked breasts.
Both his thumbs flick back and forth over my hard nipples, the telltale giveaway that I’m enjoying this as much as he is.
His face looks so intense. That beautiful, chiseled face of his. Whenever he looks stoic like this, I can’t help but to start producing more moisture for him.
The caress meanders from my hips to my arms, then up toward my triceps before circling back down to my chest, his hands finally cupping my breasts.
Those slow, rhythmic squeezes coax my eyes shut, my lips parting on a soft gasp as my back arches, my body instinctively reaching for more.
The press of his swollen penis, constrained behind the barrier of his boxers and pants, drives me insane, and as if he can read my mind, Lincoln breathes in deep before hooking his finger down the front of his waistband, giving his penis and balls access to the air.
My shirt is pulled up, my belly exposed, and my panties pushed just enough that the crotch, already extremely wet, is on display without shame.
Lincoln’s focus pivots downward toward his cock as he aligns the head flush against my vagina, pulling the crotch of my panties to the side.
I can feel how wet I am by how easily he glides over me, his frenulum caressing my clitoris in an enticing, deliberate courtship display.
He lets the crotch of my panties snap back into position over his cock, nestling it firm and captured right against my clit, as if our most intimate bits were tucked together beneath a warm, shared quilt.
Having secured his cock in place, his eyes find mine, holding my gaze captive as he straightens his arms, palms planted on either side of my head, as he braces himself above me.
His pelvis is flush with mine when he starts to hump gently, the frenulum of his hard cock sliding back and forth over my sensitive clitoris.
When I become hypersensitive, my mouth falls open and a yelping moan escapes my lips. My arms fall out to my sides, just taking the feeling in.
It’s a great massage, feeling his dick against me like this, and wanting him inside so badly, but he’s not going in.
Opening my eyes, I focus on Lincoln’s face, and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to come. I can feel how hard his dick is, how much he wants this. His eyes keep fluttering, going glassy as they lose focus. His whole body shakes for a moment, the tremor of an impending climax.
“No Lincoln,” I whisper.
“Mm,” he breathes, his arms shaking from holding himself up under the strain of trying not to come.
Seeing him like this, his hair resting across his forehead, those beautiful eyes locked onto mine, his lips pulled tight as he tries to maintain control while his cock slides over me, I can feel every vein, and it’s all too… overwhelming.
My breaths splinter into sharp gasps, my chest rising and falling as my orgasm shatters through the barrier that was holding it back, forcing a scream of pleasure out of me.
My hips buck against him, making his penis slide and press against me even harder.
Lincoln releases a groan of his own, his breathing quickening, his eyes closing, his mouth falling open as he continues to hump against my drenched folds.
My left hand shoots up to slap him across the face, but he catches my wrist… with his eyes closed.
How the hell?
Before I can process it, his right hand darts up to seize my other one, instinctive as breathing, pinning both in an iron hold.
With both of my wrists trapped in his grip, I’m helpless on my back, still hypersensitive from my orgasm carving its road of smoldering relief through me.
That feral look in Lincoln’s eyes intensifies as he throws his hips back, lining his penis up with the entrance of my vagina, then he slams his dick inside me.
“UGH! L-LINK!” I cry out, overwhelmed by pleasure.
I’d completely forgotten how much I needed this… needed to feel him inside me, filling me, stretching me.
But wait… we’re not supposed to…
But…
I’m helpless to the sensation of my pussy getting packed. Each time the tip of his cock slams against my cervix, the sudden pinch slowly transforms into a surge of arousal so intense I can barely think.
Another orgasm starts to charge upward, and as he pounds in and out of me, over and over and over, I break again, a small orgasm fluttering through me as I cry and whimper.
Lincoln bites his bottom lip, his hips snapping faster, his cock becoming a rigid pole as he approaches the edge.
“Lincoln don't,” I plead, but he’s still gripping both my wrists, stronger than me, and if he wants to come inside me right now, there’s little I can do to stop it. But I’m staying true to my word.
If he does this, I’m going to leave. If I don’t make him believe my word holds weight, he’ll never respect me.
“Lincoln,” I start again, but I decide not to say anything. Let him hang himself.
His thrusts turn frenzied. Deeper, more desperate and faster, right to the edge.
His lashes tremble, teeth grinding into his lower lip until it blanches, a primal snarl tearing from his chest before he plunges in one final, shattering time, rooting himself flush against the entrance of my cervix. Pain and pleasure strike all at once, before he suddenly pulls out.
His red, throbbing cock twitches in agony as he remains braced above me, holding himself as still as possible.