Authors: Jenni Wilder
Tags: #romance, #hockey, #rich and famous, #love relationships, #passion and love
My heart clenched. He looked at me with such
hopeful yet sad eyes. I touched his face with my fingertips, and I
was overcome by how much this man seemed to care for me. Staying
the night seemed like a big step, even if we were going to behave
ourselves, but I could see how much Lincoln wanted me to stay and I
couldn’t deny him. Despite how I felt this morning, I didn’t want
to be anywhere else right now.
I nodded, and Lincoln smiled at me with
relief on his face. I knew he was content with just having me here
tonight, nothing more. He had promised to behave himself, but I
needed him to know I wanted him. I wished I had to words to tell
him how wonderful a person he was and how much I already cherished
him. I thought maybe I could show him. So I leaned in and kissed
him, pouring all my feelings for this man into the kiss. It was a
deep, passionate kiss. My arms wound around his neck and I pulled
my body as close to his as I could despite my awkward angle.
Lincoln kept his hands still, not wandering
this time. I was grateful he seemed to understand I didn’t want him
near my scars. Not yet. We continued to kiss, our tongues dancing
and sliding against together. I let out a whimper, and I could feel
Lincoln ball his hands into fists at my hips. I could tell he was
desperately trying not to touch me.
I sat up, breaking the kiss. I pushed against
his chest and moved my legs to straddle him and sat back down on
him. I leaned into him and kissed him again. I had never been so
clearly in control of our passion like this before and it was
obvious Lincoln was enjoying it. He moaned, and I felt his bulge
hardening under me. I rocked against it and felt tingles of
pleasure at my core.
Lincoln’s hands were still at my hips but
when I moved to rub against him again, he gripped my hips to stop
me. “Jillian… if you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to
behave myself.”
I looked at him with a naughty grin and
rocked against him again. He gave a small groan. “You can behave
yourself.” I kissed him on his neck and then whispered into his
ear, “That doesn’t mean I have to.”
His face looked torn. I could tell he was
conflicted. He didn’t want me to stop, but he didn’t want to push
me. It was only last night I had freaked out on him when he tried
to touch me.
“Baby…” he said before I covered his mouth
with mine. I kissed him deeply, and he gripped my hips tightly
while kissing me back. I rocked against him again and moaned into
his mouth. He felt so good against me. “Jillian…” he moaned my name
as he broke our kiss. I moved my mouth to his neck and began
kissing and sucking on his soft skin below his ear.
I let my hands drift down from around his
neck. I skimmed over his shirt and felt the outline of his chest
muscles. I drifted my hands farther down and slipped my fingers
under the waistband of his pajama pants, caressing the ridges of
his abdominal muscles. I moved my mouth back to kiss him and pushed
my tongue into his mouth.
I slipped my hand farther into his pajama
bottoms and felt the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft. He
automatically flexed his hips up toward me and moaned. I let my
fingertips linger over him, touching him lightly before clasping
him in my hand and gently stroking him up and down. I could hardly
believe the pleasure I got just from being able to please him.
He flexed his hips underneath me again as I
continued to stroke him. I pulled back to look at him, and he let
his head fall back against the couch and opened his eyes to meet my
gaze. He let out a jagged breath. I gave him another naughty smile
and stroked him again. He closed his eyes before I kissed him quick
on the mouth and removed my hands from his pants and stood up. He
looked at me with confusion until I dropped to my knees on the
floor in front of him. His eyes flew open wide as I settled between
his legs, running my hands up his thighs to his waistband. I began
pulling his pants down when Lincoln grabbed my hands and stopped
me. He looked down at me with a pained look on his face. “Jillian,
stop. You don’t have to…”
“I want to,” I told him and tried to pull my
hands free from his.
“Princess... “ He breathed, releasing my
hands and shifting his hips so I could remove the obstructing
clothing. His shaft stood hard and firm, free of obstacles and I
admired it as I grasped him and ran my hand up and down. He groaned
softly. I had never seen anything so arousing as Lincoln being
pleasured. I wanted him inside me, but for now, I would settle for
having him in my mouth.
I had never done this before, but I wanted
him to feel good. I looked up at him, and I lowered my head. I ran
my tongue from the bottom to the tip. He closed his eyes and
dropped his head back against the couch again with a loud groan. I
took the tip of him between my lips, and he flexed his hips,
encouraging me to take him in my mouth.
Concentrating on the gasps of pleasure that
Lincoln was making, I slowly took more of him into my mouth. I
sucked as I pulled back, and I heard him curse and groan.
Encouraged by his noises, I did it again. He thrust into my mouth
and placed a hand on the back of my head, fisting my hair. I didn’t
feel like he was holding my head down, but I took it as an
indication of his loss of control and surrendering to his pleasure.
“Oh God, Jillian. That feels amazing.”
I bobbed my head in his lap repeatedly,
concentrating solely on giving him the most pleasure I could until
he attempted to push me away. “Jillian… stop… I’m going to…” he
managed to stutter. But I wasn’t going to stop now. I took his
hard, thick shaft as deep as I could.
He gasped and pushed uncontrollably into my
mouth as he called out my name. I heard him grunt gutturally a
second before feeling him explode in the back of my throat. I
sucked and swallowed repeatedly, feeling all the tension release
from his body.
He let go of my hair, and I pulled away from
him, sitting back on my feet. His eyes were closed, his head back.
He was breathing heavy, and his arms were out to the sides, palms
up. He looked utterly spent, and I smiled to myself. I loved that I
was able to give him that much pleasure. I loved that I could make
him happy. I loved that he cared for me, and I wanted to return
those feelings to him. A worry crept into my mind once again,
telling me it was too soon to have these feelings for him, but I
pushed it aside and tried to enjoy this moment.
I stood up and sat next to Lincoln’s
semiconscious body on the couch, still smiling to myself. He opened
one eye and looked at me. “That was incredible. I don’t think I can
move,” he said. I giggled and felt proud of myself.
Despite what he just said, Lincoln reached
down and pulled his pajama pants back into place before grabbing my
arm and pulling me up next to him. I cuddled against his chest. He
rubbed my back and asked, “Have you ever done that before?” I
blushed and shook my head and attempted to hide my face against his
chest. “No? Mm… well, that makes it even better.” He moved quickly
and leaned me back against the couch until he was lying down on top
of me, holding his weight on his forearms. He rubbed his nose
against mine and asked, “Shall I repay the favor?”
He didn’t give me time to answer. He covered
my mouth with his and kissed me deeply. Our tongues teased and
caressed, and I moaned. My body melted against his and I felt
desire pool in my stomach.
Lincoln moved his mouth to my neck and I
gasped as he kissed and licked me. He found a sensitive spot on my
neck, and when he brushed it with his tongue, my insides quivered.
“Mm… Lincoln, that feels so good.”
He moved a hand down to cup one of my
breasts, and I gasped again as he rubbed my nipple through my shirt
and bra. He was sending shocks of pleasure straight down to my
core. He moved his mouth up to my ear. “Let me make you feel good,”
he whispered and gently squeezed my hard nipple before moving his
hand to my waistband.
I clamped my hand around his wrist that was
so close to my scars and pushed away from him. Ice-cold fear pushed
any feelings of warm desire from me.
“Please don’t. Please stop,” I said
frantically, and immediately Lincoln sat up and retreated to the
opposite side of the couch.
I tugged at my shirt, pulling it down, even
though nothing was exposed. I remained on my back and threw an arm
over my face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I repeated to him with my
face hiding in the crook of my elbow. I was so embarrassed.
“Please don’t apologize, baby,” Lincoln said
from across the couch.
I didn’t move.
“Please look at me,” he begged.
I took a calming breath and sat up sideways
on the couch, crossing my legs under me. I slowly lifted my eyes to
meet his and found him looking at me with concern.
“Don’t leave,” he pleaded.
I shook my head. “I’m not. I won’t. I
just…panicked for a second.”
He slid down the couch, closer to me,
watching with cautious eyes as if I might bolt at any second. “Can
you tell me why?” He placed his hand on my knee and gave it a
squeeze.
I looked down and thought for a moment. I
didn’t know how to phrase my excuse in a way that didn’t make me
sound pathetic. “Lincoln,” I began and then stopped to clear my
throat. “The last people to see my scars were Mackenzie and the
bitches that helped her. And for weeks after their stunt, everyone
on campus laughed at me and called me a freak show. I’m not proud
of my scars. I would give anything to not have them. Then I could
be normal and complete. I know you think they don’t matter; you
think they won’t affect you. But to me they are embarrassing and
ugly, and it terrifies me to think about you seeing them.” I hung
my head in my hands and I felt him massage my knee.
We were both quiet for a long while. I
thought he must have been feeling helpless. I cleared my throat
again and dropped my hands. “After the fire and after freshman
year, I talked with a therapist. I’d stopped going the past few
years, but I’m going to call him on Monday and see if I can talk to
him again.”
“Can I go with you?” Lincoln asked without
even pausing. I looked at him with surprise. “I want to know what
you’re thinking and feeling. I want to know how to help you.” He
rubbed my knee again.
“You’ve already done so much, Lincoln.”
“I want to do more. I want you to trust
me.”
“Oh, I do trust you. I just... “ I paused.
“These are my issues. Since I was ten years old, I’ve had to deal
with how I look in the mirror. That’s a lot of years of negativity
and self-doubt. And while you’ve been amazing—like seriously
amazing, Lincoln—this is just something I will always struggle
with. You can come to therapy if you want, but you might not like
what you hear.”
Lincoln grabbed my hands and pulled me
against his chest before wrapping his arms around me. “I will do
whatever it takes to make you realize you are my beautiful
princess. I would like to go to therapy with you, if you feel
comfortable with that.”
I nodded against his chest and silently
wished for strength. Strength to go to therapy with Lincoln.
Strength to be able to trust myself. And strength that, someday, I
would be comfortable in my own skin. I had something to fight for
now. I wanted to be strong for Lincoln. He deserved it.
Chapter Fifteen
When I woke up the next morning, Lincoln was
sitting on his bed, leaning over me. He was dressed in a suit and
tie and looked delectable. I immediately sat up, confused and
panicky. “Shh…. shh… go back to sleep,” Lincoln said, putting his
hand on my shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly.
I had spent the night. After my freak-out on
the couch, Lincoln and I cuddled and talked more. Not about my
scars or my messed-up issues of self-doubt. We talked about our
childhoods and fun times with our siblings. We talked about trips
we had taken as kids and places we wanted to go. I was feeling even
more smitten by this man. Our personalities meshed so well
together, and by the end of the night Lincoln had me crying with
laughter over a story involving a family vacation at a hunting
resort and a stuffed moose scaring Carter so badly he refused to go
in the lodge.
When it finally came time for bed, Lincoln
made no hesitation when I crawled into his bed. He immediately
wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him, tangling our
legs together. We kissed briefly before saying good-night and the
last thing I heard was Lincoln whispering to me how glad he was
that I stayed. I fell asleep feeling happy and completely
contented.
“What time is it?” I asked Lincoln when he
woke me. I subconsciously checked my clothing, making sure my scars
were covered. It wasn’t an action I thought about. It was so
engrained in me to hide my scars it had become involuntary.
“Shh… it’s early. I have to go, but you
should go back to sleep.” Despite being freshly showered and
shaved, Lincoln looked utterly exhausted. My heart clenched again
as he pushed my hair back from my face. He was braving an early
morning for me—his least favorite thing.
“Oh. No. I should get up. You have to take me
home,” I argued and began pushing the covers back.
Lincoln grabbed my hands. “Stop. I want you
to go back to sleep.” I looked at him with confusion. If I went
back to sleep now and he left, I would be stuck at his house. I
didn’t have my car here, and even if I called Rebecca to pick me
up, Lincoln’s house was so hidden in the woods I was sure I
wouldn’t be able to give my sister directions. “Go back to sleep,”
Lincoln said. “And when you wake up and want to go home, call
Kennedy. She’ll come get you.”
My heart softened as Lincoln’s concern for me
became obvious. “Oh, Lincoln. She doesn’t have to do that. I can go
now. Besides I don’t have her number.”