The One Who Got Away (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (12 page)

We faced off, me with trembling fingers still on his belt buckle, the slick, hard metal making my breath come in stutters. It reminded me of handcuffs. Of spankings. He glared at me with some mixture of ‘How dare you, you naughty little sub’ and ‘Please God, don’t stop.’

So I didn’t. I slipped my fingers to the zipper and drew it downward, gulping when I bristled against his hardening cock. I remembered the first time I realized that he was literally the perfect male specimen: good looks, a strong personality, and a thick cock that, in another life, would have made him a killing if he ventured into porn. Luckily for me, every bulging, delicious inch was all mine.

Emboldened, I reached my hand inside his fly and let out a hiss of air when I realized that in the very near future, it would be deep inside me. Stretching me. Claiming me.

I must have been in a daze because he drew me closer and let my hand remain wrapped around him. His lips brushed my ear lobe, his tongue grazing the tender skin.

“It’s been quite awhile, Cat, so I’ll give you ten seconds until I remind you just who’s in charge here.”

My eyes bulged like Christmas and I squeezed his shaft, earning a deep moan of approval...and condemnation. He liked it rough, but he also liked it when I played submissive and everything, every action, required his express approval.

“Really?”

“Ten,” he answered with a cocky smile. A challenge.

That just turned my smile wicked. Clearly,
he’d
forgotten who was really in charge. Sure, I asked for permission, but without the gift of being his, of allowing him to wield control over me, there was no game. Plus, he liked it when I was a little disobedient, that way my punishment was swift, severe, and sexy as hell.

I guess I better make the most of it, then.

“Eight,” he uttered, the words thick and hot. “Sev-what the-?”

I answered his question with my mouth. I held the base of his cock with one hand, then lowered my rounded lips around his mushroom tip. I knew he was fighting to not reward me by moaning. There would be no ‘Good job, Cat!’ when I was flagrantly disregarding the rules, but not even Lincoln Carraway in all his controlled, guarded facade could stop me from feeling just how much he enjoyed my mouth. His body sighed his approval.

I spun my tongue around the head of him, moaning loudly enough for the both of us when I tasted proof that his body was a big fan of my headstrong streak. Pre-come coated my taste buds, warm and salty and wanton.

I knew that ten seconds had come and gone because I was counting to myself, counting in time with the sweeps of my tongue. Dashing down the shaft, lingering on that bulging vein that pulsed beneath his flesh, angry and engorged. I took his entire length in my mouth, surprising us both. I hadn’t been with anyone that was both thick and long like Linc, but I devoured every inch.

I grasped his balls, squeezing and tugging them the way I knew he liked, or that he liked once upon a time, anyway. Want sparked all over me like tiny supernovas when I realized that he was still a fan. No tender touches for me and my lover. No sweet nothings whispered in the middle of the night. Even before we realized there was a name for how we liked to play, dominating and submitting, we liked to push buttons. To dole out equal measures of pain and pleasure.

Just when I picked up the pace, ready to gag on him until he exploded in my mouth, he fisted my gold and brown strands and held me hostage, tongue grazing the underside of his erection.

“Time’s up, Cat.” His hold was military-like steady, quite impressive considering the current state of affairs. I stole a lick or three and he yanked my hair, wrenching a grunt of pain from my lips. I glanced up at him, tears stabbing my eyes from the labored breathing and the explosion of pinpricks across my scalp. Those three licks would cost me.

He loosened his grip slightly, just enough that I didn’t feel like he was about to remove a chunk of hair from my head, but he still held me hostage to his touch. To whatever tickled his fancy. From that twisted little grin that stroked his lips, I was in big trouble.

“How many seconds did I give you, Catherine?”

Uh oh. And not just because he used my full name. I thought he was lost in passion. Apparently, not so much so that he didn’t realize that I’d stretched ten seconds into a minute. At least.

To make matters, and the throb in my pussy, worse, he took his other hand and cupped my cheek. Sweet and fierce, just the way I liked it.

“I’m waiting, Catherine.”

A lie would make my punishment more severe, so I settled for, “I...Lincoln...er...”

“I stopped counting at twenty five.”

I knew I’d sucked him for much longer, but I wasn’t going to correct him, especially if an equivalent spanking was up his sleeve. So I just blinked up at him and managed a nod. “I’m sorry.”

The hand cupping my cheek balled into a fist and he dragged his knuckles across my chin, letting out a grunt of disbelief. “No, you’re not.”

He let go of my hair and stepped backward. I fell forward, catching myself with my palms.

“Take off your dress and lay on the bed,” he said sternly.

I scrambled to my feet, my body humming with excitement as I pulled down the straps of the dress and realized he was undressing, too.

Lincoln turned a simple, every day occurrence into my own private show. Fingers released buttons, muscles flexing in the waning light that filtered in from the windows. When he stood beside the bed, hair spilling into his eyes before he swept a hand through the dark strands and tucked it behind his ears, I nearly came on the spot. He was desire in the flesh, his body better than any dream. Men weren’t supposed to look like he looked in real life, without a drop of body fat. Muscled and toned from head to toe. It took me years to grow into my lean limbs and every day, week, month, and year had just cemented the fact that Lincoln Carraway deserved ‘Sexiest Man Alive, Period’ permanently.

And he wanted me.

Needed me.

Loved me.

Though, at the moment, he was pretty annoyed at me. He was lording control over his cock, despite the fact that he was so hard he could smash through several planks of wood. His eyes were gray and glacial, because my dress had only gotten as far as my hips when I started gawking at him in wide-eyed awe.

“Sorry,” I hissed, shimmying out of it the rest of the way and letting the dark material pool at my feet.

“Not yet,” he said darkly, beckoning me with a finger. “But just you wait.”

Human nature made me tremble wildly as I moved across the room to the bed, the covers untouched, white and as pure as the undriven snow. I had a feeling we were about to tarnish them with all kinds of sins.

Thrill and anticipation flew out the window when I reached the side of the bed and realized that I was just as naked, just as on display as he was. I ducked my chin, warmth scalding my cheeks and spreading to the swell of my breasts. The blush transformed me from the bold little tease a few moments ago to the submissive who was completely and utterly at his mercy.

I leaned into his touch when his fingers curled around my chin and his thumb lifted my eyes from the floor to him. I shouldn’t feel so safe, so free when his gaze was mad with lust, but I knew that this man would never truly hurt me. And there was my stupid heart that whispered,
And he’ll never leave you again.

“Lay down, Cat.”

I couldn’t help but smile when my name lost a few letters. I was back in his good graces.

“On your back, knees bent and spread wide so I can see you.”

I bit my lips as I slid onto the bed. The sheets were just right against my heated flesh. Cool, soft, caressing me as I obeyed. Showed him the world that lay between my thighs. Like some erotic flower, my pussy sighed as I dropped my head against the pillow and showed him all.

I shivered as a single finger drew a line from my ankle to my knee. I lifted my head, wanting to watch him tease me instead of just feel it, to watch him as he made me beg for it. One glare from him and I put my head back where it belonged. My little act from earlier? It was about me. This? It was about me showing him that I still knew how to submit.

His finger ventured inside my thigh, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip when one finger became five. His other hand joined the first. He was stroking both thighs simultaneously and I knew that I was already shaking, that tremor usually a sign of a coming orgasm. That’s what he did to me. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t hold back.

Just in case that wasn’t obvious that he didn’t know he still had the magic, the only touch that could make me melt, he reminded me of something.

“You don’t need to wait for my permission to come.”

I gasped when I felt the mattress shift. Even though I was looking at the ceiling and this wasn’t the kind of hotel that would have a mirror affixed to said ceiling, I knew he was between my thighs. I felt his breath on my sensitive flesh, my nerve endings exploding with what was to come. This was punishment? Maybe he’d forgotten that his tongue was like nirvana and hell at the same time. He knew how to use it and turned me into an oral junkie. Five hours, five day...I could live with his tongue buried inside me and I’d still want more.

“Twenty five seconds is all you get,” he sighed, blowing the words against my quivering skin. “And you’ll count every second.”

His tongue lashed out, tracing one side of me, then the other, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

I let out a whisper when my nipple exploded in pain. I almost looked at my breast, knowing that my swollen peak would be pinched between his fingers, but forgetting to count and stealing a peek would be a bad and painful idea.

“One,” I panted, squeezing my eyes shut. As soon as the number dropped, he released my nipple. Somehow, I said the other numbers. I didn’t skip any or lose count, even when he buried his entire tongue inside my body. When I hit twenty-five, I was levitating over the bed, the passion overwhelming me. He didn’t scold me for knotting my fingers in his hair. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do anything but submerge myself in pleasure. More.
More
.

“Oh my God, I’m coming!” I hollered, a string of expletives following my release. I melted in his waiting mouth, still convulsing, delirious and shaking violently. I cried out again as he forced my thighs wider and I felt the mushroom tip I’d suckled at the opening of me.

“Look at me, Cat.” His voice was ragged, deep. He was giving me an order that I refused to not follow.

My eyes flew open and I drowned in the gray abyss as he thrust into my wet, shuddering heat. His face morphed with wild, ravenous need as he filled me, took it away, then gave it back to me and then some. This was the kind of sex I’d feel in the morning, the ache following me through the day and making me blush and get wet all over again.

This was the kind of sex I wanted, needed to have for the rest of my life.

Spinning, our bodies, our worlds colliding, I screamed “Again!” The other words were lost and wrapped in moans as I gripped his muscled ass and pulled him deeper. He didn’t announce his climax because I was sure the entire hotel, the entire block, heard his roar.

And if that wasn’t decadent enough, our sweaty bodies still entwined and spent, he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. Desperately. His tongue commanded mine, his moans breathing a new life in me. In us.

He collapsed beside me and just being this close, feeling his arm draped around me, answered my questions.

Is this real?

Are we gonna be okay?

Do you love me?

Still, I couldn’t resist.

“I have to ask you a question.” I started babbling, qualifying my question to make it easier to swallow. “Feel free to not answer, because there’s really only one right answer, but-”

“Ask the question, Cat.” He cupped my face, his strong and sure touch steadying me. “I’ll answer anything you ask. No more secrets.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, searching for the strength that usually came easy to me. The answer was already there. I saw it every time I looked at him. So I couldn’t look at him now. I needed to hear it. I needed to feel it. I needed him to show me.

“Do you love me, Lincoln?”

I expected his answer to be immediate, flying out of his mouth with all the weight and annoyance of ‘Duh.’ Instead, he lifted himself up and gazed deep into my eyes. I pulled myself up and brought the covers to my chin, my heart twisting in my chest.

“You know what? Dumb question. We’re barely back together and already I-”

“Shut up, Cat.” He hooked the back of my neck and brought his lips crashing into mine. His kiss was soft this time, like he was speaking directly to my soul. When the kiss ended, his mouth hovered inches above mine.

“I’ve never stopped loving you. I will love you until the day I die, you stubborn, naughty, beautiful woman.”

I could have made a smart ass comment or dredged up a past where he’d promised something similar, but I just stuck out my tongue, then leaned in and gave him a kiss to remember. A kiss to make up for lost time. A kiss to mark a new beginning.

*

I
thought telling Ash that Lincoln and me were back together was scary. She’d screamed her head off for half an hour before she paused and commented that I was glowing. And not a fresh, post-coital glow, but a can’t-wipe-the-smile-off-my-face-because-I’m-in-love glow.

I knew we wouldn’t be having any double dates anytime soon, but she agreed that as long as he stayed in line and I promised to take things slow, she’d try to not barf when he was brought up in conversation...or assault him when their paths inevitably crossed.

Dad was another story.

I wasn’t worried about Mom or Josie. They were both romantics and were giddy with excitement when I said I was bringing Lincoln home for Sunday dinner. Dad had grunted his approval, which meant that he’d either be as quiet as the grave through the entire affair, or he’d get out the shotgun and put Lincoln in his grave.

Lincoln hesitantly unbuckled his seatbelt and I wondered if he was worried about door #2.