Page 33 of Safety Net (Mendell Hawks #3)

"I let go plenty." I circled my arms around his neck, brushing my nose against his. "I'm in your room because of my own suggestion."

He chuckled. "Sure, but this is just a start."

His thumbs kept circling but remained in place. There was an ache between my legs that grew ever wanting with every second he didn't make a move.

"I've found my first clue," he said, and before I could ask what he learned, he kissed my neck and the space right under my ear. The arch was instant and embarrassing. I laughed.

"An amateur sleuth could have deduced that one," I teased.

"Hey, give me a second," he whispered into my ear, voice low and deep. My smile vanished, the aching evolving into something dire.

"This kind of stuff requires time." He pulled back enough for me to see his face.

His fingers hooked the strap of my top, raising a brow to ask permission.

I nodded, and he slipped both down my shoulders.

Lincoln urged the shirt down until it pooled at my waist. My cheeks burned as the cold air hit my breasts.

"Everything…okay?" I asked when he paused for a second, interrupting the momentum.

He nodded. "Sorry, it's just… you're the woman of my dream and I'm trying hard to remain present and not think of all the ways I could screw this up."

My muscles relaxed when I remembered Lincoln had his own set of fears. Fears that occasionally intersected with mine. "I'm trying too. We're doing it together."

He smiled, placed his hand on the back of my head, and pulled me in for a kiss. It's a comforting sidebar that had nothing to do with satisfying sexual desire and everything to do with making sure we felt safe.

"You okay?" He pulled back, making sure he saw my face as I offered him confirmation.

"I'm perfect." I kissed him again.

"Want to be my right hand?"

I tilted my head to the side. "What's that?"

"Someone who helps gather clues?"

"Are you trying to shortcut your way into solving a mystery?" I laughed when he shrugged.

"I just think you'll be good at it," he said. "Something tells me you're a natural."

"Your instincts are wrong." I sobered a little.

"Never about stuff like this," Lincoln promised.

"I…I don't have much experience with stuff like this." My voice naturally dropped, seeking privacy in the quiet, as if someone were around to witness my lack of experience and offer me pity and comfort. "The physicality. The finishing."

Lincoln nodded. "I hear you. Any fantasies?"

I shook my head.

"No scenes from movies or books?"

"None I can recall," I said.

"Any about me?"

His question gave me pause. My grip around his neck loosened as I recalled something I'd thought of just a couple of days ago.

My skin burned, and I considered not telling him.

But the door was open and Lincoln stood on the other side, completely willing to make sure I'm okay once I cross the threshold.

"I've never had anyone go down on me," I said softly. "And I'm…curious how it'd feel if you were the one to do it."

Truthfully, I was more than curious. I couldn't put into words how a dream of his mouth on me had filtered its way into my repertoire multiple nights in a row. The memory of him had woken me up with enough longing to grind against my pillows for an unsatisfying release.

"How do you want me?" he asked with no hesitation.

"How…?" I blinked, confused, thrilled, and overwhelmed.

"On my knees or back? In a chair?" he asked.

"Chair?" I whispered, thinking of the possibilities I hadn't considered.

"I could do it from the front or back," Lincoln offered. "Till my lungs give out. In any way you want me."

I took a deep breath, thinking of everything and wondering if any of my choices would please him. "I don't know. How do you usually like to do it?"

He shook his head. "Celeste, I want you to tell me what to do. That's my only ask. I know what I like and it's being bossed around."

"You may have the wrong person for that," I said, unsure and nervous at the thought of being more dominant than him in a situation that required so much confidence.

Lincoln shook his head. "I don't think so. But I'll make a deal with you."

"Okay?"

"If you really hate it," he said. "I'll lead."

"And if I like it?"

"You get whatever you want, whenever, however," he promised. "I could walk away from this without finishing once, that's how much control I want you to have over me. How much control I've wanted to give you the moment I laid eyes on you."

There was nothing I could say to communicate to Lincoln how every nerve in my body was aflame for him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him towards me so I could feel his body between my legs as I kissed him. It was a soft kiss that grew rough and messy with every passing second.

"Tell me," he pleaded between kisses. "What to do?"

"Take…off my underwear?" I asked, feeling silly and needy at the same time. It was a discomforting combination that made it hard to swallow, let alone order.

"You sure?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"So be sure," he urged. Lincoln's fingers burned the skin on my thighs, but he still didn't move. He wanted a confident leader. It couldn't hurt to try.

"Take them off," I said. "Please."

He smiled and kissed me before reaching up to my waist and slipping the underwear off. "You're so polite about it."

"Should I not be?"

Lincoln kissed me and playfully bit my bottom lip before letting go. "I love it."

"Now my skirt." I took his hands, guiding them back to the zipper. He had it from there, and my last piece of clothing was gone in an instant.

Without a barrier between his bedsheets and me, I become keenly aware of how messy this could get and how messy I already was.

"Should I get a towel?" I asked, already feeling the spot underneath me getting wet.

"Unless that'll help you get more comfortable, don't worry about it. Because seeing you like this on my bed is making me unbearably hard."

My gaze strayed to his pants, where the firm imprint made itself known. I tilted my head to the side, studying it. "Take yours off."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, now," I said, only slightly firmer than my previous order. A spark flowed through my veins when he listened. There was a thrill in getting him to remove his shirt and underwear as well. I tested the gift of control by leaning back on my elbows and saying, "Kneel in front of me again."

He followed, trusting the surety in my tone. I could feel his heart hammering when his chest made contact with my knees. I nodded permission when he reached for my thighs.

"You can part them," I permitted after a few seconds of melting under his massage.

He followed the instructions, exposing me slowly.

"Fuck," he groaned, gaze entranced by me.

I burned at the show of pure, unfiltered admiration. Never in a million years did I think someone just looking at me would warrant such a reverent stare.

Lincoln pressed his lips to my thighs, kissing up and down as if he couldn't wait for another command but would in favor of his kink.

I sighed, body swimming in a new sense of pleasure and power. "Closer, but not completely there."

He hummed, thankful for the request. His kisses moved further in, mouth grazing the point where my thigh stopped and the soft hair began.

I hadn't trimmed in weeks, but it didn't seem to bother him. In fact, Lincoln's fingers brushed their hair, playing with the wispy strands as if any touch would give him the satisfaction we were both currently after.

"Could you…" I swallowed, anxious for a second before pushing myself to be brave and ask, "Taste me?"

He smiled and trailed his kisses closer to the spot that was desperate for him. I laughed when his initial kiss tickled. His touch was so light, nearly nonexistent. I laughed again when he continued the featherlike kisses.

"Lincoln," I said around my laughter.

"You're so ticklish," he mused, still coaxing me on with a grin.

"I know." I gasped for air. "It's…no one's ever been down there…so… It's very sensitive…"

He chuckled. "I see."

I kept laughing, a part of me afraid this wouldn't work. I'd never heard of anyone not being able to receive oral because of being too ticklish, but it could be a thing. And if that were the case for me, then we'd have to—

I stopped thinking when Lincoln's tongue pressed onto my clit with firm determination.

All softness and playfulness washed away.

My laughs faded into the moan I'd been holding onto.

Lincoln responded when his own sent a vibration through my body, and it made staying in contact both the best and worst possible experience I've ever had.

"Lincoln." I looked down at him to find he was already looking up at me. His eyes were questioning, in search of his command.

"Don't stop," I said.

He nodded without breaking contact. When I started to squirm from the overwhelming spikes of pleasure, he gripped my thighs, tugging them against his shoulders.

My hands found his head, and instinctually, I pushed him into me as I rocked my hips back and forth.

Lincoln moaned into me again, his brows wrinkled and fingers digging into my thighs as if pleading for more.

I didn't care about being good, sweet, or agreeable. I cared about the man between my legs, bringing me to a finish. I cared about the guy who'd supported me in every way he could, seeing me become completely his. I want to make him completely mine.

"I'm close," I said, my climax a breath away.

But right before I could tip over the edge, Lincoln repositioned his mouth.

The climax moved into the distance. I let out a breath, thinking it was an accident and thinking his excitement was getting the best of him as he tried to make this a perfect finish.

It didn't take me long to get close again, but once more, Lincoln changed his pace.

"Focus," I said, half-teasing, half-frustrated.

He hummed into me, his mouth still busy.

"Are you focused?" I propped myself on my elbows, meeting his gaze.

He nodded, eyes big, feigning innocence, and that was when I knew he was doing it on purpose. I laughed and said, "I thought I was in control."

Lincoln pulled away from me. I was all over his lips, and his smile couldn't be happier. "You are."

"Doesn't feel like it."

His deep chuckle pierced me. "I'm just having a little fun, sweetheart."

I felt myself tightening, needing something inside to calm the want. This was fun. This was why people moved mountains, skipped meals, and lost track of time. In a world where Lincoln existed, I never wanted to be alone again.

"You can't have it both ways," I said.

"Can't I?" he teased, nipping at my thigh.

"Lincoln." I put my hand on his cheek, urging him to face me.

"Yes?" His voice strained after he saw the seriousness in my expression.

"Make me come," I said. "And maybe I'll consider doing the same for you."

He tried to laugh, but my words had reached the part of him that'd been waiting for this kind of energy from me.

I guided him back to my clit, and that sealed the deal.

He was one thousand percent committed. His tongue oscillated between quick, needy licks and slow, careful ones.

My nerves couldn't take more than thirty seconds of Lincoln's focus.

I came with a moan louder than any word I've ever uttered.

I found my voice between Lincoln's sheets with his head between my thighs and my body in ecstasy. It was a kind of power I'll never give away. A type of power I knew he'd want me to keep forever.