Page 25 of Broken SEAL

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Joy

I feltlike I had melted into a puddle of goo. Right in the center of my bed. My legs shamefully opened wider. For him and for myself.

“Fuck!” He breathed in deeply, almost staggered. I knew he could smell it. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. There was no missing the thick scent of my arousal. It was heavy in the air between us. But the way his chest rose and fell, almost as if he was gulping in air, like he couldn’t breathe in enough of it, made me feel sexy in a way I’d never felt. Surer of myself.

His fingers stroked from my sternum to my collarbone and dropped back between my breasts.

“You’re so soft, baby.” His hand moved to one breast and plucked a hardened nipple. I gasped. The sensation moved through me straight to my clit, and my legs started to close, just a smidge, just to get some kind of relief, but Linc was fast. So fast.

Quickly, his free hand moved to my thigh to pry it open.

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, his molten eyes locking with mine. “Keep them open, baby girl.” God! Why was the way he talked to me so alluring?

My pussy clenched. I felt so empty, achy, needing so much more from him. There was no way I could hide it. Especially when a soft whimper of need slipped past my lips.

“Lincoln, please.” I wasn’t exactly sure what I needed, but I had no doubt in my mind he would deliver.

“You need me, Joy?” he asked with a wicked grin on his face. “Stay still,” he ordered. My breath hitched in the middle of my throat. “That’s a good girl.” He winked as his hand gently squeezed my left breasts, taking its weight and dropping it carefully to pay the other the same kind of attention. “Such pretty titties, Joy. Fuck.” His nose flared and that wicked look turned wolfish. “My sweet little Joy likes it dirty, doesn’t she? Fuck.” He shut his eyes, and when he opened them, they raked down my body.

I could almost feel his gaze like a touch. One that felt like a trail of fire of my skin. I was hot to the touch and wound up tight.

“Do you have any idea how many times I imagined this? Jerked myself off to this exact thought? You lying here perfectly still like my good girl, like a beautiful feast for me to enjoy?”

"Lincoln.” I swallowed, trying not to squirm. “You did?” I asked before I could stop myself. He nodded.

“Countless times,” he confessed, and I bit down on my lower lip. “Do you know how many times all I needed to do was look at that fucking picture, and I’d get painfully hard?”

“Shut up. You did not.” I chuckled incredulously.

There was no way that was true. He shifted, taking his hand off my body before he reached for something in his pocket. My eyes widened when he handed it to me. My picture. The one of just me I’d sent him. Folded in quarters. Soft and worn. Almost as if...

“I carry it with me everywhere. I always have it in my pocket. I have the other one in my wallet.”

“Really?” I asked. I knew I cared about him. Even as a faceless pen pal I exchanged letters with. But this whole night had been wild.

I had no doubt that tonight, this whole day from finally meeting him, him not kissing me and leaving to showing back on my doorstep, to him being in my bed with me completely bare for him, was a turning point.

Good or bad, life would never be the same after this.

Good,a little voice whispered in the back of my head. This can only be good, she assured me, and I knew it was right. There was no way a man could fake the way he was looking at me.

“Love me, Lincoln,” I requested softly, unashamed and confident.

Whether this would turn out to be one stolen night or a lifetime of them, I would ask for what I wanted. Heck, what I deserved. His eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against mine and we shared the same air.

“I can’t say no to you.” His words made my lips tingle, and before I could say another word, his mouth touched mine and he kissed me.

Hard and hungry.

It wasn’t sweet and soft or pretty. No. We needed one another too much. It was like a lit match had been tossed into dry brush. We ignited, hot and fast. His large body moved between my hips, and both of our hands raced to work his belt. We undid it together, smiling as we kissed, teeth scraping and noses bumping, but god, it was beautiful. Perfect.

Until his hands took my wrists and stopped me from reaching the hard, long prize he had hidden behind his faded denim.

“Wha-what?” I panted as I searched his eyes.

“Wait.” He breathed in. His nose flared. Lincoln looked like he was holding on by a thread.

“Why?” I whined. He shook his head, but there was no missing the slight twitch to his lips. His hands moved mine over my head, still holding on to my wrists, as I looked up at him.


Tags: Mayra Statham Romance