him up my body. His lips are wet, and a sinful grin tilts them upward as I scoot further up on the bed and he follows me.

“I wasn’t done. I’m still hungry,” he growls, then dips his head to kiss me. I taste myself in his mouth, and it’s dirty and debauched and so fucking hot.

Somehow, he’s still wearing all his clothes and I’m completely naked. That strikes me as totally unfair, so I help even things out by tugging his shirt over his head. His muscles are lean and defined, his skin smooth and lightly tanned, and I run my palms over every inch of his chest, arms, and back as he kicks off his pants and shoes.

He lowers himself over me, and I can feel the broad head of his cock nudging my entrance as he drops his head to kiss and nip at the junction of my neck and shoulder. He’s already pushing inside me when he freezes suddenly and pulls back. I’m breathing hard, and so is he as he draws away to look down at me.

“Condom?”

Oh. Right. It wasn’t exactly on purpose that we did it without one last time. But I don’t want to stop, and I don’t want anything between us.

“I’m on the pill,” I gasp, shaking my head. “Are you good?”

Maybe I should be more concerned about this. I know he was with Iris last year, and given the hoard of female groupies all the kings seem to have, I’m sure she wasn’t the only one.

Goddammit. Why am I even thinking about that?

The thought of how many other girls he’s slept with sticks in my brain like a hot poker, cooling some of the desire burning through my veins.

But he pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts by gripping my jaw in one large hand as he kisses me hard. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine, pressing into me in little pulses, just the head of his thick length breaching my entrance. It makes my pussy clench, makes me desperate to feel him buried inside me.

“I’m good,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “I’ve never fucked anyone like this before. Never fucked raw.”

Never.

Until me.

“Oh, God, Linc,” I whisper. I can’t even come up with words to respond to that, so I don’t say anything else, just hook my legs around his waist and haul him toward my body.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. He slides in to the hilt, filling me completely and making the bed rock slightly.

Fuck. It’s so good. I’ve never had sex without a condom before Lincoln either, and it’s better this way, so much better. I swear I can feel the velvety skin of his dick as he withdraws and drives in again, and I’m already working up to another orgasm.

Our first fuck was fast and frantic, but this is slow and deep and hard. I feel every single thrust through my entire body, and he pauses once in a while to grind his hips against mine, hitting my clit and making me moan. A sheen of sweat builds on his forehead as he fucks me like he’s trying to claim me.

Finally, his pace speeds up, falling out of rhythm until his cock swells and jerks. He’s still coming as he slips a hand between us and circles my clit with two fingers, sending me careening over the edge with him.

“Oh. God!” I bite out softly.

It’s a whisper, a broken plea, as my body breaks apart, my world dissolving and reforming around the connection between us.

He kisses the skin of my chest, neck, and shoulders as we both breathe hard into the silence. Last time this happened, I could feel the walls going back up as soon as the orgasms cleared our heads, but this time, it’s different. He stays buried inside me for a long time, and instead of growing tense, I can feel his entire body relaxing. The weight of his body on mine is perfect. I fucking love it.

Finally, he withdraws with one last kiss and heads to the bathroom. I hear the tap running before he returns a minute later with a warm, damp washcloth. His cock is still semi-hard, and the sight of Lincoln Black walking across my bedroom in all his naked glory brings a stupid smile to my face.

This is not how I expected tonight to go, but I don’t hate it at all.

He catches my grin as he crawls back onto the bed between my legs, using the cloth to wipe up the cum leaking from me. His eyebrow arches. “What’s so funny?”

I can’t stop smiling, and I weirdly don’t even feel that embarrassed about having him clean me up like this. It feels… I don’t know, normal. I like being taken care of by him.

“Nothing.” I chuckle. “It’s just—I wanted you too, I think. From the first minute I met you. Until you were a giant dick to me.”

His expression darkens, and I shake my head, reaching down to pull him back toward me. “It doesn’t matter, Linc. It’s over.”

That doesn’t seem to placate him much, but he flops onto his back beside me and throws the wadded up washcloth neatly into the hamper before pulling me toward him to drape my body over his.

“It does matter,” he mutters, combing his fingers through my sex-tangled hair.

He murmurs something else I don’t quite hear, and then we lay in silence, my head resting on his chest, his heartbeat thrumming in my ear. His body is warm and solid against mine, and when he reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, I tighten my grip on him, not ready for him to leave yet.

But he doesn’t.

He keeps stroking my hair as my eyelids grow heavy and sleep creeps over me, stealing me from consciousness.

There are so many unanswered questions in my life right now.

There’s a murderer walking free in Fox Hill, one who may be after me too, and I have no idea who it

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