Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

LINCOLN

FIVE DAYS LATER

I swear I have gained like five pounds. Groaning, I suck in my stomach and frown. I mean, logically, I know I haven’t gained that much weight, but I swear if I have to eat one more piece of wedding cake, I will have to get my pants let out. But then I think about November's reaction to my interest in the choices, and I know I will do whatever it takes to keep the look of joy on her face,

“Mmm. Good morning,” my love says, sauntering into the walk-in closet and wrapping her arms around my waist. I place my hand over hers and inhale, once again calm when her body is on any part of mine.

“It won’t be a good morning when my pants are busting at the seams.” I pretend to scowl to elicit the exact reaction I got. Her giggles. Spinning her in my arms, I tickle her until she is gasping for air, begging me to stop. Pulling her into my arms, I touch her face and stare into her perfect eyes, once again in awe of this gorgeous, sweet, warm, intelligent woman I now have the pleasure of living for the rest of my life. “God, I love your laughs,” I tell her right before our mouths meet in a slow, sweet, sensual buildup.

Her arms wrap around my neck when I lift her up to put her on the island in the closet. Thank fuck she sleeps with no underwear on because I would have no patience right now. “Aren’t you going to be late,” she asks while chasing my mouth with hers.

“I would quit just to be able to have this pussy whenever I want it.” It’s true. There have been plenty of mornings I have almost not gone in because I wanted to stay buried inside of her wet heat. This morning is no different, and today is more so because I have an important meeting with some potential new clients.

“You say the sweetest things to me.” Sliding my fingers through her slit, she cries out when I dip it in and out. “Linc, please.” Fuck I love it when she begs. My cock is begging as well in my pants, and even though I don’t have time to gorge this morning, It doesn’t mean I can’t indulge. Gripping her knees, I spread her legs.

“Fuck. Look at that pretty pussy. Put your feet on the island, baby. I want these legs spread, so nothing is blocking me from my sweet treat.” Her breathing speeds up while she does as I have commanded. I love the submissive side of her. “All mine,” I growl, rubbing my knuckles up and down; her moans, cries, and pleas flow through me and fill me with power, and all I want to do is dive down and bury my face in her snatch, licking her until she begs me to stop. So I do it. The first taste of her juice hits my tongue, and I groan. She tastes like a woman who has been claimed and owned. Did I mention she is sweet and perfect?

“Yes,” she moans while my fingers dig into the flesh of her thighs, making them red with my fingerprints. Her skin is pale and blemish-free, which makes the bruises I leave on her all the more mandatory. She needs to be marked just as she needs to be pregnant and swollen, visibly claimed.

“Fuck you taste like Thanksgiving pies. All of them wrapped up in one little package.”

“Lincoln, fuck me,” she begs. Shit. I am a weak fuck when it comes to her, but I can’t. I won’t allow either of us to be late for our shit. As the man, my job is to please and succeed.

“I can’t, sweetness. Just come for me. Give me all the cream, baby, so I can go to work high on your love.” With those words, I stick my fingers knuckle deep inside each other and close my eyes when she screams my name. Her legs begin to quiver before they fall to the side.

“Lincoln! Oh God,” she calls over and over, reaching for me.

“I’m here, baby.” Lifting her off the island, I walk into our bedroom and sit on the bed with her on my lap.

“Mmm. I needed that,” she says, sitting on my lap, snuggling in like she is going to go back to sleep.

“What do you have to do today?” She groans and says nothing before answering me.

“I have class today.” I detect annoyance, displeasure, or something else in her voice, and it puts me on alert. Standing with her in my arms, I place her on the island and rub her arms and legs.

“You don’t sound like someone who is enjoying school, baby. Do you not want to go? Talk to me.” She puts her head down and bites her lip, contemplating if she wants to tell me, and I hold my breath. I hope by now she knows she can tell me anything. “November.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t want to go to school. That was never what I wanted to do.” Interesting. That is the first time she has ever expressed that.

“Then why are you going?”

“My parents. My mom especially. I don’t want to disappoint her. She grew up in a chain of dry cleaners and wanted something different for me. My entire life she has told me what my future was going to be like, and I have just followed.” Well, that shit stops now.

“Why have you never told me this before?” She sighs, lying her head on my chest.

“I just didn’t want to let my mom down.”

“Baby, look at me.” When her sad eyes lock with mine, I vow to destroy that sad gaze and keep it from happening. “Our parents chose their life, baby. They took the path they did and however it turned out for them, that is their issue. You and I, we will make our own path and live our way. Do you understand what I am saying?” Her shiny, unshed tears give a glimmer of hope to my words. “I am saying if you don’t want to go to school, don’t. Whatever you want to do, tell me and we'll make it happen. I will make it happen.” No matter what it is. When she wraps her arms around me with more of a smile on her face I feel like I just conquered the world.