9. Lincoln

Ican't ignore the fire in Iris' eyes as we stride into the hotel lobby. The way she's looking at me cuts sharper than the late fall chill outside. "You had no right to force me on this trip," she hisses, her chestnut waves bouncing with every jab of her finger toward my chest.

"Come on, angel," I drawl. "The bus ride was a mere formality." I saunter up to the front desk, my arm brushing against hers, and I feel the shiver course through my pretty little obsession.

"Lincoln Blackwood," I announce to the receptionist, throwing down a credit card with practiced ease. The tightness in her smirk tells me she knows who I am. Quarterback charm gets me far… "One room."

"One?" Iris's tone could cut through steel. "You're delusional if you think?—"

"Already booked, babe." I barely glance back at her, all dismissive grins and careless shrugs as she fumes. "Not spending extra cash when I've got a perfectly good bed for two."

"Like hell I'm sharing with you!"

Her indignation buzzes in my ears, but I tune it out.

"Fine, I'll pay for my own room," she retorts, reaching for her bag with a defiance that would be admirable if it weren't so damn futile.

"Hey," I bark, the command sharp as I grip her wrist. "You're with me."

I'm used to getting my way, especially with her. I lead the way to the elevators, the soft thud of her footsteps trailing behind me.

"Let go, Satan's spawn!" Iris' huff of frustration is cute.

"No can do, babe. Don't want to lose my trophy." I wink at her. The elevator dings, and we step inside, her body pressed against mine. I inhale her scent, a mix of jasmine and lemon. My heartbeat picks up as the doors close, trapping us together.

"What do you want, Lincoln?"

"Just to have some fun," I growl, back against the wall, caging her in. She tries to shove past me, but I catch her wrists above her head, pinning her. "I've had enough of your attitude tonight, angel. Time you learned your place."

The door to our room clicks open, and I waste no time shoving her inside before she can make a scene. The space is all sleek lines and polished surfaces, impersonal as a doll's house. It smells like fake floral scented cleaner and desperation.

"Shut up, angel," I growl, my patience already threadbare. "Just shut up and?—"

She spits right in my face. My blood simmers. Who does she think she is?

"Feisty," I sneer, wiping my cheek dry. I grab her jaw with a firm hand, fingers pressing into her flesh enough to assert control without leaving a mark. Not yet, anyway. "But stupid."

"Get off me, Lincoln!" Her defiance is delicious, even as it pisses me off.

"Make me," I challenge, holding her gaze with mine, unyielding.

"Open up, it's my turn," I hiss between a Cheshire cat grin that would make the Joker proud. My fingers tighten around her jaw, a warning wrapped in flesh and bone. Iris' eyes widen, but it's too late to retreat—my spit lands inside her mouth, an invasion in its most primal form.

"Swallow," I command, the darkness in my voice echoing the twisted satisfaction gathering within me. "Well, that's one way to get me inside of you. Now I'm about to invade your body another way."

"Revenge smells so sweet," I whisper close to her ear, my voice a silky threat. Her eyes blaze with defiance, but I see something else there too—fear. It sends a thrill down my spine, igniting a craving within me.

"Revenge? For what?" she hisses, trying to jerk away from my hold.

"For every little jab you've thrown my way," I taunt, feeling the surge of power as I squeeze just a fraction tighter, watching carefully for that flicker of submission in her striking eyes. "For pushing me, testing me, making me want…this. Want you."

"Lincoln, you're hurting me," she protests, her voice barely more than a strained whisper. Perfect.

"Am I?" My smirk widens, and it's all teeth—predatory.

With a quick motion, I fling her onto the bed, the soft bounce of the mattress mocking the harshness of my actions. She gasps, the sound getting lost in the plushness of the room. There's no stopping now. I can almost taste the intoxicating mix of her indignation and hidden desire.

"Get off!" she screams, thrashing as I tear off her skirt and rip her t-shirt open. The sight of her lying vulnerable in just her bra and panties fuels my arousal. My cock strains against my pants, aching to be inside her. That smirk I love so much is nowhere to be seen now, replaced by a snarl that doesn't scare me—it excites me.

"Struggle all you want, Iris," I growl, pinning her arms above her head with ease. Her chest heaves in anger and panic, those cute little studs in her nipples teasing through the thin fabric of her bra. "It just makes it better for me. You have no idea how intoxicating it is."

"Fuck you, Lincoln," she spits out, but her words are diluted by the ragged edge of her breathing.

"Already on the agenda, angel," I retort, the raw edge of my own desire scraping against my control.

Her skin is soft under my rough hands. With each of her struggles, a deeper darkness unfurls within me, one I've kept leashed until now. It's liberating; it's power; it's pure, unadulterated need.

"Lincoln, please…" Her voice cracks, and something in me snaps.

"Shh," I command, silencing her with a look. "No more talking. Just feel."

I lean down, my lips hovering over hers, not touching — a promise of what's to come. "You're mine, angel. Tonight, you're mine."

I yank the delicate fabric of her cheekies with a swift, calculated motion, tearing it away from her body. Her gasp is music to my ears—discordant and sweet. Her panties are soaked, and I know if I touch her cunt, I will feel how much she gets off on this shit also.

"Mmm, been waiting for this, haven't you?"

With a smirk, I twist the fabric and stuff it into her mouth, silencing her protests. "This is where you hush," I murmur, watching the fire in her eyes flicker with defiance.

"Lincoln, mmph…" she tries to speak, but the fabric muffles her words. I can't help the chuckle that escapes me as I snatch my belt from around my waist.

"None of that now," I say, looping the leather around her wrists. The click of the buckle is satisfying as I secure her to the headboard, a shiver of anticipation running down my spine. She's bound, spread out for me like a banquet—and I'm fucking famished.

She bucks beneath me, a wild thing desperate for escape. But I'm an immovable force, my weight pinning her down. "Struggle all you want," I taunt, feeling the power thrum through me. "You're not going anywhere."

The only light in the room comes from the bedside lamp, casting shadows across Iris' face. My hands roam up the smooth skin of her thighs, her muscles tensing under my touch. Each squirm, each futile attempt to break free, fuels me.

"Remember what I said about ruining you?" I whisper against her ear, my breath hot on her skin. "I'm a man of my word, Iris."

"Does it scare you?" I ask, my voice low and menacing. "That I see you—all of you—even these little lines you so desperately hide?"

I lean closer, my lips brushing her earlobe as I continue my exploration. "I warned you, baby. You've unleashed something in me that can't be caged again. And tonight, you're the prey."

Without another word, I plunge two fingers into her wet heat, causing her to moan through the fabric in her mouth. She bites down, trying to muffle any more sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape her lips. I chuckle, my fingers working her insides while my other hand caresses her swollen bud.

"I can feel how wet you are for me. Your little pussy is practically dripping for my cock." I remove my fingers, and she whimpers.

I slide off her. My body feels like my skin is too tight. I've been holding back for far too long without letting myself indulge. A smirk curls around the corner of my mouth as I strip away the last vestiges of restraint along with my clothes.

"Look at you," I murmur, gaze raking over her form splayed out before me. Despite the fight in her emerald eyes, there's an undeniable truth between her legs, a wetness that betrays her. My chest swells with a sense of ownership—I've touched some raw nerve inside her. I rub the tip of my cock against her entrance and the bare feel of her is almost euphoric. It feels fucking wicked.

Without a second thought for protection, I give one rough thrust, claiming her in a way that leaves no room for doubt. She gasps against the gag, her body tensing around me with an intensity that almost robs me of breath. "You feel that?" I growl. "That's what it means to be mine."

I'm lost in the sensation, the urge to possess her every inch, every secret corner of her being. I freeze, savoring the moment and gathering a bit of self-control so I don't bust in an embarrassing amount of time. The silkiness of her pussy, gripping me like a vise—it's intoxicating, and I revel in the power of it. I've felt her cunt wrapped around me, but not like this. I've never felt a bare pussy before. The way it throbs against my frenum almost makes my knees weak.

Leaning down, I yank the cups of her pale-yellow bra down, baring her breasts to me. My mouth descends on one peak, my teeth grazing the flesh, marking her. Each bite, each suck, is a brand. I own her, and I don't share things I own.

"You taste almost…divine," I breathe out between licks, relishing the softness beneath my lips, the sharp intake of her breath as I lavish attention on her nipples. The metallic tang of her piercings flickers against my tongue, and I love that I'm tasting her rebellious spirit. No one expects miss prim and proper to have nipple jewelry.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I taunt, my words laced with tainted sweetness. "To feel something real, something raw?"

"Ah, baby, I'm under your skin now," I confess in a voice thick with desire. Each thump of her heart runs through her chest and against my lips and sends a surge of triumph through my veins. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Feel that, Iris?" My teeth sink deeper, a final, punishing bite to her flesh covering that useless organ we call a heart. She bucks beneath me, a shockwave of pleasure-pain etched across her face.

"Lincoln…" Her voice is a strangled moan, the name a curse, and a plea tangled together.

I can't help but smirk. "What's that? Can't hear you," I taunt, my breath hot against the damp skin of her breast. I force my fingers into her mouth and slowly drag out the matching pale-yellow panties I used to shut her the fuck up. I want to hear her beg for me.

With a growl, I thrust myself inside her, filling her completely at a punishing speed. I don't let up, using her body as much as she uses mine. Iris gasps, her body arching off the bed as much as it can. I can feel her legs wrap around me as I pound into her relentlessly.

I lean back so I can watch her face, the way her pretty little tits bounce, and grab onto her hips, feeling the way the divots fit into the palm of my hands. My grip on her tightens with each slap of skin, and I can see a few of my rings digging into her skin. My audacious Blackwood family crest ring is going to leave a mark. If only it was fucking permanent.

"Oh…oh…God…fuck!" My pretty little obsession no longer gagged is loud as fuck right now.

"That's it, baby. Call me your God. You've wanted me to take control, haven't you? Just so you could turn that brain of yours off. Better than any drug you could take." My mind runs wild at my insinuation that I'm better than her Adderall or her Molly or whatever else she's been putting into her body.

Her answering low, drawn-out moan is all the confirmation I need.

"Beg me nicely, though. I want to hear you beg your stepbrother."

"Please…please…fuck me, Lincoln. I-I need…I need to come…" Iris' nails dig into the belt and headboard, her knuckles white as she struggles to hold on to any semblance of control.

"That's more like it." Her submission is sweeter than anything I've tasted in a long time.

I want to feel her cum covering my bare cock, so I pick up my speed and move one of my hands to find her bundle of nerves, pulling back the hood and exposing them to me. I apply direct pressure and in quick succession make circles until I hear and feel it.

"I'm…I'm…going to…"

"Good, baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock." Her body clenches around me like she's trying to strangle me, and she comes undone. Causing this fierce clenching that draws an involuntary groan from my lips.

"Goddamn," I grunt, the strength of her orgasm doubling my own pleasure. Her defiance, her strength. It's all here unraveling in my arms as I come deep inside her, filling her until I'm fighting my own release for space inside her tight cunt.

A shudder rips through me as I lock eyes with her in the dim aftermath. Her green eyes blaze with a mix of emotions I can't quite decipher, but there's no mistaking the raw intensity between us. "You see," I growl, my voice thick with possession as I continue to move within her, filling her completely and forcing myself further into every part of her, "you're mine now. There's no going back."

She tries to look away, but I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me. "Accept it, angel. You belong to me—in every way." My words are a promise between her flesh and mine.

"Fuck you, Lincoln," she hisses, but even her defiance is laced with something else—something akin to surrender.

"Already doing that, angel," I say, smirking down at her. "And believe me, we're just getting started."

I pull back from Iris, my chest heaving and watch with a sense of primal satisfaction as the evidence of our orgasms, sticky white and illicit, slowly escapes her. Her chest rises and falls erratically, those piercing green eyes wide with a tumult of emotions I can't quite decipher.

"Look at you," I sneer, voice laced with triumph. My fingers dip into the warmth between her thighs, collecting the liquid proof of my dominance. She flinches, but I'm relentless. Bringing my glistening fingers to her lips, I smirk. "Taste what you do to me."

She turns her head away, but I'm faster, prying apart her lips. "Lick it up, angel," I say. There's a flash of loathing in her eyes, but it's quickly masked by the rebellion I've come to crave.

"Go to hell, Lincoln," she spits, but it's too late—I've already pushed past her defenses, forcing her to acknowledge the raw, undeniable truth of our connection as I spread my fingers inside her, coating every inch of her sharp, venomous tongue with our cum.

"Already there," I retort, my voice low and husky. "But you're coming with me, aren't you? Every goddamned time."

I rise above her, every muscle in my body taut with exertion and power. I'm not just a man; I'm a force that she's reckoned with—and lost. "Sleep now," I bark, the command rolling easily off my tongue. "I have a game tomorrow, and I won't have your bullshit wrecking my focus."

"Fuck your game," she hisses, but there's a tremble in her voice, a crack in her armor that tells me she's near her breaking point.

"Watch your mouth, or I'll fuck something else," I threaten, leaning down so close our noses nearly touch. "Remember, angel, with one call, one text, I can tear down the pretty little world you've built. All your secrets laid bare."

Her breathing hitches, and I know I've struck a nerve. "You wouldn't dare. I'll do the same to you," she challenges, but it's a false bravado.

"Try me," I challenge back, my tone cold and merciless. I'm playing a dangerous game, one where the stakes are high and the rewards…well, they're addictive.

"Lincoln…" Her voice cracks, and I savor the sound of her unraveling.

"Sleep," I repeat, my voice softer now, but no less commanding. "We're far from done here, angel, but even devils need their rest."

I stand, undoing her from the leather that's held her in place. I'm not worried about her going anywhere. As much as she fights me with her words, inside I can feel her being corrupted by me just as much as she infects me. I flick off the bedside lamp.

"Goodnight, little sis," I whisper to the night. "Dream of me."

She's mine—body, mind, and all the dark corners of her soul. And I intend to explore every last inch.