The Perfect Gift

My nod is almost imperceptible. It’s all I can manage. Lincoln is mad…on my behalf? When was the last time I had someone all to myself on my side?

Lincoln curses, his face intense while he chews something over. “I’d like to be the one who gives you your first orgasm, Nova. I want to watch it make your eyes blind. I want to watch your hips shake, hear you whine like a baby. I want to smell it. But I won’t do it unless you ask me. Unless you say, ‘please show me what an orgasm feels like, Lincoln.’”

The tight buds of my nipples are making me restless. I yearn to press the palms of my hands over them to squeeze, but I don’t know if that would be odd. “How are you going to…do that…without touching me?”

“Skillfully.” His chest heaves as he waits for me to respond, as if his very sanity is riding on my answer. “Say the words if you want to feel good, little fairy.”

Do I want this?

To agree to something I’ve never experienced, no idea how it’ll end?

My body aches in places it never has before. My nipples throb in time with a newfound pulse between my legs and…I need something. An end to this anticipation, this stir of confusing desires. And if he won’t even be touching me, how scary could it be? Before I can question myself, I close my eyes and blurt the words. “Please show me what an orgasm feels like, Lincoln.”

His growl is predatory. Triumphant. “Stand up. Go wait by the couch.”

There’s a couch?

Since we walked into this room, I’ve been unaware of everything but Lincoln. His consuming energy, his gorgeous face and tall, muscled frame. Even the tic in his jaw makes my tummy clench. Every single time.

“Nova,” he prompts, beginning to search through my backpack. “Do as you’re told.”

“Yes, sir,” I murmur, rising naked from the bed to go stand by the couch. It’s positioned in front of the window, the glitter of my town spread out below. If anyone looks up here, they might even be able to make out our silhouettes through the gauzy white curtains. My naked body on display for this man, nothing but high heels of which to boast.

Should that excite me so much?

It does. To such a degree that I whimper while watching Lincoln approach in the window, the folds of my sex growing heavy and damp. Is that normal?

“Bend over and grip the arm of the couch,” he instructs. “Legs spread.”

Oh this is bad, isn’t it? Inappropriate in the extreme. And still I eagerly do as I’m told, enjoying the role as his plaything. Enjoying the act whether it’s wrong or right. As soon as I’m bent forward and my ankles are hip-width apart, I hear a humming sound. What is that?

A smooth object brushes my inner thigh—and it’s vibrating.

“Ohhh,” I exclaim, tilting my hips up. The light judder sends a flock of pulsations up, up and my core clenches tightly, dropping my mouth open on a sob. “What is that?”

“It’s a vibrator,” Lincoln answers thickly, slowly dragging the object up my thigh. When it’s nearly at my sex, I bite down on my bottom lip and dig my fingertips into the arm of the couch. If this vibrator feels so good on my thigh, what is it going to feel like there? “I’m going to use it on your pussy now.”

I nod vigorously, afraid to let go of my held breath—

The buzz finds me, pressing firmly to some glorious spot, a place that swells, seems to bloom like rose petals and everything inside me rejoices, expands. Stars burst in front of my eyes. “Lincoln.”

“You’ve already drenched the goddamn thing.” Lincoln grinds the vibration over that incredibly sensitive spot and I cry out. “Were you made for fucking, little girl?”

“I…I…I don’t know!”

“Christ, yes you were. You should see this little cunt pulsate.”

All of a sudden, the buzz is gone. The friction is gone. I whine Lincoln’s name, my thighs continuing to shake violently, my body begging for something. Anything. “P-please can I have it back?”

Lincoln appears to my left, towering above me, his eyes bright with what instinct tells me is arousal. There’s a sheen of sweat on his upper lip, his chest rifling up and down. In his hand, he holds a clear, curved wand. That is what’s making me feel like this?

Or is it Lincoln?

Because I can’t imagine exposing myself like this to anyone else. The very idea of it would have terrified me. But right now, I feel nothing but…celebrated. Just looking into his amber eyes is keeping me right on the edge of that release I could feel approaching. Even without the wand, I’m poised there on the precipice.

“Goddamn,” he grits out, his eyes running over my face, my body. “You can’t be real.”