Chapter Ten: Use Me
Sienna
What am I doing?
I hurl myself into the elevator and press my forehead against the cool glass, heaving out a breath I didn't realize I've been holding in. My hands are shaking as I try to gain control over my thoughts again, but they're torn between the way Lincoln's stubble felt against my neck and Reed's arm around his new woman.
How could I have been so stupid? This was an anniversary party for my company, and I let one of my clients grab my ass just to make my ex-fiancé jealous. I'm not acting like a CEO. I'm responding like someone in middle school.
I get off the elevator and stalk into my office, and the floor is disturbingly quiet from it being closed off tonight. Motion lights flicker on as I pace back and forth on the hardwood floor, my heels clattering loudly against it as I heave out another massive sigh. I don't even notice I'm crying until a tear falls onto my chest.
When will I get over this? When will I get over him? And why, in those moments with Lincoln, was I not even caring about whether or not Reed was jealous? It was only after he released me that the wave of realization came crashing down, but when Lincoln's hands were on me, when he was whispering those dirty things into my ear, it was like we were in our own little bubble that no one could break. I didn't think about Reed. I was thinking about Lincoln. The entire time.
And that's exactly what I shouldn't be doing. I get out of one disastrous relationship only to bounce back into another? I'm not ready for a relationship. Not when I just fled my anniversary party at the sight of Reed with another woman. I don't want to hurt anyone and getting involved with Lincoln is exactly how problems would arise.
The door to my office opens and Lincoln slips inside, shutting the door with his back behind him. I'm wondering how the hell he found me, but he says, "Carmen told me earlier that the upstairs was closed off tonight. I figured you'd be up here to get some air."
I nod, still unable to think as I scan over his face at the lips that were so close to my neck. At the hard-on of his that was pressed against my center.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and like a dam that's been broken, I completely break down. I hate that it's in front of a client, and I especially hate that it's in front of Lincoln, but I lose it. I'm sobbing as I try to get control of myself, but it seems almost impossible.
I'm expecting Lincoln to make some stupid, sarcastic comment, or rub it in my face, but instead, his eyes soften, and he sits down on the leather chair in front of my desk, tugging me into his lap. I stumble into him from the force, my knees on either side of one of his legs. His knee is pressed up against my panties underneath my dress, but I'm too sad to even think about how many lines I'm crossing. I let his arms curve around my back, rubbing gentle strokes along my spine. "He's an asshole," he adds, "and I'm sorry if what we did upset you or made it worse."
"It didn't." I sniffle and shake my head."It's not that I didn't enjoy it because I did, but Lincoln, I'm not ready to start anything serious. I cried just at the sight of Reed with someone else, and if we...continue whatever it was we started downstairs, I'm afraid of hurting you. I just got out of a two-year engagement, and it upsets me enough as it is that I haven't moved on yet. I'm a CEO of a fantastic fucking company, I have more money than I know what to do with, and yet I'm so..."
"Lonely?" Lincoln finishes, and when I bring my gaze to his, I can tell he's felt exactly the same.
I nod. "I should be fine on my own. I have nothing that I need or want, so I should be fine. I should be able to handle it. I shouldn't be crying, but I—"
Lincoln wipes away my tears with the pad of his thumb, stroking gently down my cheek. "You're human, Sienna. We're both humans. I hate that I know exactly how you feel, but I do...and I...I get where you're coming from, but we're allowed to have emotions. Just because we have money, doesn't mean we're not allowed to have problems, no matter how small they might seem. You have a heart, and although you're this badass CEO, you still want to have someone to share your time with. This lifestyle can be...so fucking lonely, but you're not wrong for how you're feeling. You're allowed to feel.
"And as far as what we did downstairs, I think you know as well as I do that I don't do serious relationships, or relationships at all, for that matter. I'm content being a bachelor, and when I first met you I told you that if you wanted to have a good time..." He sighs, and I hold my breath. "The offer still stands. Client or not, we're both humans with wants and desires, and if you need to use me, in whatever way that looks, then I'm all for it."
His hands are toying with the hemline of my dress right underneath my ass, and almost as if he can read my mind, he tilts his knee up slightly to graze against my panties. The friction emits a tiny gasp from my mouth, and I'm already so wet from downstairs that I'm not thinking clearly. Well, I am thinking clearly, I just don't like the answer I'm giving myself.
"Use me," he whispers softly. "You deserve to come, Sienna. Use me."
I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't, but I ignore all of the warning bells sounding off in my head and graze myself against his knee. Once, twice, until I'm moving in a rhythmic motion and dry humping his leg.
"That a girl," he mutters, placing his hands against my ass. His knee moves higher to give me even more friction, and in seconds he shoves my dress up over my ass to sit around my waist. I'm in nothing but a red lace thong, and Lincoln glances down, letting out a hiss when he feels my bare skin.
I'm wet, so wet, as I grind on his leg. I've always been loud during sex, it's something I can't help, and when I'm getting close to my climax, I'm moaning excessively, Lincoln's body moving with mine to give me exactly what I'm asking for. With every move, his knee clings to me between my legs, and with every roll of my hips, his hands grip down to apply more pressure.
Lincoln tugs on my ponytail as I continue to grind, bringing his lips to my ear to mutter, "Good fucking girl. Use me."
"Lincoln," I groan.
"I want you to soak my pant leg with your come, you hear me? All of that loneliness, frustration, anger...let it out, Sienna. Give it all to me."
I can't let myself think about what this means. I can't think about my past, I can't think about the reason I moved to New York. The way his knee is rubbing against my clit is pushing out any thought that threatens to pop in.
In a scream ripped from me, I sink my nails into his shoulders as I reach the best orgasm I've ever had, Lincoln's eyes dark and intent as he watches my face unravel. My legs are shaking as I come undone, and he groans, more than likely feeling the wetness through his pants that I've created.
"Yeah, that's it..." he sighs as I whimper and sink into his chest. I let him rub my back for a few moments before a tsunami of reason slams into my chest at what I just did. At what we just did. As quickly as he made me orgasm, I fly off his lap, grimacing at the large wet spot on the fabric covering his knee.
"I..." I clear my throat and step back until my bare ass meets my desk. My hands desperately tug my dress back down to cover up again, unable to look away from that cocky grin plastered on his face. He didn't even touch me. He didn't even undress. He made me explode from just his words and his knee, and he knows it. "We shouldn't have done that," I say. "It's just going to make everything more complicated between us."
He tilts his head to the side. "Having incredible orgasms is complicated?"
Even with every nerve in my body telling me that what we just did is wrong and crosses so many lines, I know deep down that whatever just happened between us won't be the last time. If he can make me orgasm like that just from words, then I can't imagine how he'd make me finish if he were to be inside of me, and there's no way in hell that I'll end things before I've experienced it.
I can't let him have the satisfaction though, not after that, so I straighten my shoulders and say, "No, but I can make myself come just as good with my fingers. It wasn't anything I haven't felt before."
"Mm," he says with a chuckle and rises to his feet, taking two steps closer toward me. In seconds I'm weak at the knees, fighting the urge to tackle him right on that chair as he places his hands on either side of me on the desk, boxing me in. "Can I see what an average job I did? I mean, if it was average, you couldn't have come that much, right?"
He moves his fingers underneath my dress, pausing to see my reaction. My whole body is hot for him, so I nod, and when his fingers reach my thong, when he pushes the lace to the side and feels my slit, he smiles devilishly at the dripping wetness he finds. "If this is an average job then I'm very curious to know what a good orgasm for you feels like, Sienna." He removes his hand and wipes them on his knee, adding more wetness to the fabric. I'm in agony from the loss of contact. I want to beg him to put his finger inside of me, but I can't let him win this. I'm still a boss-ass businesswoman who doesn't need any man, not even Lincoln Nash.
"If you change your mind..." He grabs a notepad and pen from my desk, scribbling a number down on it. "No strings, no attachments, just...this. What I just gave you. It's my personal number. Text me anytime, and I'll give you exactly what you need."
"Why?" I ask shakily. "I mean, did you like what just happened? Was I..." I trail off, not wanting to sound insecure because I'm not, but Lincoln is making me question everything. "It wouldn't feel right using you for that if I can't promise more."
"I don't want more," he counters. "We're in the same boat. If I didn't think you were fucking insatiable, Sienna, I wouldn't offer my number. I wouldn't ask for seconds. You're the first girl I've ever offered seconds to, or wanted seconds with. I am insanely attracted to you, and I want to devour every inch of your body, just not tonight. I want to save that for when the time is right. I'm using you just like you're using me."
I arch a brow. "And if I don't want this? If I don't agree?"
Lincoln isn't stupid. He can see me panting, he can see my eyes scanning over his lips, imagining what pleasure his mouth could bring me before he steps away and flashes another playboy grin. "I'll wait for your text," he says with a laugh, and before I'm able to offer a rebuttal, he's out the door.