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of my hand holding the
strawberry. I tried to pull my arm back but he gently pulled me
closer to him as he brought the strawberry closer to his open
mouth. The playful look in his eyes made me smile as we played tug
of war. I let out a small squeal in defiance as he pulled the berry
and me closer until we were just inches from his open mouth. He
made one quick move to the prize in my hand before changing
direction at the last second and pressing his lips against
mine.
    The second his lips met mine, my resistance
faded, and I melted into him until he broke away from me and nabbed
the strawberry from my hand. He popped it into his mouth and ate it
with a smug look on his face.
    “Gotcha,” he said with a smirk.
    I sat back on his thighs and sulked. “Ugh!” I
grunted and splashed him.
    Water sprinkled across his chest and face as
he flinched away. He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at me
with surprise. “Did you really just splash me?”
    I brought my champagne glass to my mouth and
downed the remaining liquid. “You stole my strawberry.” I shrugged
at Lincoln and set my now-empty glass on the tray.
    He copied my actions, drinking the rest of
his bubbly and setting his glass down. Moving faster than I
expected, he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him.
    “You’re going to regret that.” He smiled as I
settled onto his lap. “The payback for splashing is tickling.”
    I screamed as his fingers dug into my waist.
Goddammit! How did he find the exact right spot every time?
    Our wet bodies rubbed against each other as I
thrashed against him, trying to get away. His deep laughter
resonated in my soul, and for as much as I pretended to hate when
he tickled me, I loved that he did it.
    “Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop,” I chanted between
laughs, but his fingers didn’t stop their torment. He simply
laughed and ignored my pleading.
    I put my hands on his chest and tried to push
away from him, but he clung on harder.
    All right. Two can play at this game.
    I stopped fighting him and quickly moved to
kiss him. Our lips met, and when he returned the kiss his fingers
immediately stilled. I smiled as I realized I had succeeded in
halting his attack, but when his hands began wandering over my
body, the situation quickly intensified.
    I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled
myself closer to him. I opened my mouth to deepen our kiss, and
Lincoln groaned as he moved his hands over my butt and firmly
gripped my cheeks.
    I would never get tired of this. I had no
idea if this desperate need we had for each other was normal or if
Lincoln and I were just weak when it came to controlling ourselves.
Every time he touched me, I wanted more. Every kiss, I wanted
deeper. I was afraid of being too needy for him, but he never acted
like I was. He returned every feeling of longing and desperation
and made me feel like he never wanted to be without me.
    Lincoln was now rock hard against my pelvis,
and I whimpered as I tried to rub against him. When he let go of my
butt and moved his hands to my breasts, I saw my opportunity. I
rose up and positioned myself over his hardness and closed my eyes
as I felt the tip of him enter me.
    “Wait. Princess, wait,” he ordered as he
ripped his mouth away from mine. His hands moved to my hips to
prevent me from moving. “I don’t”—he paused as he breathed hard—“I
don’t have any condoms in here. We have to go to the bedroom.”
    I shook my head and bit my lower lip, and he
looked at me with confusion. Cupping his face with my hands, I
leaned in closer to him and whispered, “We can go in the bedroom
and get a condom if you want, but we don’t have to.”
    His eyes locked on mine, and he ever so
slightly shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
    “I went to the doctor last week,” I blurted
out.
    Lincoln furrowed his eyebrows. “Is everything
okay?”
    I nodded. “I told her I—I wanted to stop
using condoms.”
    He pulled back slightly and looked at me with
confusion.