I start to panic.
Putting my hand on my forehead, I turn my head a little on the pillow. I can just make out the slumbering shadow of Samuel’s massive body. He breathes deeply, evenly, making my rapid, shallow breaths sound all the more distressed. Turning away, I reach for my phone on the nightstand. It’s 1:08 AM.
I pull up my chat app because I don’t know what else to do. Blue hasn’t sent me a message since I cancelled. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or bummed he hasn’t reached out since. I feel messy inside. Stirred up and swirling.
“Hey,” Samuel says in a sleep-roughed voice, making me jump.
I turn back to him. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness so I can see his face now. The swollen fullness of his lips makes my heart twist.
“Hi.”
“You okay?”
“No.”
He furrows his brow. “Are you hurting?”
“I’m a little sore, but nothing too bad.”
“Can I get you anything? Tylenol?”
Christ, why does he have to care so much? “That would be great, yeah.”
He sits up and turns on the light beside the bed. The muscles in his back and butt flex as he stands. He’s gloriously naked, and when he turns toward the bathroom, I can see he’s fully, unashamedly erect.
I want.
Samuel returns with the Tylenol, a glass of water, and some lube.
“The lube’s not for that,” he says, handing me the water and Tylenol. “It’s a little cooling, you know? Thought it might soothe your soreness.”
He’s not wrong. I gulp the medicine, grateful to have some water too. “All right.”
I figure he’ll pass the lube and let me apply it. But instead, he makes his way around the bed and sits beside me, erect penis and all, and squeezes a good bit of lube onto his fingers.
Sensation spikes through my clit at the image of him touching me.
“I can do it,” I say.
He cocks his head. “Let me? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
I love how he looks out for me.
“I know,” I say, knowing exactly where this is headed. “All right.”
I shouldn’t go for round two. Actually, I should get my ass out of Samuel’s bed and go home to process what’s going down between us.
But I want him too badly. I need him to hold me and love me, if only for tonight.
Because let’s be real, maybe tonight is all we have. I can love Samuel and be loved by him here in the privacy of his exquisite home, but when we’re back at the barn surrounded by employees and expectations—I mean, that’s a totally different scenario.
But for tonight, I can play pretend. The rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just him and me until forever. There will be no fallout, only orgasms and great food.
Samuel pulls back the covers. He’s naked, and I’m naked, and I’m parting my legs for him, I’m watching with bated breath as he leans down and kisses my stomach before reaching between my thighs.
He touches me, and I jump, the desire in my core tightening. His first two fingers glide down my slit, making my breath catch, and his nostrils flare again.
“Did you wake up this wet?”
The lube does feel nice, but that doesn’t stop my heart from swelling.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is when you need me, but you don’t say anything,” he replies, meeting my eyes. Shit, he’s angry. “Why didn’t you tell me? We don’t have to fuck. I can get you off a million other ways, Em.”
Em. I love all these nicknames he suddenly has for me.
“I know you can,” I shoot back, seeing stars when his fingers find my clit. “Doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.”
His fingers go still. “You think what we’re doing is wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I say softly. “But it feels nice. Samuel, it feels—” I hiss when he touches my clit again.
“You feel what?” he says.
“I feel like fucking you.”
I expect him to maul me right then and there. Instead, he pins me with a glare. Fingers still moving between my legs, he shakes his head. “I’m not fucking you.”
“Why not?”
“You know why. I want to make love to you. But it doesn’t matter what I want, because you’re sore and you think this is wrong and I won’t—”
“I want that,” I say quickly, a different kind of panic rising in my chest. “I want you to make love to me, Samuel. The lube is helping. You won’t hurt me, I promise. And this isn’t wrong. It’s just…complicated.”
“Complicated doesn’t equal right. I need you to be okay with this, or I’m not going any further.”
I roll my eyes. “Sometimes complicated equals delicious. And that’s what this is. Right now, Samuel, this is fucking delicious.” I firm my voice. “Give me what I want.”
He looks at me for a long beat. “Can I tell you what I want?”
“Sho-oot,” I manage when he slips a single finger inside me.
“That hurt?”
“No. It felt good. Really good.” I’m panting now, eyes glued to the place where he’s touching me. His fingers—those fingers—move slowly over my slick folds, making sticky sounds that only turn me on more.
“I love condoms. Well, I don’t love them, but I always use them. Like, always. But with you, I kinda…don’t. Want to use them, I mean.”
I go still, and my heart flips. For a second, I feel like I’m going to cry. Not because he’s being careless, but because he wants it to be different with me.
The idea is arousing in the extreme to the point that it overwhelms me. Fuck, how am I supposed to pretend these feelings will just…go away tomorrow?
“Samuel—”
“Forget it.” He leans in and presses a hot, quick kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Why did you bring it up?”
“Because I want you to trust me the way I trust you. Because I want to feel you. Because I’m the best lay you’ve ever had, and I want to show you how the sex can get even better. Because—”
A beat of silence stretches between us, filling with the words he didn’t say.
The words I’m too scared to hear.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “It was wrong of me to ask. To put pressure on you.”
“It’s okay. I just…I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”
He nods, climbing onto the bed so that he’s on his haunches between my legs. “I’m glad you told me. Just keep talking to me, okay?”
“Of course.”
He slips his hands underneath my knees and spreads my legs wider. He looks down at my pussy, then looks up at me. The earnestness in his gaze, the hunger, is so real and so sharp it takes my breath away. “May I?”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, throat suddenly tight. “You may.”
Then he ducks down and gives my slit a long, slow lick that has my hips curling off the bed and my fingers fisting in his hair. “My clit,” I say. “Go there. Now.”
His eyes flash as he does what I tell him, pressing the flat of his tongue to my clit. He stays there, waiting for further instruction.