The need inside my blood roars. Maybe if I reach for my inner alpha, if I grab at whatever control I can get my hands on at this point, I won’t cry. “Now circle it. Yes, just like that, just the tip of your—” My breath catches. “I forgot how good you are at this. Now kiss me. Slow and deep. Like you mean it, Samuel. Yes. Yes.” I reach for the Trojans on the bedside table. I grab one and tear it open with my teeth. “I want to come on your dick.”
Samuel groans against my pussy in reply, the vibration making me see stars.
I grab his hair and pull him away from my pussy. “On your knees.”
He straightens to an impressive height even on his knees, towering over me. His body radiates heat. I drink him in, starting at his thighs. He’s muscle and girth and strength, sinews tight against his skin. His mouth and the tip of his cock glisten. A cock that’s enormous, its velvet length protruding obscenely from between his sculpted hips.
All this power. He’s surrendering all this beauty to me.
My eyes film over. Hands shake as I pull the condom out of the wrapper and wrap my fingers around the underside of his shaft, giving him a firm, slow tug.
Oh my God, how am I supposed to maintain control when he’s so fucking beautiful?
When I can be exactly who I want to be with him because he makes me feel so damn at home in his arms?
I roll the condom onto his dick.
“Hey.” He curls his first finger underneath my chin, tilting my head to look up at him. “What’s wrong?”
Samuel’s brows are drawn together. Curving upward ever so slightly above his nose. His eyes are soft. His whole expression is sweetly concerned.
I shake my head. Sniff. “You’re pretty, that’s all.”
His belly bows out on a quiet laugh. “You’re the pretty one, Em. But thank you.”
He’s fully sheathed now. Ready to go. But I can’t help running my palm up his belly, fingers moving over the smooth skin just above his hips.
Rising up onto my own knees, I move up to his ribs, his breath quickening when I brush my fingers across his nipple. His pectoral muscles tighten, making him look even bigger and firmer.
I can feel the need thrumming inside his skin. He’s hot to the touch, breath coming in pants now. But still I go slowly, doing my best to savor the moment. Savor the fact that he’s flesh and blood and he’s here, and how that makes this encounter so much more intense than any I’ve had online.
It’s more intense than any encounter I’ve had, ever.
Our eyes meet. He reaches up and thumbs a tear off my cheek.
“I know,” he says. And then he cups my face in my hands and kisses me deeply, tenderly, the thickness of his erection pressing into my stomach. I can taste myself on his lips.
He breaks the kiss and sits on the mattress, straightening his legs. Without a word I climb onto his lap, knees straddling his hips, and taking his dick in my hand, I notch it at my center. His hands skim up my sides, thumbs flicking over my nipples as I lean my forehead against his. Our eyes lock. His breath is warm on my skin, our noses brushing when I wrap my arms around his neck.
Lowering the cradle of my hips, I sink onto his length. But then I stop, hissing when his head fully breaches my entrance.
He goes still. “Too much?”
“The angle,” I pant. “It’s different. I’ll be okay.”
In reply, he curls his arms around my waist, offering me support as I lower myself bit by bit. There’s some resistance, and I feel myself stretching to accommodate him. There’s a burning twinge that reminds me we’ve already done this once tonight, and beneath that, a calm certainty that we’ll do it again.
I sink as far as I can go. Samuel’s eyes on mine the whole time. For several beats, I stay there, our breaths finding a matching rhythm as I adjust to the feel of him.
It doesn’t take long until I’m soaked and soft and close to coming. I start rocking my hips, little circles at first. Samuel gives me a minute or two and then he starts moving too, thrusting his hips to meet mine. We go slowly at first, and then we keep going slow. The effort not to ride him hard and fast makes sweat break out on my skin, but I can see in his eyes that he wants to savor this too.
This isn’t playful sex. This is serious I’m-so-into-you sex, and even though it scares the shit out of me, it’s too wonderful not to enjoy.
Silent, I watch him rise to meet his orgasm, and he watches me. Brows curving upward again, he’s reaching down to thumb my clit, and that’s all it takes to send me over the edge. He cries out at the same moment my pussy fists around him, and I realize we’re coming together.
We cling to each other as it happens, my body pulsing with exquisite, almost brutal release.
The wave subsides and Samuel and I are left wrapped up together. Breathing hard, and falling harder.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Samuel
“Let’s talk,” I say the next morning, handing Emma her coffee.
She looks unkempt. Mouth swollen, cheeks bright, hair everywhere.
She looks like she’s just been fucked all night by someone who knows how.
I grin, my dick twitching at the memory of her sucking me off in the shower ten minutes ago. We’d ended up on the floor, tiles cold against my ass as she rode my dick with abandon. She came in two seconds and then asked me to come on her tits.
Yep. Never waking up without Emma Crawford in my bed again.
I want to shower with her. Cook for her. Eat with her. Fuck her again before lunch.
Spend time with her outside work where she’s my equal. My counterpoint.
I want that, even though the idea of living with someone should terrify me, given how much I value my privacy. But with Em—
With Em, I feel calm about changing my life, and the way I think.
She’s wearing the sweatshirt I gave her and nothing else. Her bare legs are muscled, strong, and sexy as hell.
And I know she’s going commando. I resist the urge to reach between her legs and find out if she woke up wet again.
“Can I have my coffee first?” she asks, tipping back the mug. “This is good, by the way.”
“Of course it is. I made it. And no, I want to talk to you now, before you have a chance to escape.”
She cocks a brow. “Are you holding me prisoner?”
“Only if you want me to.” I look out over the snow. We got a good six inches, and it blankets everything around us in white. The overcast sky is white too, turning the world into a quiet winter paradise. “I want you to stay.”
She smiles down at her mug. “We’ve been over this, remember? I am staying.”
“Not on the farm.” I take a breath. “I want you to stay with me. Here, in my house. For good.”
She swallows another sip, smoothing her tongue along her bottom lip. My gut twists. She’s hesitating.
Not the response I was hoping for.
“You know why I can’t,” she begins.
I dip my head. “I do. You’ve got a lot on the line, and I recognize how much you’re risking to be with me. I’m not even sure it’s right to make such a huge ask of you.” I search her eyes. My heart is pounding so hard I feel sick. I take a deep breath and plunge forward. “But I have to ask anyway. What we have—it’s once-in-a-lifetime stuff, Em. Last night, you asked me about my dad, and what went with him when he died. And I think it was my ability to trust people. That whole situation with Olly sure as hell didn’t help.”