Eleven #3
When they left, Sam walked them to the door and locked the dead bolt after them.
He went immediately to the bedroom, and I cleaned up the kitchen.
Everything had to be back in its place. I found him, minutes later, sitting on the floor beside the washing machine, the sheets from the bed piled beside him.
“What’s wrong?”
“That should be fairly obvious.”
I moved to his side, crouching down, looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry about your sister, but I’m sure she and Kurt will—”
“Not that. I’m all twisted up, and you—”
I leaned forward, cupped his face in my palm, and kissed him.
He tried to lift his head away, but as soon as I ran my tongue over the seam of his lips, he parted them for me.
I tilted his head up so I could bear down on him, plunging my tongue deep into his mouth, tasting him as I maneuvered into his lap, my knees on either side of his thighs, straddling his hips.
The moan that came out of him made me smile before he pushed me back, breaking the kiss.
“What?”
“Stop. I gotta tell you something.”
“What?” I panted, staring into his eyes, worried.
He ran his thumb over my bottom lip before he lifted his head and pulled me down to kiss me breathless. I wrapped my arms around his neck and devoured him. I kissed him like he belonged to me and I had all the time in the world. The hand that gripped my hair and yanked my head back made me cry out.
“At the market today, I wanted to touch you, but I couldn’t.
People would’ve looked and…and I’ve been bitched at before by women I’ve been with, ’cause I’m not a guy that likes to be touched a lot and I don’t do the whole hand-holding and all that shit…
but today, with you… You drive me crazy, and I gotta have my hands on you all the fuckin’ time, and it scares the shit outta me.
I don’t… I mean, there I was, dying to grab you and I couldn’t. I couldn’t…”
“It’s okay.” I smiled down at him, shifting in his lap, feeling how hard he was under me. “You can touch me now. You can do whatever you want to me now.” His groan made me smile.
“Get up.”
I rose up off of him, and he grabbed me as Kurt had grabbed Jen earlier, throwing me over his shoulder, carrying me back to the couch.
He lifted the coffee table out of the way and threw one of the neatly folded afghans on the end of the couch into the middle of the floor, in front of the fire.
I opened it up and spread it where he wanted it as he stripped in the light of the flickering flames.
He looked like some bronzed god, and I couldn’t help the gasp that came out of me.
“You’re staring,” Sam murmured.
I could only nod.
“We need lube, yeah?”
Second nod from me.
“Go get it and hurry up.”
I ran to get the lube from the bedroom, not worrying if my scrambling and frantic movement made me look too eager.
I didn’t care if he knew how much I wanted him, as well as to please him.
When I returned, he was on the floor, stretched out, relaxed and waiting.
I let my eyes wander all over the powerful frame—not an ounce of fat on the man anywhere, just rippling muscle and sleek skin.
“Come here.”
I moved slowly, making him wait, stripping out of my jeans and shirt as he watched me with hungry eyes. The gaze was all heat, and I shivered seeing how much he wanted me.
“Jesus, J, you look like you’re made outta gold.”
Voice gone, all I could do was stare at him.
His breath was coming in stuttering bursts as he reached for me, pulling me down beside him, cupping my face to bring my mouth to his. “You’re killing me.”
I smiled against his lips then let him roll me over on my stomach and pin me to the floor.
His mouth was on my shoulder, one hand under me, stroking me, the other clutching my hip as he spread my legs with his knee.
I had no idea what kind of a lover Sam Kage had been before me.
I couldn’t speak to his prowess with women, but with me, he was everything I craved: physically demanding, rough, possessive, and absolutely in control.
I was there to be manhandled and ravaged, and I was more than willing to be submissive to him.
It was amazing to me that anyone who had ever been in bed with him before had let him go.
We made it to his hastily made bed the second time, and he stared into my eyes the entire time we made love.
That had never happened to me before. I had never had anyone care enough to watch me, to make sure I was sated along with them.
He was a ravenous lover, and I was more than willing to be devoured.
Later, as I trailed my fingers up and down the deep groove of his back, I heard his breathing even out.
If I stayed there, I wouldn’t be able to keep from touching him and kissing him, and he needed his rest, so I got up and went out into the living room to watch TV.
I must have dozed off because the room was dark when I felt the warm hand on my back and then lips right behind my ear.
“Love the purring.” His voice was soft. “Get up and come to bed.”
“Why are you up?” I whispered, not really awake, shivering in the cold, barely able to see him in the darkness of the room.
“’Cause I couldn’t find you,” he murmured, lightly kissing the side of my neck. “And I woke up and needed you.”
I smiled, because I liked the attention I was getting, his hand on my ass, kneading and squeezing before he gently slapped it.
“So is it me you want or my ass?”
He chuckled close to my ear, which put goose bumps all over my body. “Both. Come to bed.”
“Can’t sleep without me, huh?” I teased him, groggy as I got up and staggered to the bedroom with his hands on my shoulders, steering me there.
“No, I can’t,” he told me before he shoved me down on the bed.
“You’re getting used to having me around.”
“Just shut up,” he grumbled, “and lie down.”
But I was right—no matter what he said, I was habit-forming.
“God, you’re freezing,” he muttered, getting into bed beside me, covering us both with the sheet and blanket.
I snuggled in tight against him. “And you’re so warm.”
He groaned loudly, tucking my head under his chin as I wrapped my arms around his chest, slipping my leg between his.
“You need me.”
“Apparently,” he grumbled, rubbing his face in my hair. “Now go to sleep already.” And I felt like it, so I did.