Samuel #2
“It only hurts,” I breathe, “when you’re not touching me.”
Her eyes darken. Then she pulls me down by the waistband of my jeans, her mouth brushing mine in a kiss that’s slow and hungry.
I groan into her lips and slide my hand up her waist, under her shirt, feeling the warm lines of her body arch into mine. My thumb skims under the band of her shorts, and she lifts her hips in the smallest, quietest invitation.
Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I drag them down her thighs, ensuring she feels every movement. Slow enough to savor the way her skin warms under my hands. She kicks her pants free without breaking eye contact.
My hand runs up her thigh as I trace every soft curve. Her legs fall apart just enough for me to fit between them again.
“So beautiful,” I breathe against her lips.
Her fingers curl into my shoulders, pulling me closer, wanting more, needing it as badly as I do. The feeling shoots through me, raw and electric. I can’t stand the fabric between us anymore.
Bracing against the mattress, I lift myself just enough to reach my belt. The movement pulls at my ribs, and I grit my teeth.
“Let me,” she whispers as she reaches down and unbuckles my belt. She pops the button and draws the zipper down. The heat of her hands against my hips damn near unravels me.
I lift just enough for her to slide the denim down my legs. It’s messy and awkward and real. Me half-bracing on one arm, her tugging them past my knees, both of us breathless.
The jeans hit the floor with a soft thud.
I shove my boxers down with one sharp motion, kicking them aside. The moment I’m bare, her gaze drags over me.
Her hands slide up my back, fingertips tracing the lines of muscle, the edge of ink, the curve of my shoulder blade.
I kiss my way down her neck, then along the delicate ridge of her collarbone. When I reach her breast, I slow, brushing my lips across her skin in a soft sweep that has her fingers tightening slightly in the sheets.
Then I take her into my mouth—slow, warm, deliberate. A trembling sigh escapes her as my tongue traces her tight nipple in lazy circles. She grips my shoulder for balance, her nails catching lightly against my skin, the smallest tremor running through her.
My hand moves down the curve of her waist, slipping beneath the thin fabric between us until my fingers find the heat waiting there.
She inhales sharply, her thighs tensing, then easing open around me as I stroke her.
My touch is unhurried and steady as I coax her body into a rhythm that pulls soft, breathy sounds from her lips.
Her hips shift, guiding herself closer to my touch. “I need you,” she says.
My hand slides lower, fisting myself. Needing her to see what she does to me. How close I am to breaking.
Her gaze dips, drinking in the way our bodies line up. The low, wanting sound she makes nearly undoes me. Slowly, deliberately, I drag the tip through her wetness. She shudders, pulling me closer with a need that borders on desperation.
“You sure?”
Her hand slips between us, covering mine, guiding me exactly where she wants me.
“I’m sure.”
The words undo me, and I press forward just enough to feel her open around the head of my cock.
“Look at me,” I say.
She does.
Wide-eyed. Trusting. Braver than she realizes.
The moment her gaze meets mine, the last of my restraint snaps. I push into her, driven by the feel of her beneath me and the way she opens for me without hesitation. Every inch pulls me deeper, the connection between us so fierce it steals the air from my lungs.
Her lips part on a broken inhale as her fingers lock around the back of my neck. The sound that rips out of me is raw and helpless, because she feels the same as she always does—tight, hot, welcoming, like she was built around every bad decision I’ve ever made.
She lifts her hips to meet me, urging me to take her deeper.
“Raven,” I say, half warning, half worship, all hunger.
I pull back and surge forward again, harder this time. Her thighs tighten around my hips, locking me in place, dragging me deeper with a need that matches my own. Every thrust sends a bolt of fire through my ribs, a burning reminder of Knox’s fists, but I don’t slow.
Pain is secondary. Nothing more than background noise that I can deal with later.
Right now, Raven’s beneath me, meeting me stroke for stroke, like she’s starving for me.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” I grit out, voice scraping low.
“You feel so good.” Her voice breaks into a breathless moan.
I brace harder on my good side, ignoring the sharp stab that bites through my ribs. She’s worth every second of pain. Worth every bruise and every reckless choice that brought us here.
Because the way she responds to me feels too damn good. Like everything I never thought I’d have. Everything I don’t deserve.
“Sam—”
The sound of my name falling from her lips, Christ, it nearly undoes me.
My mouth finds her throat, kissing her there, lingering just long enough to feel her pulse flutter beneath my lips. One hand slides beneath her knee, lifting her leg higher around my waist and changing the angle between us.
“There,” she breathes. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping,” I manage. “Until you fucking fall apart for me.”
Her breath stutters, her whole body going taut beneath mine. She clings to me like she’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping her afloat. Her hips rising to meet every deep, relentless grind of mine.
“Come for me, Raven. Let go.”
She shatters beneath me. Her cry is soft but desperate as her thighs clamp around my hips, her back arching into me, her fingers tangling in my hair.
I hold her through every tremor, every breath, every sound she gives me, moving just enough to push her higher but not enough to overwhelm her.
“You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are when you lose yourself,” I breathe, my thumb dragging along her jaw as her whole body trembles.
I brush my thumb across her cheek. “You're everything to me, sweetheart.”
“I’ve only ever been yours,” she whispers, voice shaking.
A growl rumbles low as I grip her hips harder, holding her exactly where I want her.
“That’s it.” I brush my lips over hers, soft, claiming. “I want everything. Every sound. Every shiver. Everything you give only to me.”