ELEVEN
SAM
It’s like a dam breaking.
No. Not breaking.
Shattering.
Roaring waters that hungered for release that are now free. Raw, wild need that crashes through all barriers, all restraint. Unleashed. Unstoppable. Inevitable.
It’s impossible not to go to him when he’s alone.
Not to lock the door, and forget everything else exists as our mouths meet for a few perfect, fleeting moments in between meetings, before calls, after briefings.
Not to drown in his blazing, steely eyes every time I enter his office to leave a file on his desk.
Not to linger when his hand grazes mine.
Not to sink down on his cock when everyone has left and I can finally burn.
I’ve never wanted anyone like this. I’ve never been wanted like this before. There is an edge of desperation in the way he touches me, flashes of an urgency in his gaze I don’t understand.
He treats me mercilessly when he fucks me, holding nothing back, making sure my body breaks into thousands of tiny pieces before he puts me back together.
But he never stops being gentle with me, and sometimes, I think…
I think there is something else there, too.
Something more he might need from me that he doesn’t even realize.
Last week’s incident in his office is still vivid in my mind—the raw possessiveness with which he took me, the glimpses of vulnerability that made me slow our pace, the way he eased into it so naturally, never questioning it, simply giving in to it.
It’d felt like he was letting me take care of him, like he wanted me to take care of him, melting into my lead. Like he needed it.
It’s Thursday morning, a week later, when I get to work, already smiling and not at all surprised to see movement in Devon’s office. He comes in early every day now, and when I tease him about it, he grumbles adorably. But he’s always here when I arrive. Waiting for me.
I leave my stuff at my desk, not even caring where I set everything down. It doesn’t matter anyway. I need to be somewhere more important now.
Devon looks up when he hears me, blue-gray eyes twinkling when I lock the door behind me like I always do just in case, dimple popping with his smile when I go to him.
He wheels his chair back, making enough room for me to sit on his hard thigh. His arm wraps around my waist while mine loops around his neck, and a pleased sound rumbles in his chest when I use his tie to draw him in for a kiss.
“Look what the cat dragged in early yet again.”
He rolls his eyes, huffing out an insulted breath.
“I’ll have you know, I’m a very diligent worker. Coming in early helps me prepare for the day ahead. Plus, it sets a good example for my employees.”
“Oh yeah, absolutely. Take me, for instance. I’m so much more motivated to get in early, knowing my boss will be here.”
“Your boss, huh?” He leans in, pressing a tiny kiss behind my ear that makes me shiver.
“Yes. Maybe you know him. Tall, dark hair, impeccable dresser, shows minimal attention to his desk objects, has broken three lamps so far, keeps pestering me to get him strawberry milkshakes when nobody’s looking.
” He bites the spot he’d been kissing, and I grin, tracing his clean-shaven cheek and sharp jawline with my thumb.
“He converted me to sweet coffee and even hot chocolate office mornings,” I murmur, craning my neck to make more room for him to scent me, swallowing when he pulls back, and meets my gaze.
“I’m glad you like them,” he says, tone warm, expression open.
“I love them,” I tell him sincerely, and he smiles. “He’s also very demanding, you know. I can feel how demanding he is every time my body moves.”
My voice is breathless at this point, and the look he aims at me doesn’t change the situation one bit.
“Sounds like he’s a good fucking boss,” he rumbles, stormy gray sucking me in.
“Mhm,” I hum, needing him closer. My next words practically land on his tongue. “Such a good boss.”
His contented purr curls into my chest as I drown into him.
“Good morning,” I whisper between soft, long pulls of his lips that make my head wonderfully fuzzy.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he rasps gently, pressing a kiss to my cheek, and then another to the corner of my eye, and finally one to my temple.
God, he makes my knees weak. He makes my heart beat so fast, I don’t think it’ll ever slow down. Especially when he’s affectionate like this.
“What have I told you about calling me that when it’s still morning and I have the whole workday ahead of me?”
His cheek twitches. “Keep doing it?”
I stare blankly at him. “Do you want me distracted?”
“It depends. Would it mean you’d be thinking about me?”
Affectionate and playful. I’m so gone for this man.
“I’m always thinking about you, Devon.”
His arm tightens around me, his nails digging into my hip, while his other hand hooks under my knees, pulling me further up on his lap. Closer. Like even this distance is too much for him.
“Yeah?” he mutters, but something shifts, his breathing changing, his chest rising and falling faster, his body growing more tense beneath and against mine, and his eyes—
His eyes peer into mine, but they feel miles away from me.
The flash of pain I see in them is gone when I blink, but I know it wasn’t my imagination.
My hands cradle his face slowly so I don’t startle him, my movements soft and careful as I caress his cheeks while my heart thunders in my chest.
“Hey.” An imperceptible tremble bleeds into my voice before I can stop it. “Where did you go?”
I feel it when he relaxes, when his scent wraps around me, tangling with mine, when he comes back from whatever that was.
He presses into my touch, his eyes warmer and bluer than I’ve ever seen them, his arms gathering me impossibly close.
“Here. I’m here, Sam.”
My heartbeat hasn’t gone back to normal, as if my body can still feel whatever it was that shook his. Whatever it was that slipped into his mind and took him away.
“Yeah, you are,” I murmur, peering into his eyes, bringing his mouth to mine and kissing his lips. “You’re here with me. Stay with me, Devon.”
I see it. I see it when he melts for me.
This strong man who commands an entire company, who shoulders dozens of responsibilities every day and deals with them swiftly, coolly, decisively, melts under my hands, seeking my touch like it’s all he’d ever need.
And I’m so in love with him I’m scared my heart won’t be able to handle it.
“Can I tell you something?” he says, and the hint of vulnerability in his gaze makes my chest squeeze so tightly it hurts.
“Anything.”
“I don’t want to work today. I don’t want to be here right now,” he confesses quietly, the words as if dragged from a place deep inside him.
My fingers resume their stroking, the need to soothe him overriding everything else.
“What do you want, Devon?”
Tempestuous waters beneath overcast skies stare back at me, and all I can do is swim in them.
“I want to be alone with you. I don’t want to see, or smell, or think about anything else but you. Even if it’s just for a few hours.”
My belly cramps from the need to do exactly what he described, to be with him with no interruptions, no closed doors. To have him all to myself for just a little while.
“Do you live close by?” I mutter softly, the question landing on his lips.
His hands flex on me as his eyes swallow me whole, burning into me when he nods.
“Then you’ll give me an hour to take care of your schedule, and then you’ll take me there.” My breath hitches when Devon’s arms crash me against his body in the most perfect way possible. “We’ll be alone, and you’ll see, and smell, and think about nothing else but me. Okay?”
The last word is barely out of my mouth before he’s kissing me like he wants to etch himself in my soul.
My cheeks are still hot by the time I meet him by his car, and he drives us away.
He smiles the entire time.
***
Devon’s apartment is nothing short of spectacular.
It follows the sleek, minimal lines of his office with slate gray and dark brown furniture, and the view of the city is even more breathtaking—large windows hugging the entirety of his living room at a stunning 90-degree angle.
It’s a piece of art.
I look over my shoulder at Devon, who’s hanging our coats and suit jackets, his eyes meeting mine when he senses my gaze.
“Your home is beautiful.”
The smile he gives me is so achingly soft, I’m powerless not turn fully towards it—towards him—when he walks to me. His scent fills my lungs as he stops inches from me.
“Yours is better,” he says simply.
“How do you know? You haven’t even seen it.”
“I don’t have to.” His warmth curls around me as he reaches for me, and I nestle into his arms. “You’re there, Sammy. That’s enough.”
My throat tightens to the point of pain, my skin suddenly too tight to contain me.
“Hey, Devon?”
“Hm?”
“Will you give me a T-shirt to change into, and take me to bed?” His breathing changes as he peers down at me. “I want to nap with you. Can we do that?”
The weight of his gaze feels like a caress on my face.
“Yeah. We can do that.” His voice is rough, and I love the way his arms immediately tighten on me when I try to take a step back.
He doesn’t need to worry. I’m not going anywhere.
I beam at him when his arms fall and I thread his fingers with mine.
“Lead the way.”
I expect him to start walking, but he stays very still, his eyes dropping to our linked hands before they find mine again. And hold.
He never looks away as he leans down, brushing his mouth against mine in a feather-light kiss.
I’m pretty sure I’m blushing as hell when he pulls back, and judging by the way he smiles and his knuckles lift to graze my cheek, I’m right.
“Sometimes, I really hate my skin,” I grumble as he starts walking, pulling me after him. “It hides nothing.”
His chuckle reverberates in my own chest.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Terrible when you’re a grown man and you blush like a schoolboy with a crush.”