Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Bree
I n this whole mess of a situation, Sam is the only thing anchoring me here.
We had to wait for the police to come and ask questions, and the restaurant staff tried to personally soothe my wounds until they came. I don't know how many apologies were offered, and I got tired of assuring them it wasn't their fault and that I wasn't going to tarnish their reputation over the incident.
Apparently, the guy didn't even work here. No one knows how he got in. When the police escorted him away, I shuddered as I saw his face again. I shuddered even harder at the thought of what would have happened if Sam wasn't there to save me.
Sam hasn't left my side for a moment, his hand tirelessly stroking my back as I huddle in close to his side.
"You okay?" he asks gently against my hair, pulling me even closer against his body.
I nod, unable to let him go, my eyes staring into the floor.
"I'm worried about you. You've had a heavy shock, haven't you?"
His voice is so soothing. I let it wrap around me as I close my eyes and bury my face in his suit. It's hard to shake what just happened. I know that man won't find me at home, but I still can't bear the idea of going home alone tonight.
So when Sam starts to steer me toward his car and offers to take me to his penthouse, I wordlessly agree, too relieved to speak.
The ride over is a blur, and when he helps me get out, I don't pull away from him until we step out of his private elevator and into his home. I notice the huge windows immediately. They remind me of the restaurant, and that's probably why Sam closes the black curtains as the first order of business. I watch him gratefully, now holding on to my own body for comfort. When he finishes, he turns to me, a heartbroken little smile playing at his lips. It looks like he wants to apologize again, so I look away.
"Beautiful place you have here," I murmur, eyeing the staircase leading up to who knows where. I can't believe how tall the ceilings are.
"I can give you a proper tour when you're ready. Do you want to lie down or rest on the couch? Whatever you need is fine. I'll get out of your hair?—"
"No," I say quickly, moving toward him.
He closes the distance between us and rubs my upper arms.
"I can stay right here. Whatever you need."
Looking up into his eyes, I can't help but remember how furious he was earlier. He unleashed such a beating on that guy.
All for me.
Has anyone ever been so protective over me?
"What are you thinking?" Sam asks, now stroking my cheek with his thumb. There's true concern in his eyes. It makes me feel bad.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For saving me." I feel my eyes fill with tears, but before I can wipe them away, he's catching them on either thumb.
"I'm sorry he touched you." That hard look returns to Sam's eyes, but his touch is still gentle. "I should have gotten there sooner. I shouldn't have let him lay a finger on you."
"It's not your fault at all." I grab his hand with both of mine and rest my cheek into his palm. "I've been trouble for you since the moment we met. You don't have to apologize for anything."
I can see from the way his jaw tenses that he's gritting his teeth, but he doesn't say anything. I nuzzle my cheek against him again, comforted by the warmth of his hand. I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is that it feels right.
I just want to feel safe tonight.
Sam doesn't need me to say anything. His expression softens as he watches me, then his thumb passes across my lips, just the barest touch. My lips part as he continues to rub gently, back and forth, and he leans toward me, slowly.
I manage a gasp before his lips land on mine, gentler than I expected. They're so soft. They mold against me like pillows. I moan into the kiss as his arms wrap around my waist and pull my body tight against his. I haven't been enveloped like this in a long time, too long.
Sam coaxes me deeper into the kiss, taking his time to taste me, feel my lips against his. His tongue licks lightly at my lips and is gone by the time I'm opening for him, wishing to taste him as well. I push forward, seeking him, then our tongues meet, and I moan into his mouth again.
The fleeting sweetness of his mouth drives me crazy. He gives me a little taste only to withdraw again, making me chase him, but not for long. He gives me what I want but only after he makes me ask for it without a word.
Sam's hands roam up and down my body, gliding along the dress that hugs my form until he stops at my ass. He's squeezing my cheeks, getting two good handfuls, harder and harder, like some kind of need is taking over him.
"Sam—" I whisper as his fingers dig into me.
I can't speak past his lips, which are still hungrily covering mine. But my voice seems to awaken him. He kisses my cheeks, my jaw, my ear, my neck, his hands beginning to roam again up my back, then back down to my thighs, stretching for the hem of my dress. I can only sag heavily in his arms, letting his attention rain on me and wash away the filth of the evening.
When I feel his fingers curling beneath my dress, I step back from him, but he doesn't let me get far. His grip tightens, keeping me where he wants me, but I don't want to get away. I just want to get out of these clothes.
I raise my arms, and he lifts the dress up and off my body. He tosses it aside, his eyes taking me in. I'm just in a white thong and my platform heels. But I don't cover up. I want him to see me.
Sam scoops me into his arm and whisks me away to the staircase, his mouth on my neck. I wrap my arms around his head, keeping his attention there—and lower. He kisses a trail to my chest as he kicks open a door and walks us into a large bedroom, and he's soon suckling my breasts as he lowers me to the bed.
My fingers snake into his hair, and I toss my head back, letting him have as much of me as he wants. And the man is hungry. I can feel him holding back as he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other. He laps my stiff peaks before gently sinking his teeth in. I cry out softly and arch into his face, wanting more.
Sam tastes me all over, kissing and licking down my stomach, searching out spots that make me suck in a breath. I'm a tearful, nearly weeping mess, above and below the waist, by the time he reaches my thong. I'm so wet that my thighs glisten in the dim light.
"This is how badly you want me?" he murmurs, peeling my thong off.
I'm whimpering and trembling, unable to find my voice or any words. I feel like I'll scream if he touches me, he's wound me up so far.
"Shh, shh," he whispers. He drops his head to my thighs, and I feel his breath against my wet lips. I twitch away from him, the sensation overpowering me. "Don't move. Let me taste you just like this."
Sam keeps my legs pressed tightly together, and while kneeling on the floor, he gently slips his tongue between my lips.
"Ohhh godd!" I cry, pushing myself against his hot tongue, easing my pussy into his mouth.
He groans, the muffled sound vibrating into my core. I take that with another moan as he pumps his tongue back and forth between my lips, stimulating my clit. He lets me rock my hips up and down, riding out the motion and adapting to it. It's like he tunes directly into me. Other guys would do what they wanted. Sam does what I want.
He lets me drench his mouth until I'm crying out with no restraint, lost in how he eats me like he loves the taste. I'm getting close, begging him not to stop, my fingers tangled in his hair, but he does just that, slowing to a painful stop, his tongue simply sitting between my lips. Even that presence makes my clit pulse.
"Noo, nooo," I wail, feeling the orgasm slip away.
"I'm not done, Bree."
He smirks after freeing himself from me. I know there's undisguised lust written all over my face. I want him so bad that I can't care about him soaking up every little reaction of mine. I want to come too badly to be embarrassed.
"I want you," I whisper, my body writhing out of my control on the bed. "I want to feel you inside me."
"Where?" Sam strips slowly, his gaze burning into me.
I sink a finger into my soaking hole, massaging myself from the inside.
"Here."
Sam licks his lips, then surprises me with his strength and speed. He seizes my thighs and pulls me to the edge of the bed, making me gasp. The man is rock hard, poised in front of my sopping pussy.
"Here?" he murmurs. "You want me inside you, Bree?" The way his eyebrows raise, how he teases my entrance while looking into my eyes, willing me to answer, hanging on my every breath, it turns me into a puddle. I'm completely at his mercy.
I nod helplessly, but I can tell from the look on his face that it's not enough.
"Tell me, Bree. I need to hear you say it." Sam strokes his dick in front of my entrance, keeping the tip close enough to make me ache. "What a beautiful pussy."
"Please," I whimper, trying to inch toward him.
"Tell me. Tell me what you want, where you want it."
I cover my face, positively aching for him. "My pussy…"
"Look at me and tell me."
I can hear him pumping his dick faster, and I want to see him, watch him stroke his dick while he watches me. I part my fingers to see Sam's expression. He wants this as badly as I do.
He's thick and long, and I want him to make me scream. I can't wait another second.
"I want you to fill my pussy up," I say, dropping my hands to the side and locking eyes with him. My face feels hot, but I've given up on trying to hide my embarrassment. I can't care about anything else.
"Mmhm. That's what I wanted to hear."
Sam tosses his hair back behind his shoulder, exposing his Adam's apple with the motion. My stomach clenches at the gesture. This man is so fucking sexy. I gently squeeze my tits in anticipation as he gets serious, lining himself up with my entrance again and inching in.
His dark eyes are on my face, watching me take him. I can't look away.
Sam sees everything, from how my eyes widen at the size of him until they shut as they roll into the back of my head when he touches that spot deep inside of me. He pulls out, excruciatingly slow, but not all the way, just enough to make me miss him stretching my walls. Then he's pushing himself back in, deep, right where I want him.
I squirm on his dick, grinding on his hard length as he fucks me nice and slow, steadily working me up but never picking up the pace. It's perfect. And his eyes never leave me, not even as his lids grow heavy with lust.
"Sam, oh fuck, Sam!"
I can't stop writhing, and he lets me, keeping his hands firmly on my hips. God, I want him to fuck me fast and hard now, but at the same time, this is pure fucking bliss.
"Fuck me, Sam!" I whisper under my breath, my voice laced with pure desire.
He doesn't speed up. Instead, he starts to rub my clit, making me buck hard.
"Yes, yes, yes!" I chant, working my hips harder, trying to get him inside me faster. "Oh, Sam!"
"Fuck, Bree, you feel amazing," he whispers back, fingers digging into my hips.
With a groan, he curls his body forward. His abs tighten with the effort of his restraint, and my walls tighten around his dick in anticipation. Has he finally had too much? Will he lose control of himself and fuck me like an animal?
He grins and shakes his head, answering the question I hadn't asked.
"No, Bree," he continues in that low voice. "I'm going to keep fucking you just like this. I want you to come for me, just like this."
I slap at the bed with my hands, over and over, unable to release the tension building up in me in any other way. My movements are futile, even the way I buck my hips, trying to get more stimulation. I still only crawl to my orgasm, inch by inch, while Sam sets the pace for me from above, willing me to submit to the way he wants to have me. And even though I see him fighting to keep control, there's an iron will in him that won't break.
Watching him is what pushes me over the edge, watching him watch me.
"Sam—!"
"Come for me, take me with you," he grunts.
I'm bucking as hard and as fast as I can. Sam pants, his deep voice filling my ears and cranking up my pleasure. My nipples are rock hard as he strokes my clit, and my attention sharpens to a narrow focus, of him inside me, touching me, getting closer to his own climax, all the while watching me, drinking in my body.
"Fuckyesfuckyesfuckyes!!" I scream, my body arching off the bed as I come with explosive force.
I throw my head back and let the sensation rip through me as my moans fill the room. Distantly, I hear Sam encouraging me, but my screams soon drown him out as he suddenly picks up the pace, finally fucking me hard and fast. I clench the sheets beneath me in my hands, stilling as he pounds me. It's so fucking intense, I can barely take it.
But I don't want him to stop.
I want him to come.
And he's soon there, pulling out with a sharp cry to pop his load all over my stomach in thick white ribbons. I watch him empty himself onto me and drink in his moment of pure ecstasy.
"Oh Bree," he whispers between breaths.
I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. Sam looks so happy in this moment, so content. I don't think I've ever seen a man look like that after sex before. It makes me want to cuddle him close to me.
Not long later, after rinsing off, we're both wrapped in each other's arms again, clinging contently in his huge warm bed. His strong arms feel so secure around me, and I once again wonder what I would have done if he hadn't been there for me when I needed him the most.
I snuggle closer to his chest, breathing in his scent deeply, and he pulls me closer even though it sounds like sleep has found him.
I smile and let the bad memories slip away.