3. Read the Damn Book
~ brIDGET ~
I frowned. “What the hell?”
“You think I don’t know, Bridget?” Sam muttered. “I went to buy all the books on the shelf so you’d have them on here and… wow. Just wow. I had no idea.”
I blinked as it came home to me what he must mean. “You mean… the book men?” I spluttered.
“The perfect men with perfect bodies who never fart or shit or anything like that? Yes, those men, Bridget, you’ve been lusting after them.”
“What?” I laughed. “You can’t be serious?”
He still knelt in front of me. He turned on the Kindle and frowned at it, tapping the screen for a few seconds, then looking at me past it. “This guy is impossibly good, Bridget. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“For what?” I giggled.
“For lusting after a man who isn’t your husband—who, by the way, is a smoke show.”
“I won’t argue with that point, but I’m not lusting!”
His brows rose and he stared at me like a disapproving teacher over the top of the Kindle. “I counted five different positions in one chapter alone . He had her against the wall, on the windowsill, on the floor, on the dresser—and on the bed… This guy is a machine.” He counted the positions off on his fingers. I mentally scrambled, then laughed again.
“I mean, he reminds me of you.”
Sam smiled. “Good answer. You’re still naughty though.”
“Why?”
And then he started to read to me out loud, and I almost died and went to heaven at the sound of Sam’s gruff, sexy voice speaking the words I’d enjoyed reading so much.
“…Slapping a hand to the wall behind her, I tugged her knee higher around my waist and thrust into her in a single, forceful taking that was almost violent in its need. But her head tipped back against the wall and she smiled as she gasped.
“I was frantic, unable to control the rabid growls and animalistic grunts breaking in my throat as I took her again and again, gripping her shoulder and pulling her down to meet my driving thrusts.
“She gasped and whimpered, her eyes rolling back in her head, her lips moving with broken, harsh cries as she pleaded for me, over and over.
“I had to own her. To brand her. I was overwhelmed with the deep, abiding sense that if I did not have her right now, she would be taken from me.
“Oh God—”
“Don’t stop!”
Sam’s lips pursed as he looked at me over the Kindle again.
“You heard her,” I sniggered. “Don’t stop!”
He snorted and his free hand snaked out to my knee. As he continued reading, his fingers trailed up and down the insides of my thighs, teased between my legs, and tickled my knees.
He smiled knowingly when I tensed and arched a brow at me. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I mean, it’s good for a woman to be loved.”
“Loved?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll keep going.”
“Please do, Sam.” But I was already a little breathless and he knew it. His smile grew more wicked as he went back to the reading.
“I dropped my chin to bite down on her shoulder—” He gasped in mock-shock. “This guy is violent!”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Pearl-clutcher.”
Sam grunted, but went back to the story.
“I dropped my chin to bite down on her shoulder, growling, fighting the urge to throw her to the floor. But she only dug her nails into my back and urged me on, both of us climbing, tensing, peaking, until—
The creak of her bedroom door was the only warning. The frantic, masculine call of her name that wasn’t from my throat froze us both on the spot.
“Yilan?! Yilan!”
I shuddered, holding my breath, buried deep inside my mate as her eyes flew open, and we both listened to her former betrothed hurry into her suite on the other side of this wall.
Just three or four feet to my left, the door lay open from her chamber.
Was he going to walk out here and find us like this?
I looked at Yilan and she looked at me.
“Yilan? Are you here?” His voice was muffled—he was checking her bathing room and dressing room. Searching for her.
I bared my teeth and Yilan shook her head in denial as I shuddered, fighting a war not to remove myself from her and go throttle that poor, tortured bastard. But the drive within me was undeniable. She was mine. She had to be mine. I looked down on her and she must have seen it in my eyes, because she shook her head.
No, she mouthed. Don’t.
I slid a hand up to her hair, scraping nails on her scalp as I grabbed a fistful and pulled her head back so her chin tipped up. She blinked, then her eyes widened. She gritted her teeth as I slowly, slowly drew out of her, her jaw going slack when I drove back in, my arm braced behind the hollow of her back and pulled her down onto me.
Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream…”
“This is what you like? Really?”
Between Sam’s voice reading Melek’s growl, and his teasing touch, my breath was growing heavy. “It’s an escape and… yes. A man who gives in to his primal side and can’t keep his hands off of his mate. I love it. Like I said, he reminds me of you.”
Sam looked very skeptical. “He’s seven feet tall and has wings.”
“Only sometimes. He manifests them. It’s a thing. But that’s not the part that makes me think of you. He’s a dark angel, Sam.”
With a grunt, Sam tossed the kindle back onto the bed and turned back to me. He hadn’t stopped touching me, but now he put both hands on me, stroking and teasing.
“I wondered why it was titled The King has Fallen when it was very obviously about a King who was getting it up—”
He curled one finger into me and I tensed, swallowing hard, trying to roll my hips into his touch. “He’s not the King… the King is… I mean—it’s referring to fallen angels.” I bit my lip when he beckoned with that finger inside me, then added a second.
“Is that stuff really what you like, Bridget?”
“Y-yes—”
“You want me growling?”
“I want you. Period.”
“Good answer.”
I let my head sink back on the chair, but kept my eyes open enough to watch him as he dropped his chin and watched himself touch me. His breath was growing heavier too, those broad shoulders rising and falling more quickly. I swallowed hard—when he rubbed inside me with two fingers I shivered and widened my knees as much as the bonds would allow.
“Sam, untie me so I can touch you back,” I whispered.
But Sam shook his head and watched himself touch me like it fascinated him. He was still in that ridiculous costume, but it shaded his abs and pecs so beautifully, and the pants were loose so they wouldn’t be hard to get off.
“Sam, please— ”
I clenched down on him when he slid his thumb up to rub my clit in time with the beckoning of his fingers inside.
Sam groaned and when he met my eyes again, his own were glazed. “Krampus needs to reward you for all those dirty thoughts.”
“Mmmmmm, yes please.”
I was pudding in his hands by the time he removed his touch and unbuckled those restraints. I sat up and reached for him, stroking his shoulders and back when he leaned down to untie my ankles. But when he straightened and I tried to kiss him, he turned his head away and manhandled me, pulling me to my feet and flipping me around to bend me over the bed.
With a low groan, he leaned hard into me, sliding himself against me as he braced over my shoulder on the bed. I arched and urged him on, assuming he would take me. But instead, he gripped my hair at the back and pushed my hand down, dropping the kindle flat on the bed in front of me as he flipped through it to another spot in the story.
“What are you—”
Still rubbing himself on me, threatening to take me at any second, he pushed my head down. “Read it. Out loud.”
I sucked in. “Sam, I can’t read while we’re—"
“Read, Bridget. Read until you can’t say words,” he said, his voice tight and harsh.
So I did my best, bracing on my elbows, trying to keep my eyes open as he slid and pressed and teased me.
I started reading, thrilling when his touch grew firmer and more instant… and then, to my delight, he mimicked what I read.
“With quiet, murmured words and gentle but firm hands, he pressed a hand between my shoulder blades to bend me forward until I was on all fours on the bed and he knelt behind me.”
I grabbed the Kindle as Sam lifted my hips and pushed me forward, moving with me until I was on all fours on the bed. I shuddered as he slid against me.
“I gripped the quilt in both hands and waited for him to take me, looking back over my shoulder to watch him…”
I turned to look at him, but he was staring down at me, his jaw slack, and the sight of him there—he’d discarded the pants, but still had that jacket hanging open over his beautiful body. I groaned and went back to the story.
“He reached for my hips and spread my knees wider then, positioning himself, pulled me back towards him—”
Sam did the same and we both groaned, but he didn’t enter me. I was stammering as I hurried through the scene to get to the part where he would.
“When he touched my slick skin, sliding himself up and down, I closed my eyes, groaning quietly when he hesitated right there.
““Do it,” I breathed, nudging back against him. “Please.”
““Patience, beautiful.”
“I loved that dark purr that entered his voice. But before I could tell him so, he grabbed my waist and pulled me slowly back, entering me in two or three slow strokes, until his hips were hard against my ass.
“As he filled me, I dropped my head, moaning— oh! Shit, Sam!” I gasped.
I dropped my head to enjoy the delicious sensations as Sam took me in one, demanding slide, then pulled all the way out of me. I whimpered, but as he thrust back in, he curled over my back and took that grip on my hair again.
“Keep. Reading.”
Half-thrilled and half-devastated, I searched for my place on that screen as my husband kept his slow, frustrating pace, his movements following the book like it was an instruction manual—but slowly, because it took me time to read the words.
“…He moved slowly within me, easing in and out as he lifted me up, spreading my knees, urging me to kneel as well, until finally, I straddled his thighs, my back against his chest, my head resting back against his shoulder, and he was within me.”
“Fuck, Bridget,” he growled as he pulled me up so I was sitting over his thighs and riding him, my back to his chest.
“Yes please!”
He groaned and stroked a hand up my belly to my breast as he opened his mouth on my neck. “God, I love it when your nipples get hard for me,” he breathed harshly against my neck.
“Ha. I l-love it when you get hard for me, so we’re even.”
But then he lifted my hand that still held the kindle and put it in front of me. I groaned again. “Sam, I just want to be with you—”
“This is your reward for all that naughtiness, Bridget,” he growled. “Read the damn book.”
He dropped his hands to my hips and pulled me hard down onto him. I tried to read the book, but fumbled.
“Because of his thick, iron thighs—” I snorted. Sam scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Don’t worry, babe,” I assured him breathlessly. “Your iron is all I need.”
“I should hope so.” Then he thrust into me again. I was having trouble keeping the Kindle still enough to read it, but loving playing this out with him. So I let my voice go breathy and high when the feelings he wrung from me made it that way. And I kept reading.
“Because of his thick, iron thighs, I knelt, shins flat on the bed on either side of his folded legs, leaving me little room to move.
“But he didn’t seem to care as he urged me to relax against him, and his hip thrusts grew a little deeper, a little stronger.
“Can you feel me like that, Beautiful?” he rasped, one hand still over my mouth as I nodded quickly, my breath growing harsher in my nose. “Good girl,” he chuckled.
“A man after my own heart,” Sam croaked.
“I told you he reminded me of you.”
“His free hand clamped on my hip first, pulling me harder against him as he widened his knees between mine, so I was stretched wide and taking him, my back arched and breasts high because there was so much more of him than me—"
To my relief, Sam yanked the kindle out of my hand and tossed it against the pillows, pulling me back, and thrusting hard enough that my breasts bounced.
“No. More. Reading.”
I let my head sink back against his shoulder, smiling, so, so grateful that my husband was such a fucking genius. I was horny and wet and dying for him as he brought one hand up to my breast, cupping and kneading it, pinching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then slid the other between my legs.
My jaw dropped and my breath stopped when he stroked me with one slick finger sliding against me in time with his rolling hips.
Sam gave a low rumble in his chest and the vibration of it against my back raised tingling on my skin. He leaned back slowly, pulling me with him until I was riding him, panting, barely able to balance on the bed because his thighs were so thick under me. To my delight, Sam used the hand between my legs to pull me against him, adding to the pressure and pleasure of his stroking, his hand pressing and sliding against every delicate inch, while he filled me from behind, first slow and deep, but soon picking up the pace.
“Bridget…” He nipped that sensitive skin under my ear. “Keep going, Bridget… keep fucking going.”
The sheer need in his gruff voice sent a shiver of pleasure skating down my spine. I could do little but sit heavily onto him as he thrust, my weight giving him resistance, his hands sliding all over my skin raising goosebumps wherever he touched.
I don’t know when I gave it voice, but as he picked up the pace, I cried out for him, shocking bolts of pleasure snapping through me between where he took me and where he touched.
He had both hands on my breasts for a while, but as we both began to ride that wave of promise, he slipped his hands up to hook over my shoulders and pull me down onto him.
I was a shuddering, puddling mess of bliss when he opened his mouth on my neck while his fingers and cock drew ecstasy from me.
“Sam!” I gasped.
“I’ve got you,” he croaked and the sound of his torment made me tighten on him. Which only urged him faster and harder.
Sam grunted in time with my cries, and his thrusts increased, until he was holding me in place, his hips slapping up to meet me as I braced.
I was a shuddering, breathless mess, hands back to fist in his hair, my body twitching with each wave of pleasure.
“Sam… Sam!”
“I’ve got you, Bridget… I’ve got you —fuck!”
My body tightened and I bowed as I crested that wave and it crashed deep inside me—meeting the jolt of pleasure from Sam as well. I clamped down on him, shuddering as he buried his face in my neck and bellowed, thrusting again and again, until both of us cried out and slumped.
Sam cursed and wrapped an arm around my stomach, pulling me to drop onto the quilt with him, holding me tightly against his chest, still inside me as his twitching, jerking body slowly went still… holding me as we both caught our breaths.
As we laid there and I slowly returned to my right mind, I smiled genuinely, and felt more relaxed than I had in weeks. And of course, that made my eyes pinch with tears of gratitude. I was glad Sam couldn’t see them from behind me.
I hugged his arm that was around my middle and sighed. “Thank you, Sam.”
“I love you, Bridget.”
“I know. I really do. I love you too.”
And we fell asleep there, together. One body, wrapped in each other.