Chapter 12 #2
“She’s already planning the roast. You know that, right? Gonna be told at every holiday table from now until the end of time.”
My heart flutters. He says the words so easily, as if he can picture me here during the holidays with them. Like I’m already a part of this family.
“Well, we’ll just have to wait until she does something that we can hold over her head.”
“That’s the spirit.” He sighs. “Ready?”
“I guess.” I stretch, wincing in that good, over-used way. “My body is going to feel this for days.”
His hand slides across the sheets, fingers brushing my thigh. “Good. That was the goal.”
I nudge him with my knee. “You’re so proud of yourself right now.”
He finally rolls to his side, propping himself up on one elbow, gaze warm and soft and just a little smug. “Hell yeah, I am. Look at you. Flushed. Thoroughly fucked. Can’t stop smiling.”
I smirk. “Cocky.”
He leans down, kissing me slow, slow, like the fire might still smolder somewhere beneath all that laughter.
Then another knock sounds. “You two done in there? ”
We both groan.
Sam drops his forehead against mine and mutters, “Next time, I’m locking her outside of the house.”
I grin, dragging my fingers through his messy hair. “Next time?”
“Oh yeah,” he says, mouth brushing mine again. “There’s definitely gonna be a next time.”
“Good.” I stand. “Do we have time for a shower?”
He eyes me slowly. “Darlin’, if we get in that shower, it’s going to take hours before we’re finished.”
“Hours?” I laugh, glancing over my shoulder with a grin. “Well, then…”
I take my time strolling toward the bathroom, hips swaying with exaggerated precision, knowing damn well he’s watching every step. The sheet slides down my back as I move, baring skin inch by inch until it slips completely, pooling around my ankles just before I reach the door.
I don’t look back. Just push it open and disappear into the bathroom, calling over my shoulder, “Guess you better hurry, cowboy.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then the sound of the bed shifting, a muttered curse, and the sound of heavy footsteps closing the distance fast.
“You’re evil,” he growls, voice rough as sin as he steps in behind me.
I turn the water on, steam already rising.
I look at him, completely unbothered, totally naked, and very aware of the effect I’m having. “What gave it away?”
His hands are on me before I can smirk again palming my ass, dragging me back against him so I can feel every hard inch of him pressed into my lower back.
“You’re not gonna make it easy on me, are you? ”
I tilt my head, lips just grazing his jaw. “Where’s the fun in easy?”
He groans like he’s in pain. “We’re never getting out of this shower.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
The steam wraps around us like a second skin as Sam presses my back against the cool tile; the contrast making me gasp. His mouth crashes into mine, and it’s all heat and tongue and need no patience left in either of us.
The water beats down on our skin, making everything slick and easier. His hands roam freely, gripping my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over sensitive peaks until I’m gasping into his mouth.
“You’re so damn wet,” he mutters against my lips, grinding into me, teasing me with the thick weight of his cock pressed right where I want him.
I moan, wrapping one leg around his hip to pull him closer. “Gee, wonder why.”
His laugh is low, wrecked, dangerous. “God, I love your mouth.”
“I know.” I reach down, wrapping my hand around him, giving him one slow stroke that makes him shudder. “And I know what you’re thinking right now.”
“Yeah?” he growls, hips jerking into my grip.
“You’re thinking about bending me over and fucking me until I can’t stand.”
His grip on my hip tightens. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll do it.”
I meet his gaze head-on, breath heaving, water dripping down my body. “Then do it.”
And that’s all it takes.
He spins me gently, pressing my chest to the cool tile, one hand flattening over my lower back while the other slides between my legs. His fingers tease me, just enough to make me writhe, make me beg.
“Goddamn, Charlie,” he breathes. “You’re already soaked.”
“Then stop teasing.”
He groans and thrusts into me in one hard, perfect stroke, and I scream, the echo swallowed by the spray of the water and the slap of skin on skin.
He pounds into me with ruthless rhythm, hands tight on my hips, his mouth at my neck whispering filth in that gravelly, breathless drawl.
“Look at you,” he growls. “Dripping. Moaning. Mine.”
“Yours,” I gasp, forehead pressed to the wall, body trembling. “Fuck, Sam?—”
He shifts his angle, hits that spot that makes my legs threaten to give out.
“You feel that?” he pants, fucking me harder. “That’s where you come for me.”
My body breaks.
I clench around him, crying out his name as the orgasm crashes through me, white-hot and blinding. He keeps going, chasing his own, fucking me through it until he groans loud and filthy, burying himself deep as he spills into me, his fingers bruising on my hips.
We stay there, panting, shaking, the water washing away everything but the fire still pulsing between us.
Eventually, he kisses my shoulder, slow and reverent.
I turn, facing him. Leaning forward, I nip his neck and then kiss the skin right in the spot that drives him crazy.
“I think you broke me,” I murmur.
He smiles. “Then we’re even.”