CHAPTER 13 #2
I don’t have a chance to explain about the Nephilim because luckily, Robert comes back with two fabric bags filled with food, and a bottle of red wine. My giant tells the restaurant owner to add the cost to his tab. I’m about to argue, but he’s already looking too freaked out by my earlier words.
Instead, when we’re back on the street, I apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. And, um, thanks for the food. I can split the cost. What kind of cash app thing do you use?”
He waves his free hand through the air before wrapping it around my shoulders. “I was going to tell you before, so there’s no confusion between us, but then I was distracted by your tears, and more pleasantly distracted by your gorgeous body.”
“I’m sorry. You must have thought I was insane, breaking down into tears.” And I can’t tell him why. I can’t tell him its because he moved me so much, I had no choice.
He touches my cheek. “Not insane. Overcome. I was pretty overcome, myself.”
Odd, how some reassuring words can warm me down to my toes.
We begin walking again. “As to finances, my parents left me with a pretty hefty inheritance when they died. Between their business and the high-value insurance policies they took out the moment they adopted me, I don’t actually need to work.
I can’t live too extravagant a lifestyle.
I’m not a billionaire or anything, but I have enough to provide for a family if we live simply.
I certainly have enough to pay for a lady’s supper. ”
The way he says “family” and slants me a glance makes my pulse start jumping again.
“Anyway, just so you know,” he continues as we walk, “I’ll take it as a personal insult if you try to pay when we go out.”
“Because you’re a macho man?”
“You better believe it.” And he tacks on a playful growl at the end of his sentence that sends all those bolts of electricity zinging right between my legs again.
I don’t bother to argue. I just lean into him, all the hefty muscles in his thigh bunching and extending as we walk. “You’re going to spoil me for anyone else, Sammy.”
And when I look up, it’s to find him looking down at me as if he’s just experienced a theme park ride for the first time in his life.
I guess he likes the nickname.
*****
The French bistro food was delicious. Spread over the coffee table so we could sit on the couch and enjoy everything and each other, which we couldn’t do as well at my dining room table given his size and the tightness of the space, the empty cartons now look like the aftermath of a battle.
Mr. Mittens has decided to nap in the middle of the destruction, his soft purrs wafting through the air.
I’m almost ashamed to say I ate as much as Sampson did.
On his lap. Naked, because we couldn’t keep our parts from connecting.
Between offering me sips of heady red wine, he fed me morsels of tiny quiche bites that melted in my mouth, sips of onion soup, and bread spread with incredible, melty cheeses.
I had to keep reminding him to eat, which he did with an absent expression, too intent on watching me chew and swallow.
I didn’t know swallowing and chewing could be sexy. Live and learn, apparently, but I can’t say that I mind being the object of his focused attention.
“On a scale of one to ten,” he asks, his long fingers feathering my neck, petting me, as if he can’t stop touching me, “how sore is your pussy?”
“Really? Again?” Once we finished eating, we fucked. Again. And again. Not to mention the three more orgasms he gave me with his tongue before we started eating. “Kind of sore.” Because he’s large, but with the build of the rest of him, that was expected.
“Yeah, I figured.” Without moving me from his lap, he snags his jeans from the floor and shimmies into them.
I clasp my hands around his neck to keep my balance, but then he begins his feathery strokes down my body, and before I know it, I’m turned around and kissing him passionately, shoving my tongue down his throat, and seeking in him the same sort of ecstasy I keep discovering.
But since I really am sore, and my body reminds me of that fact each time I clamp down on a new wave of arousal, I finally pull away, but only so that I can slip to the floor and fumble with the jeans he just pulled up. Time for him to experience being cared for.
The hiss he inhales as his eyes grow limpid tells me he understands.
“Dessert for me. Lift your hips. Help a girl out.”
Which he does, so I can wiggle the pants he just put back on down to the floor. No underwear, which I could get used to since his dick is long, hard, and tempting. I like the image of it sticking out of his waistband.
His hands weave into my hair, holding me away from him as I lick my bottom lip. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to do this.”
He releases me with a sigh and leans back, jutting his hips forward on the cushion for easier access.
I wrap my hands around his length, one above the other, and run my palms up and down over his shaft.
A tiny dot of fluid springs from the eye of his head, and I lean forward further to lick it up on my tongue.
He tastes of earth and sky, water and fire.
The salty, briny taste of life spreads across my taste buds before I open my lips wider to try to suck him down.
He’s too big to fit within my jaws without my teeth scraping him, but I try.
When I can’t succeed, I vacuum the side skin between my lips instead, giving him light hickeys up and down his dick in-between using my tongue to trace patterns.
All the while, my hands pistol up and down, wringing him, tempting his seed.
He groans as he wraps his fingers into my hair. “Nina.”
Just my name. It’s enough.
I slide my lips down his shaft, using my tongue, moistening him I move a hand to cup his balls.
Once there, I squeeze gently. I’m pretty good at blow jobs, but he’s so big, it’s impossible to inhale him like I want to.
A sound of frustration leaves me as I try again to suck at least his head into my mouth.
The stretch makes my jaws ache too quickly.
“Sshh. Stick out your tongue, Jelly Bean. That’s it. Good girl.” He moves my hands to his thighs, his big muscled thighs, and uses his own hand on his shaft. At the same time, he rubs the head of his dick over my extended tongue. “Wow, that feels amazing. Thank you.”
And he slips back away from my mouth, his knees closing to keep me at a distance. But his dick is still hard and in his hand.
“Wait, that’s it?”
He quirks me a smile. “I told you that I can’t come unless I’m giving you pleasure. Well, or if I’ve just given you pleasure.”
“So, wait. You mean I can never just give you a blow job?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Maybe. I’ve never had to worry about a guy giving me more than I give back, but I could develop a complex if this continues.” Which is the truth. I like equality, and even if nothing is ever truly equal, I would prefer for it to be close. “Plus, I think that sometimes I’ll want to make you wild.”
Sampson inhales a deep breath. “Jelly Bean, you do that just by existing.”
Which may be true, but it still doesn’t feel right.
“Look, you can suck my dick for hours if you want to. I’m just not going to orgasm unless it’s inside you after you’ve come. Or unless I’ve just pleasured you… then I can come in your mouth.”
“That’s a heck of a psychological hang-up, though probably better than most of the others I can name.” The thought of his Red Room whizzes through my brain. He’s such a complex creature. I never knew that about him.
“There’s always sixty-nine,” he offers. “If you’re too sore inside, I could lie down, and you could sit on my mouth. Then we’d both be happy.”
I’ve never liked sixty-nine. I’m always afraid I’ll drill down on a guy and suffocate him, never mind worries about how much I weigh. But with Sampson… he’s large enough to take me, and strong enough to lift me up if he needs to breathe.
“Lie down.”
He’s flat before I’m even done rising to my feet.
Odd how I’m no longer embarrassed to be naked in front of the giant.
I’m always modest—what my friend, Sarah, calls fat-girl-modest as she describes her own aversion to being naked, even during sex.
But Sampson looks at me as if I’m beautiful, and that’s the way he makes me feel.
Rolls, sagging belly, breasts, hips, and all; it just feels like I’m modeling for Reubens.
“You’re so gorgeous, Jelly Bean. You’re enough to make any normal man come from just looking at you.”
Normal men. My heart twists a little at his characterization of himself. What’s he going to think once I finally disclose my thoughts on his origins? My poor, gentle giant is going to come apart.
Best to let him realize how perfect he is before that.
“I’ve got a better idea.” Getting into position takes a few moments.
I have to spread my legs wider than they normally like to spread because of his bulk, and we have to take the back cushions off the couch to give me room for my knees.
When that doesn’t work, he sighs, lifts me, and parks me over his mouth.
Except then I can’t reach his dick.
“New plan,” he says. In a quick motion, I’m in his arms. He carries me down to the pretty pink roses rug before sitting with his back leaning against the couch. “Remember wheelbarrow? Put your knees on the cushions and stick out your arms, hands on the floor. No, make that my thighs.”
The new position also takes a bit of maneuvering as my thighs cup his ears and he scrunches his waist. There’s a lot of laughter as I topple over, but strangely, it doesn’t take away from the desire. It adds to it.
He’s so easy to be with.
“Good girl. You’ve got this. You’re perfect, Nina. You’re a dream.”
If he wasn’t growling his appreciation, if his dick wasn’t dancing with desire, I’d end up mortified for certain at all the unladylike positions he’s putting me into while he gets me to stick my pussy in his face.
Luckily, he’s strong enough to hold me against gravity once I’m finally there.
I don’t take much of my weight on my arms, but in this position, with his abs crunched, I can just reach the head of his dick.
“See? Mutual pleasure. You’re so delicious.” And he buries his face in my folds. His tongue works miracles as it slides over my clit. He sucks it between his rows of teeth, the hard edges driving me wilder than the soft suction.
Right. My turn, too. I work my lips over the head of his dick, inhaling the scent of us from his skin before I suck and lick as best I can.
I’m soon lost in the sensations he’s pulling from me, and I’m moaning around his flesh, the need to give as good as I get distracting me from an impending orgasm.
My core tightens. I clench, wanting him inside me, needing him to fill me, but he just keeps drawing me higher and higher with his tongue and lips and teeth, until, despite the distraction, I crest and break with a cry.
I lose my grip on his thighs, but it doesn’t matter because he’s holding me up, so I wrap my hand around his shaft and focus, even as my world spins.
“Tongue out,” he says, growling into my flesh.
Just in time, I lay my tongue flat against his head.
He explodes with a sharp cry, and shoots a gallon of cum into my mouth and down my throat.
There’s so much, some of it drips off my lips and onto him.
I try to swallow, but the volume is too great.
I start to choke, but I’m so excited to be doing this for him that I try to wrap my lips around the head, to take in more, to suck him down…
Only when the last traces finish do I realize why I feel it when he comes inside me. The volume is incredible. There’s so much of his seed, I don’t think there’s enough birth control in the world to fight what he produces.
The thought should worry me, but it doesn’t. Whatever. He’ll take care of me. Us. And actually, I kind of like the idea of having a little red-haired baby. My hand falls to my stomach. Yeah. I could deal with Sampson’s child.
And never mind how fiercely independent I’ve been until this moment, or how I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to be with anyone, let alone have a child with them.
With a small smile, he flips me so I lie spooned back into him on the floor. He’s so strong, he has complete control of my body.
And yes, I find that hot.
“Okay?” he asks me, his voice strained.
“So okay,” I assure him.
Our breaths even out together, but before I slip into oblivion, I touch my stomach again. For right now, I don’t even care that I’ve caught baby fever, the worst STD a guy can give a girl.
I’ll care later. Probably.