20. Rowan #2
“Wylder insists on it. Says it’s a good bonding experience.”
I look over at Wylder, who is pinching the bridge of his nose. Neo is whispering in his ear. Whatever he’s saying has the tension around Wylder’s lips softening.
I take Samson’s arm and smile brightly. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He grumbles but doesn’t resist, just lets me pull him out of the large room and toward the stairs. I have no idea where I’m going, but it seems right. I only realize I’m going up the wrong set of stairs when Samson links his hand with mine and guides me to the other side of the house.
We walk up a set of stairs in silence, his hand flexing against mine.
Then we step into a familiar hallway, and a moment later, we’re in his room, the door shut behind us.
He shucks his clothes in a matter of seconds, leaving him enticingly nude before me.
“You okay?” I ask as he stares at his wet pants in derision.
“I’ll be better in the shower. You going to join me? Think you owe me after your dog took a piss on me and ate my game pieces.”
I cock my head and wet my lips before deciding I probably do owe him. That was ridiculous and very rude of Nugget.
So I let my hands peel my shirt off, tossing it onto the floor.
His eyes darken, and his cock thickens between his legs.
When I shove my pants off and step up to him, my hands landing on his chest, he’s fully hard. I drop several kisses over his pecs, pausing to drag my teeth across his nipple. The hiss it draws from him is delicious. “Poor baby. Let me get you all cleaned up.”
I rise up on my toes, like I’m on stage, and kiss him thoroughly. I can feel him soften beneath me. His hands come to my waist. His tongue meets mine. His thick thigh slides between mine, my hard cock dripping all over him.
That’s one mess he doesn’t seem to mind.
We kiss until we’re mindless. Until I need him inside me so badly, I think I might die without it.
Stumbling into the shower, we only break apart long enough to wash each other. The scrape of Samson’s palms against my skin makes my entire body tremble. Or maybe it’s the anticipation of what’s coming. The pleasure I only feel with this man.
Because it’s true. No one takes me apart as thoroughly as Samson does.
Finally, he grabs the lube from beside the shampoo. I whine in desperation as he slides slicked-up fingers against my hole. My back arches, offering my ass up in tribute.
I want this man to wreck me. I need it.
“Sure you want this?” His fingers are already stretching me wide. “I can’t promise to be gentle. I’m too worked up.”
“Fuck gentle,” I rasp, the words dissolving into a moan as he brushes against my prostate. “Give me everything.”
He sinks his teeth into my earlobe, his deep voice hoarse in my ear. “You’re perfect. Made for me.”
His words have me stilling. I’m far from perfect. Samson knows that now.
I’m saved from replying when he replaces his fingers with his cock. Like he said, there’s no gentleness. He thrusts in to the hilt, my lips opening on a silent scream.
Water runs over my face as Samson sets a relentless pace.
I barely notice, too caught up in how he’s making me feel.
I’m on my tiptoes, thrusting back, taking all of him, our moans echoing off the walls.
The slap of wet skin, the feel of his hard length tunneling in and out of me, brings me close to the edge in minutes.
His fingers dig into my hips, lifting me slightly, and my fingers curl into the tiles as I try to keep myself upright. But it’s too hard when my limbs are shaking like this. If it weren’t for my years of dance training, I would’ve collapsed long before now.
His face tucks into my neck, his lips and teeth dragging across my sensitive skin.
“You feel so good. Want to be buried in you day and night. Feed you my cock first thing in the morning until you’re choking on it.
Finger you in the kitchen when no one else is around.
Lay you over that fucking game-night table and rim you until you’re screaming my name.
There’s so much I’m going to do to you, Rowan. ”
I explode with a shout, my cum splashing against the tiles and disappearing down the drain. The orgasm feels like it goes on forever, leaving my knees weak and shaking.
Samson growls, his arms wrapping around me and holding my weight as he chases his release.
I rest in his arms, floating as he fucks me. Even while finding his own pleasure, Samson is still looking after me.
I shouldn’t like it as much as I do. It’s dangerous.
His thrusts turn uneven and fevered as he pants my name like a prayer. A vow. He fills me, his cum marking the inside of me, just like he’s marked something deep in my chest.
Dangerous. He was right. Samson is dangerous.
The worst kind.
He stills, his body falling against me, his breath coming out uneven and stuttered. “Fuck. I needed that.”
“Me too,” I wheeze, trying to persuade myself that my heart is just hammering this hard from the exertion.
I know it’s a lie.
I can feel him spilling from my hole as I stand straight, my ass flexing as I try to hold it in.
“Let it out. I want to see,” he says, spreading my cheeks and staring at it.
I lean against the wall as he looks his fill. When he’s done, he spins me around, and his mouth falls on mine, tongue thrusting into me lazily.
We kiss like that until the steam drives us from the shower enclosure, the two of us stumbling into the bedroom, our skin still wet, my body shivering from the cold. It’s only then that he tucks a towel around my shoulders and helps me dry off.
And then we fall into bed, our naked bodies pressed against each other. We don’t bother making our way back down to game night, content to just stay in each other’s arms all night.
I don’t think about four days, or the fact that this feels right.
I just let myself exist in the moment, allowing myself to once again be distracted.
As detrimental as this will end up being.