Fifteen #3
I shivered hard. “Would you please just fuck me already?”
“Yeah?”
I got it then. It had taken me a minute because his nearness had short-circuited my brain. Even though he had told me I was special, he had to show me too. Show me that I wasn’t just the guy he wanted to screw, but the guy he wanted to make love to.
“Idiot,” I told him. “I know all about your heart already.”
The shuddering breath he took made me smile before he flipped me over onto my stomach and licked a wet trail down my spine.
“Sam, what’re you—”
“You taste like the ocean,” he growled, sucking, nibbling, until he reached my ass, spreading my cheeks before his tongue invaded me in a quick thrust into my body.
“Sam!” I yelled, jolting under the siege, the push deeper inside garbling the rest of my words.
His chuckle was evil as the thrusting became rhythmic, pushing, laving, as he used the hand not digging into my hip to tug gently on my cock.
“Gonna come.”
I writhed, twisted, and then gasped when he withdrew his tongue and replaced it with slippery, lube-slicked fingers.
I was so out of it, so far gone, that I hadn’t even heard the snick of the pop top of the bottle.
When he slid his fingers over my prostate, once and then again, I cried out his name before my body clenched tight and then came in a hurtling rush.
It was a splintering orgasm, and I would have collapsed if he hadn’t had his hands on me.
With his lips and his fingers and his tongue, he had driven me right out of my mind.
I spurted on the bed, my balls emptying in a shivering, consuming release that was still racking my body with aftershocks as Sam lifted my hips and buried himself to the hilt in my ass.
He hammered into me, hard and deep, and I begged him not to stop, never to stop. When he came minutes later, I felt the hot liquid heat fill my rippling channel and then run down the back of my thighs.
“So fuckin’ hot.”
“Sam?”
“Your body takes all of me and holds me tight and then quivers when we’re done. Do you have any idea how fuckin’ hot that is?”
His words were scorching, delivered in his low, seductive growl that brought tears to my eyes as he leaned over, pressed his chest to my back, and wrapped his arms around me tight.
“You’re shaking.” His voice was hoarse.
I could barely breathe.
Slowly, tenderly, he eased from my body that wanted to hold him, keep him close, and when my muscles released him, gone was that feeling of weight and fullness that I craved.
He rolled over onto his back and pulled me down into his arms, hugging me tight, burying his face in my hair. I trembled against him, and he held me until my body calmed and I stopped.
“You know, when we’re together like that, I can feel how much you love me, trust me. It’s a gift.”
I tilted my head back, and he kissed me, and it was tender and claiming and all that I needed. They were not the passionate, smothering kisses of earlier; the surging arousal was gone, replaced by the swell of feeling, the contentment of love.
I’d never loved any man before Sam Kage. There was only him for me.
“I love you.”
“Me too.”
He yawned, and I smiled wide.
He was exhausted and sated, and he had me warm and naked in his arms. It was time to take a nap.
“I should take a shower,” I said into the side of his neck.
He grunted.
I closed my eyes and gave up on the idea of moving.
Sam had ordered room service, and so we were both still naked, no showering had happened, and we were lying on the bed, talking, with platters of food between us.
The topics of conversation ranged from me and Dylan making another go at our business to Sam explaining about WITSEC—witness protection—and what that involved.
Since Sam’s old partner, Dominic Kairov, had been placed in the program and given a new identity, I told him I was surprised that they had let him become a deputy.
But apparently, the US Marshals Service was happy to have Sam Kage.
It wasn’t like the movies, and you couldn’t just look up anybody you wanted to.
You had to have a reason and clearance to go rummaging in files for people and cases that weren’t assigned to you.
“You always look so crushed,” he murmured, smiling at me, hand in my hair, thumb smoothing over my eyebrow, “when you find out that things aren’t like they are in the movies and on TV.”
I got to my hands and knees, leaned forward, and kissed him.
He opened for me, and I tasted him, his mouth, and sucked on his tongue.
When he broke the kiss and crawled up the bed, I followed.
He turned over, leaned back against the koa-wood headboard, and reached for me.
Grabbing for the lube, flipping open the cap, I was ready as I crawled into his lap, straddling his hips, slicking him quick and dirty before I fumbled behind me for his already-hardened shaft.
“Take me in.”
Lifting up, I lined his cock up with my hole and then slowly lowered myself over him until he was fully seated inside.
Impaled on the long, hard, thick length of him, I moaned deeply.
The man’s eyes were locked on mine, and as I rose up and eased back down, my muscles contracting around him, rippling, flexing tight and then relaxing, his breath got choppy.
I put my hands on his chest as he gripped my thighs and eased me forward. My head lolled back on my shoulders.
“I love watching you do this.”
I knew that.
“Nothing—oh,” he gasped, and a shiver raced through him that I felt and loved. “Jory,” he moaned as he wrapped his fingers around my cock and stroked me fast.
I came hard, spurting over his carved abdomen, and he bucked up into me, pressing me down at the same time; his grip on my thighs would leave the bruises that I coveted.
“Jory,” he whispered.
His lips were captured, ravaged, and devoured. He kissed me back until he had to pull free to gulp air into his lungs.
“We really gotta take a shower,” I said, chuckling as we panted together.
“You smeared lube all over my chest,” he reminded me.
“I didn’t want to wipe it on the sheets.”
“Why not? The sheets are trashed.”
I started laughing.
“We need water.”
And him drinking—after I poured him a glass, watching it run down his chin, off his jaw, run over his chest—was too much of a treat to leave.
“That was hot.”
“Me having water?”
“Yes,” I moaned.
I was under him seconds later, my appreciation translating to desire, and my legs were wrapped around him as he pressed his body to mine.
Infused with happiness because he was there, I kissed his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips.
His skin, the smell of him that clung to me, the feel of him in my arms …
I told him that I could die happy right then and there.
“No dying.” The sensual growl came again as he pushed his face against the side of my neck. “Just living.”
I cleared my throat because it was now or never. “What do you think about adopting, Sam?”
He lifted his head up and looked down at me. “I’m sorry?”
“I was thinking that I don’t want a surrogate or anything else that we’ve ever talked about because what I really want is to adopt. What do you think?”
His eyes searched my face. “I think that’s perfect. I’ve seen so many kids without fathers, and we could give a kid two.”
I nodded as tears filled my eyes and rolled back into my ears.
Strong, gentle hands brushed them away. “Why were you afraid to tell me you didn’t want a surrogate?”
“ ’Cause I thought you only wanted a child who shared some DNA with you, and I didn’t want to kill that dream if you wanted it that bad.”
He smiled down at me. “I don’t give a crap about that. A kid doesn’t have to look like me for me to love them. The only thing that matters is that I’ll have my own family with you, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I nodded fast.
“You get that, right?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, so …” He arched an eyebrow at me. “When we get home, we can get the adoption process started, huh?”
“I think we should. I’m gonna be thirty.”
“In three years,” he reminded me.
“Yeah, but still.”
He rolled his eyes before he bent and hugged me so tight that I squeaked.
“That was adorable.”
It was my turn to growl at him.
Together, we ran outside in the moonlight, naked, and jumped in the ocean, but we weren’t far from the beach and were back inside a half hour or so later. There was showering and sex and sleeping and waking and more sex and more food, and then, finally, we both passed out sometime after midnight.
With my body sated, my brain finally shut down, and because Sam was spooned around me, plastered to my back, I slept like I never had when he was away.