SIX
SAM
My entire body sighs in pure relief when our mouths meet.
My emotions are still heightened after the last half hour, but I can feel my earlier turmoil calming, my heart beating harder but slower, settling into a rhythm that is unhurried, languid. Hotter.
A rhythm that matches Devon’s.
He kissed my tears.
He saw how upset I was when I saw the mess I’d made of my shirt without even realizing it, and made it all better.
He soothed me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And the way he nuzzled my nape…
I melt with every pull of his lips on mine, to the point I can barely keep myself standing when he slides inside, and kisses me deep—so deep that I feel him in my core.
He makes me feel cared for, branded. Claimed.
No kiss can actually do that, but if it could, it would be this one. It would be his.
That’s what I want to believe.
I want to believe he’s claiming me even if he’s not. Right now, all I want is to feel like I belong to him. Like he belongs to me, too. Just for a little while.
I moan around his tongue, and a guttural growl rumbles in his chest. I shiver at the animalistic sound, wanting more of it, needing to hear it again and again.
My legs are shaking, but I don’t have to worry about collapsing, because Devon grips my thighs and lifts me on his desk as if he’s read my mind.
There is a loud clatter as several objects land on the floor and we’re suddenly plunged in darkness, but I feel his smile against my own before he dives into me again, grinding between my spread legs.
God, he feels so good. So big, so hard. So desperate. I’m so slick for him. Only for him.
I pull him harder against me, fisting his hair, and sucking on his tongue as if I need it to live.
At this point, I probably do.
His groan reverberates inside me as he touches every place he can reach—gripping my throat, clasping my waist, massaging my thighs bracketing his hips.
And I love it. I love that he wants to touch every part of me.
It makes me burn with need for him.
“Sammy…” he rasps against my mouth, and an embarrassing whimper escapes me before I can stop it.
His eyes glow silver when he pulls back, a feral grin stretching his lips, and even though the room is now much darker than before, the city lights from the large windows are more than enough to see him perfectly well.
“You like it, don’t you? You like being Sammy for me. ”
I nod, craning my neck to feel his lips on mine again.
My mind is way hazier after he’s fed me his tongue one more time.
“I love it. I want to hear it all the time.”
A shuddery breath leaves me when Devon squeezes my nape firmly, and I drown in his steely gaze.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to me when I can barely control myself around you.”
“Why do you need to control yourself around me?”
His expression darkens, his voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it when he speaks.
“Because I’d have you on my cock 24/7 if I didn’t,” he confesses in a tortured whisper. I’m trembling as he gathers me closer and his eyes soften. “I need to be inside you again, Sammy. I’ve never needed anything more. I’m fucking starving for you.”
Starving. For me.
My heart is beating so loud, I have no idea how he can’t hear it.
Maybe because his is beating just as loud under my palm on his chest.
“Lock the door, Devon.”
His eyes burn into me as he steps back, his hands releasing me last with a reluctance that makes me ache. I feel the loss of his touch immediately.
I slide off his desk as he heads to the door, getting rid of my clothes the only thing on my mind.
But when my hands reach for the buttons of the shirt, I freeze, my anticipation waning, and my body tensing when I think of what’s underneath.
Maybe I can keep it on. He can still fuck me if I just take off my pants and underwear.
Yes, it’ll be fine. He doesn’t have to see me like this.
He can’t see me like this.
I don’t realize I’m just standing there, staring at the floor as my mind spirals. At least, not until strong arms wrap gently around me.
“What is it?”
I swallow as I feel him press the question to my temple, my throat tightening at the softness of his gesture.
My fingers tighten reflexively on the fabric of the shirt he gave me, on his shirt, my eyes fixed on his hard chest, unable to get the words out.
He doesn’t push me, doesn’t demand I tell him in his usual, playfully impatient way. He simply waits for me, holding me against him, his warmth sinking into me from our many points of contact.
“I don’t want you to see me naked.” The admission slips out in a voice so thin and fragile, I instantly hate it. But I can’t help what is true. “I’m not the same. My body, it’s—” Different. Changed. Worn out.
Ruined.
Devon tenses, his arms tightening around me, almost as if I spoke the last word out loud. His eyes are blazing when he pulls back so he can look at me. But it’s not anger, or even heat I see staring back at me.
Understanding, and something fiercely tender burns in them. It makes my chest hurt in a way it’s never hurt before.
“Do you trust me?” he asks in his low, deep timbre, and the answer is just there—no doubt, no hesitation.
I’ve trusted you since the very first night I spent with you.
“Yes,” I say simply, and he loves my answer, his eyes sparkling with such deep contentment, I can’t look away.
Not when he looks at me like that.
Not when he takes a step back.
Not when he goes down on one knee in front of me.
His large shoulders fill my vision, and my heart stutters when he reaches for the thin, leather laces of my shoe. He loosens them enough so he can slip it off me, and repeats the same motions with the other.
He’s undressing me. My boss, this powerful alpha who commands an entire company, is taking his time undressing me. Making sure I’m comfortable.
His eyes lock with mine as he works my slacks open, the waistband covered by his much larger shirt. His gaze is soft but intense in the faint moonlight stealing through the windows, but it sharpens when his fingers grip the band of both my pants and briefs, grazing the sensitive skin.
A small, relieved whimper falls from my parted lips when he begins to slide everything off me, cool air hitting my heated body while his touch leaves behind trails of fire.
I’m naked but for his own shirt when he’s done, but I feel no embarrassment, no self-consciousness. Not when Devon’s breathing changes as he slowly loses his composure. Not when his silver gaze devours me whole from his spot on his knees for me.
No. I only feel hot—need pooling in my belly, my cock so hard it tents the shirt’s light-blue material, my hole so slick that warmth drips down my thighs.
I know he can scent my need for him when his nostrils flare and he hisses, his eyes shining with a predatory glint that makes me shiver.
He’s lifting me up in his arms before I can even let out a surprised yelp, shooting me a smug grin that sends a zing of electricity through me.
God, he picked me up like it was nothing, carrying me across the office to the leather couch with an ease that has the words slipping out of me.
“I love how strong you are.”
His steps halt right next to the couch, but he doesn’t release me. Instead, the grip he has under my knees and around my back gets even tighter, his face leaning closer to mine.
“Yeah?” he rasps, his lips capturing mine in a slow, lazy kiss that makes my brain fuzzy.
“Mhm.” I nod, tilting my head for more, which he gives me, sucking my lips a bit harder this time. They feel so tingly when I try to speak. “It makes me feel safe.” I crane my neck to kiss the hard line of his jaw, whispering my next words on his rough skin. “It makes me so wet for you.”
His hold turns bruising, and my toes curl at the mere idea of bearing his marks on my body.
“Will you show me, Sammy?” He mouths the question against my temple, pressing the naked longing of his words to my skin. “Please show me. I want to see everything.”
I know he’s not just talking about what I whispered to him.
And I want it. I want to show him everything. God, I want it so much.
“Okay,” I mutter softly, and his harsh exhale feels so warm against my face.
His hands flex on my body before he sets me down on the couch, placing me gently on the leather cushions until I’m lying on my back, peeking up at him.
“Will you show me too, Devon?” I ask quietly, almost under my breath, but he hears me.
And my heart flutters violently in my chest at the smile he gives me.
“I’ll show you anything you want.”
I let myself sink further into the plush cushion, enveloped by the crisp, soapy scent of Devon’s shirt, wondering what it would be like to wear a shirt that still smells like him.
His eyes never leave me, tracking every movement I make, and I can’t resist teasing him.
“Anything?” I ask, biting my lip to keep from smiling too hard as my gaze roams over every thick muscle, over every inch of his strong body, before it locks with his again.
His grin almost makes my heart stop.
My mouth dries when his hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, deftly unclasping them all, and revealing miles and miles of golden skin.
No memory can do justice to seeing him again like this, to watching him rid himself of all his clothes until he’s just shamelessly standing there. Tall. Strong. Hard.
He’s so hard.
My cheeks are flaming hot, and when I look up and see his wolfish grin, I know he didn’t miss my extremely appreciative perusal of his body.
But then his grin softens as the seconds tick by, and it’s somehow worse, because my chest hurts just looking at it.
“Make room for me?” he says, the words barely out of his mouth before I’m reaching for him, pulling him over me, and he’s settling between my legs, covering me completely.
A shiver goes through me when his cock slides against mine, and a moan breaks free when I tilt my hips and rub against him.
Devon pushes more of his weight on me to stop my movements, but it only makes me gasp at the sensation, my nails digging into his sides.