Chapter Eleven

 

“So, we’re gonna to take this one small step at a time,” Wade said as he opened his front door and guided her inside. He put the paper bag on the kitchen island and turned to her. “Because I plan to spend a lifetime getting to know what, exactly, turns you on. Where I can touch, or lick, or suck, or bite to get you off.”

Sam’s knees wobbled. He held out a hand, and she took it. “You have to trust me. I will never, ever, hurt you in ways you don’t want.” He took her other hand but didn’t pull her close, just kept her pinned with those deep, mocha-dark eyes.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. And she was, but at the same time, fascinated and unbelievably horny. It was as if every inch of her skin was an erogenous zone. Everywhere Wade touched her made her want to climax. “But I will trust you.”

He nodded. They stood in the kitchen of the house she was going to sell for him, joined only by their hands. “I’ve never felt this way, Sam. And it scares me too.”

She gulped, her resistance to him crumbling even further. He let go of her hands and slid the straps of her dress down her shoulders. “I want to see you, all of you, right now.” His voice dropped to a lower octave, husky with need and command.

She gave the fabric a tug and the thing ended up in a puddle of silk at her feet. When she tried to step out of her shoes, he held up a hand, raking her bare flesh with his hungry gaze. “Leave those on,” he said. “And don’t move.”

She stood, shivering, as he circled her, letting his fingertips trail along her shoulders, down her spine, around her waist and up to her nipples.

“Oh,” she gasped when he flicked them. Hard.

He reached into her hair and released it down her back. Pins clattered to the floor. “Don’t ever put it up,” he said, his gaze getting darker every minute. “I want it down all the time, so I can do this anytime I want.” He slid one hand into her hair, then gripped it so her head was forced back. Simultaneous pinpricks of pain and pleasure hit her nipple and her neck, making her knees buckle. He backed her against the cool island top, his teeth on her neck and his fingers pinching her nipple.

“Shit,” she gasped, as her hips began moving. “Oh . . . Jesus, Wade,” she gasped when he pinched harder, hard enough to hurt before he let go and leaned away from her.

“Not until I tell you, Sam, remember?”

She nodded, but she hurt between her legs, she needed a release so badly. “Please,” she whispered.

“No begging. Not unless I tell you to.”

She nodded again, not even sure who she was anymore. But feeling so utterly perfect right now, she’d do anything for him. She knew, somehow, he wouldn’t hurt her, physically or emotionally.

He stood back from her, one hand on his jeans’ zipper. “I want you so badly right now, Samantha Jean,” he rasped.

“Then take me,” she said.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s not how I do this.”

Something compelled her to move forward, to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close. “We have time, Wade,” she said, pressing her lips to his sweaty neck, loving the salty taste of him on her tongue, the crispness of his shirt against her bare skin. “You can teach me anything you want. But now, I think we both need one thing.”

She reached down to pop open the button on his jeans. He was shaking so hard she stopped and gripped his shoulders.

“Look at me, Wade,” she said.

He kept shaking his head, not meeting her eyes. “I can’t do this, Sam. I . . . I did this once before, and it fucking ruined me.”

“Wade,” she insisted, grabbing his chin and making him turn to look at her. “I am not her. I promise. We’re all grown up now. We can both let go of our shitty pasts.”

He frowned and put his hands on his hips. “I like being in—”

She smiled and unzipped his jeans, reaching into his underwear for his cock. “I know, baby, I know. You like to be in control. But you know what I think?” Using the natural lubrication of his pre-cum, she stroked him as she pressed her lips to his neck. “I think you want inside me, right now. Am I right?”

He nodded. She let him go and stood back, and that bizarre possessive feeling took hold of her as she observed him from head to toe—craggy, handsome face, massively broad shoulders, trim waist, and that gleaming, giant, hard dick.

Hers. All hers.

She smiled and leaned back against the island again.

With something approximating a roar, he lunged for her, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed with pleasure when he dumped her down on the bed and dove between her legs, tugging her clit into his mouth and shoving fingers inside her, reaching high and making her go almost blind with the need to orgasm. But she held back, remembering his words.

He rose, his lips wet, his eyes bright. “Nice work,” he said. “Good girl. My very good girl.” He stepped out of his jeans and underwear, and then took off his shirt, standing in all his naked glory, reminding her of the first time she’d laid eyes on him in the same condition. But this time, he was hers.

She licked her lips but stayed still, shaking and sweaty and ready to come, but willing to do what he told her—knowing when she did allow herself that release, it would be earth-shattering. To her surprise, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up, then turned them so he dropped down beneath her on the bed. The heat of his erection against her made her want to cry. The smell of him, the taste of his skin, his lips, his tongue, dizzied her in a swirl of sensations.

“Take me however you want me, Sam,” he said. “And I have never said that to any woman, so you’d better—holy shit,” he cried out and arched his back when she took him deep inside her, grinding down against his pubic bone. Her body was on fire as he reached up and pinched both her nipples at once. She heard herself scream at the split second a bright flash of lightning flickered, followed by a chest-rattling clap of thunder.

“Come for me,” Wade growled, pinching harder. “Come now, Samantha.” She let the storm inside her loose as the one outside the house raged. He cried out as he released her nipples and dug his fingertips into her ass, thrusting up and filling her with a loud groan and full body shudder.

They kept moving together as the heavens opened up and rain pounded against the windows and roof. Sam dropped down onto Wade’s chest, listening to the wild pounding of his heart, its rapid rhythm matching hers perfectly. Her body felt slow and languid with satisfaction. She slid off him and tucked into his side, sensing his lips on her hair.

“I should clean up,” she said.

“Mmm hmm,” he said, stroking her arm. The room flickered, and the thunder boomed and crashed. Sam draped one leg over Wade’s with one arm over his firm chest, never more relaxed in a man’s arms. While part of her tried to resist it, a bigger, stronger part of her said just go with it as she drifted toward sleep.

 

**

 

Wade sat in a large leather chair next to the bed, water bottle in one hand, his eyes never wavering from her—from Samantha. His Sam. He reached over at one point and tucked a lock of her jet black hair behind her ear, then leaned down and kissed her nose.

What a sap, he thought, as he drained the water bottle and looked out over his lawn, which was getting a serious drenching from the first hard rain they’d had in weeks. The night had not progressed at all as he’d planned. He had a whole playroom set up, but not in here, not his bedroom. He’d figured on keeping it separate, showing her a massively good time with his self-professed control skills—and his handcuffs, blindfolds, light flogger and nipple clamps. He’d get her off, multiple times, get inside her and finish. Then he could call it a night.

Right. Nice try, cowboy.

He smiled into the dark when she mumbled and rolled onto her back, throwing her arm over her face. The sheet slid down, exposing one delicious nipple. They’d been so wonderfully sensitive, he mused as he reached over and teased it to a harder peak. To his surprise, his own body started rising to the occasion. She shivered and opened one eye.

“I’m thirsty,” she said.

“On it,” he said, getting up and adjusting his dick under his shorts before getting her a cold water bottle from the kitchen. She was sitting up and rubbing her eyes, looking so perfect and at home in his bed, it made him think crazy thoughts about keeping her there. He handed her the water.

As she drank it down, he kissed her bare shoulder, working his way up her neck.

“Sorry,” he said when she set the empty on the bedside table and turned to him, wrapping her whole gloriously bare body around his.

“For what?” she asked, sighing when he buried his fingers in the silky tumble of her hair.

“For coming so fast. Jesus, I was like a teenager or something. I owe you.”

“I’ll get it back, I think.”

“Mmm hmm,” he muttered as he pressed her back onto the massive pile of pillows and started sucking her nipples, unable to resist them another second. “Wait,” he said, getting up and heading into the next room, looking around until he found what he wanted. When he returned, she grinned at the object in his hand. “Let’s play, darlin’.”

She nodded, and he dropped beside her again, latching onto her nipple and flicking on the vibrator at the same time, running it up and down the inside of her thigh, then over her other nipple, loving the noises she made, and the way her smell and taste changed as she got hornier. Her hips moved and thrust up. Her leg spread as he teased her, keeping his mouth on one nipple.

Her hands grasped the sheets as she moaned. “Inside me, Wade, please . . .”

He grinned against her flesh. “Not yet, tiger. Not yet.” He shifted between her legs. “Pinch those nipples for me. Both hands, that’s right.” He shut his mind to the increasing sound of the rain and the thunder as it continued to boom through the house. The vibrator was a small one but perfectly shaped, and he used it to tease her clit, watching with fascination as her pussy pulsed when he drew her closer to orgasm.

Her hips were bucking up against him now, and it was all he could do not to toss the damn device aside and plow into her. But he loved to watch a woman come, and he wanted Sam to do it under his gaze and his attention. She was moaning now, still pinching her nipples, her legs spread wide. Wade leaned over and took the sweet nub of her clit between his lips as he slid the perfectly shaped vibrator inside her, sensing her inner muscles grip it tight, smelling her orgasm as it powered its way up and out.

“Wade,” she cried out. “I need . . . to . . .”

He let go of her clit and tilted the device inside her, reaching up behind her pubic bone. “Come, baby,” he said before dropping back down so he could taste her when she climaxed. A loud clap of thunder split the air with her loud cry of pleasure. Her sweet fluid coated his hand as her pussy clenched the vibrator in contractions of pleasure.

“Oh, my God,” she sighed, relaxing as he tossed the vibrator aside and dropped down next to her, his aching dick pressed against her thigh. “Oh, my God,” she repeated, blinking up at the ceiling. He turned her face to his. “Oh, my . . . God,” she murmured as he slanted his lips over hers, giving her a taste of herself but resisting the urge to climb on top of her and finish.

The kiss was like a living, breathing thing between them and he lost himself in it, tasting the contours of her mouth and admitting to himself that he could very well kiss Samantha Jean Weaver forever. She reached down and stroked his cock, making him shudder and groan into her mouth.

“I want to taste you now,” she muttered, breaking the kiss and shoving him onto his back. “That work for you?”

He nodded, watching as she flicked her tongue around the edges of his head, teasing him and making his hips move the way hers had a few minutes before. Wade loved a great blow job. He always had. And Miss Sam had some skills—oh yes, she did, he noted as she took him deep, opening her throat and swallowing him while sliding a cum-slickened finger under his balls.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and closed his eyes as she released him, then swallowed him again, all the while inching her finger closer to his ass. “Do it,” he hissed, tightening his grip on her hair. When she reached inside and stroked his gland, he cried out and shot what felt like a gallon of cum down her throat.

She released him, pulled her finger out, and then headed for the bathroom, leaving him panting and heaving and hip deep in the realization that he may very well be in love for the second time in his life.

When she returned, wiping her hands on a towel, her eyes gleaming, he held out an arm, and she tucked into his side, fitting against him in a way that made him want to keep her there forever. He kissed her hair and drifted off, praying that she wasn’t a dream.

“That was some fun play,” she whispered as he headed into la-la land. He held her tighter.

“I love you,” he heard himself whisper, then let the darkness take him.