Chapter 8

Samson

The night settled through the house and shrouded the four-poster bed in the room, hiding Blair’s face from mine. The only indication she was still in the room was the chattering of her teeth and the occasional. “Fa-fa-uck it’s cold.”

Wind whipped the sides of the Scott mansion, and snow ticked against the windows. I sat on the edge of the mattress and clunked off my boots. “Get naked,” I said. “Only way we’ll warm up is skin to skin.”

Skin to skin. That was exactly what I needed. A little one on one time with my virgin.

Blair rustled and thumped on the other side of the bed. She swore under her breath, then unzipped something.

“Candles?” I asked.

“In the be-e-d-side table.”

I opened the drawer and felt around inside. My fingertips brushed cold wax and the box of matches next to it. I brought both out, drew a striker out of the box, and lit it – a thwack-hiss as it took, and the flame flickered in the dark.

I held it to the wick of the candle, then placed it on the side table. “Better?”

Blair dove beneath the sheets, flashing a bare butt cheek and section of thigh. “N-no.”

I stripped off my shirt, my jeans, and dropped them on the boards, then got under the covers with her.

“So c-cold,” she said, and slithered toward me.

I tugged her body against mine, rested my chin on top of her forehead, and inhaled. “Jesus, your toes are cold,” I said.

She laughed and pressed them against my calves. “That’s what you get for making me go out in the cold.”

“Blair, I don’t think anyone can make you do something you don’t want to do.”

She sighed and actually kissed the hollow at the base of my neck.

I stroked a line down her spine, relishing the softness of that skin, and her hitched breaths. “You’re not shivering anymore.”

“I am,” she whispered. “It’s just not from the cold.”

I drew back, just enough to catch a glimpse of her face, lit by the flickering flames of our lonely candle. It cast shadows on her cute button nose, and her cupid’s bow, that sexy curve on her top lip.

Blair ran her hands down my chest, then scraped them back up again. Her scent mingled with mine, no perfume, just pure skin. There were hours yet until the sun rose, hours of the candle, the storm, and us under these sheets.

I wouldn’t fall asleep with this woman pressed against my chest.

“Samson,” she said, and cut off again.

“Say it,” I replied and kissed her forehead, then the bridge of her nose. Wet, warm kisses. I nuzzled her nose with mine, gentle as I could be. She had to understand that this would be as soft as that.

I’d never had a virgin before. Her first time and my first virgin.

“Samson, I – I want you,” she whispered.

I kissed her, and she parted her lips, greedy for more of our touch. I tasted her, plumbed the depths of her mouth with my tongue, massaged her and probed, tipped her head back to better access her.

Our kiss deepened and slowed, and a furnace built beneath the covers. My dick ached to be inside her, hot and hard again. I throbbed against her velvety smooth skin.

I broke the kiss, then moved to her neck and earlobe, nibbling the sweet spots that would surely send her over the edge, make her as crazy for me as she’d been the other night when I’d eaten her.

Tonight would be different.

I wouldn’t taste her. I’d devour her whole.

“Samson,” she whispered. “Samson, I – oh, god.”

“You need me,” I said.

“Yes.”

“You need me inside you.”

“Yes, please.”

I sucked on her neck, bit, then released. I rolled on top of her, pinned her arms on either side of her head with mine, and stared deep into her eyes.

My dick pressed against the top of her mound, dripping pre-cum onto her belly.

“If I take you now, Blair…”

“What?” Those lips, made for kissing and sucking, quivered. “What?”

“You’re mine.”

She inhaled – a sharp breath, halfway to a moan. “Yours?”

“I’m claiming you.” All the initial resistance had boiled down to this moment. All of her hesitation and fear had dissolved. “As mine.”

“Oh, god.” She struggled up but I held her in place, gentle but firm. “Kiss me,” she gasped. “Samson, kiss me, please.”

I reached between us and shifted my dick, used its head to scoop up her wetness. I swept it between her lips and up to her clit, then worked my hips, grinding into her, slowly. Finally, I lowered my head and kissed her again.

She opened up to me again, each kiss more desperate than the last, punctuated by little gasps.

I slid my dick toward her entrance and rested it there. She was slick, her desire dripping from her pussy and coursing over my skin.

“Now,” she said, against my lips. “Please, I can’t wait any longer. I can’t stand another second. Please!”

I pressed into her, slowly, easing my thick cock into her tightness. And damn, was she tight. Christ, I barely managed to squeeze into her. She gave way in increments, opening to me, accepting my girth, my length.

I pulsed, and she cried out, eyes wide – but not a hint of hesitation. She grabbed fistfuls of my hair, lifted her legs, and wrapped them around my trunk.

“Easy,” I said, more to myself than her. I never lost control but Blair brought me close to the edge of it.

Pressure inside her tight cunt, a moment of hesitation, and I pushed through, burying myself inside her, as deep as I could go.

“Oh!” she yelped.

“Hurting you?”

“No,” she said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

I pulled my dick out, back to her entrance, and forced it back in again, her walls closing in on me again, massaging me and sending streaks of pleasure through me. I thrust into her slow, building our desire, piling it on with strokes deep and then shallow.

Blair dug her fingernails into my scalp and I bent my head, kissed her collar bone, balanced on one elbow and squeezed her breast with my other hand.

She moaned again, louder this time, and I didn’t stop her.

I suckled on her flesh and increased the pace, pressing my cock into her faster now, desperate to claim her, fully.

Blair slapped her hands onto my back, ran them down my muscles, took hold of my ass and moved with me. She threw her head back, exposing the pale flesh of her neck by the candlelight, and growled – a low, feral noise that spoke to the animal within me.

“More,” she said. “More. I want more. I want all of it.”

I thrust into her, to the hilt.

Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her tits bounced in time with each of my strokes.

I sat back on my heels in the bed and grasped her hips, pulled her toward me, and plunged deep again.

Blair threw her arms up, planted her feet on the bed, and watched me, eyes wide, mouth open, her dark hair fanned out on the white pillow, an angel in the snow. Each thrust brought another moan or breath, another reason to make her come yet again.

I pressed my thumb to her clit and circled it as I’d done with my tongue before.

She jerked her hips upward but I kept her steady, leaned into her body and thrust deeper. I set up our new rhythm, created the flow that built ecstasy, took us both higher and higher.

Blair’s vision glazed over, and her jaw slackened. She was close.

Her pussy throbbed, squeezing my dick.

“Come for me,” I said. “Come for me, Blair. Come on my cock.” I decreased the pressure on her clit but kept circling, tickling her, teasing her closer to the brink.

“Oh, god, oh, Samson. I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!” And she broke to pieces in my hands, jammed into me, threw her head to one side, tugged on one of the pillows, and tightened on my dick.

Her cunt tingled and pulsed, her body vibrated, bouncing up and down with every wave of her climax.

I studied her reaction, allowed my own pleasure to build to the breaking point, then released into her, squirted deep, claiming her, my virgin, my Blair. One, two, three, four, Christ, five pulses, and each accompanied by a grunt from me, and another moan from her.

I held her in place on my dick and pressed my palm to the flat of her abdomen. I throbbed two more times, and she responded by tightening around me.

“Wow,” Blair whispered. “Wow. Can you just – can you stay inside me?”

“For a little while.” I chuckled and ran my hands up and down her smooth thighs. I held her like that, me on my knees, still inside her for a minute longer, then laid her out straight, kissed her stomach, and lay down beside her.

She snuggled closer to me, rested her head against my chest, and exhaled. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Her first time.

Blair was mine now, in every way. I’d shared her first time, taken her. My heart thudded – I wasn’t big on emotion but the way she looked, lying here, her hair tangled, and her lips pouty and pressed outward, eyelids fluttering as she fell into a deep sleep, fucked with my resolve.

I brushed my fingers across her forehead, painted her face with them, a long line down her nose, one under either eye, and she smiled.

“You’re sweet,” she whispered and snuggled closer to me.

And you’re my girl now. The potential was great – I could teach her everything she didn’t know about sex. Show her the real meaning of satisfaction and what she deserved. One entire weekend with her. Shit, what else would I have been doing?

Working? Going over the books? I’d planned on spending Christmas alone, slamming back beers – not eggnog – and playing Dark Souls on my Xbox. This option was far superior. Far less boring.

And the excitement had only begun.

Usually you’re bored by now. Why aren’t you bored?

I dismissed the question and settled back against the pillows, pulling Blair onto my chest.

Outside, the storm beat against the house, threatening the wood and windows, but it couldn’t reach us here.