Sam needed a few minutes to recover. Maybe more than a few minutes, because ‘Wow!’ Resting her cheek against Rik’s chest, she nuzzled against the damp curls and savored the sweet, potent scent of him—of them, together. Beneath her cheek, the rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his heart beating, soothed her as much as the gentle hands stroking through her hair and along the curve of her back.
Her eyes were still a little dazzled after the little light show Mr. Big Bang had displayed when he had come inside of her. Shit! No condom! She did some quick mental calculations, thankful she had kept up her birth control prescription even after her break-up with "The Bastard." Nope, she should be safe.
“Um,” she muttered against Rik’s chest, squirming a bit as she felt the heat of him still nestled within her core. A blush started rising up her chest, of course, and burned her cheeks as she leaned back to look up at him. She found Rik gazing down at her, his eyes warm but his own expression one of sheepish concern as he met her eyes. “I guess it’s a bit late, but I am on the pill, and I’ve got a clear bill of health.”
Burying her face once more against his chest, she sighed heavily and gave a weak chuckle, “I’ve never done that before…you know, the whole bare beast and all that. ‘No glove, no love’ was drilled into me by my father and brothers from birth.”
Feeling his chest shake, Sam tilted her head back up to find him laughing silently. When she huffed and made to pull back, Rik tightened his embrace and rolled over onto his back, pulling her until she was astride him. Resting his hands on her thighs, gently massaging them, he grinned up at her, a boyishly charming little grin that flashed a matching pair of dimples.
“Well, I’m not on any pills,” he said easily, his eyes twinkling in amusement, “And I’m healthy as a horse. No diseases, don’t do any drugs except for the occasional drink of alcohol, and I always…” He paused, tilting his head with a sheepish cant that had his bangs half-obscuring his face as he caught himself, “…almost always, practice safe sex. I have no children, and I don’t sleep around. So, we’ll chalk this up to a momentary lapse of judgment, okay?”
Sam found her hands had come to rest on Rik’s chest, the fingers of her right hand unconsciously stroking over the design she saw writhing to life over the left side of his pectoral. The vines had grown up over his shoulder, the knotwork becoming even more intricate and lifelike as they stretched down his arm nearly to his elbow. A quick glance at her own left arm showed the same intricate knotwork, likewise having expanded over her shoulder and down her arm, wrapping around the bicep as it grew in. Some of the roses had fully bloomed, warm ambers that edged to scarlet.
Glancing back at Rik, ready to finally have the discussion about what he was, Sam gasped in outrage. He’s snoring! The jerk fell asleep!
Needing some vindication in her outrage, Sam looked over to the chair Xalish was currently enthroned upon. The life-sized stuffed white wolf gazed placidly back at Sam. No, there was judgment in those glassy blue eyes!
“You’re right,” Sam muttered with a nod, “I should wake him up! He promised me more orgasms, dammit!”
When she had looked back down at Rik, ready to demand more orgasms, she was more amused than outraged. He was just too damned adorable, laying there with a contented smile on his face, dimples still on full display, with his hands resting on her thighs and all sprawled out naked beneath her—and that light snoring, a flaw in Mr. God’s Gift to the World, she would enjoy teasing him about.
After grabbing her glasses and placing them on the nightstand, Sam rested her cheek on his chest and relaxed. She had to admit, she was rather impressed that even though his penis had softened a little from its earlier state of mimicking a redwood, he was still half-hard and securely burrowed inside of her. Oddly enough, even though her thigh muscles ached and she was decidedly sore, she felt no urge to slip free of him. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into slumber.
Well, she tried to sleep, anyways. Just as she was about to drift off, she felt the sudden surge of heat as Rick’s penis throbbed to life within her. Rolled on to her side, his hand sliding up her thigh to hook it over his waist, he buried his face into the crook of her neck as he slowly rocked into her. Steadily, unhurriedly, he thrust, languidly lapping at her neck, massaging her breasts in his large, calloused hands. For a billionaire businessman, he had the long, strong fingers of someone used to working with them regularly, and as the calloused tips slid over her tender nipples she truly appreciated that.
When those hands suddenly clutched at her ass, pulling her tight into his increasingly urgent thrusts, Sam forgot everything as the flared head of his thick cock ground directly into the cluster of nerves that seemed to be connected to every other nerve in her entire body.
Sam pressed her face into his chest, her lips parting in a scream she muffled against the swell of his upper chest as she felt the burst of molten heat within her core as Rik held himself inside of her.
Again and again, throughout the night, the two would drift off, only for one or the other to move just the right way, and suddenly Rik’s valiant knight would be up for another charge, his lance truly mighty and unwavering in its quest to claim the ‘maiden.’
Sam had no idea when she had finally managed to pass out and fall into a dreamless slumber. Whether it had been from sheer exhaustion, or whether Rik had finally drained himself of all the life force held within the massive boulders nestled between his strong thighs, but she was grateful to get at least a little sleep.
She felt a lot less grateful, however, when there came a tapping, a rather loud rap-tap-banging, at her room door. She flailed, grabbing the pillow and covering her head as she tried to burrow back beneath the blankets.
“Sleepy!” Sam tried to shout out, but her voice was hoarse and barely above a croak.
The knocking continued.
Shave-and-a-haircut? REALLY?
Peeking out from beneath the blanket, she fumbled for her glasses, holding them up as she squinted through them at the clock on the bedside table.
7:02 AM the small clock proclaimed in a soft blue light. It was barely even light outside, dawn coming much later to the Estates with its location within the Rockies. Turning her head, she saw that she was alone in the bed, and the spot next to her was cool.
Meeting Xalish’s unwavering gaze, Sam muttered, “If he’s not in the bathroom, I’m going to kill him.” He had left. No note that she could see. Nothing. No evidence he had even been there, except the sticky mess and the throbbing ache between her legs. Oh, and the empty bed next to her. Fucker!
“Sorry, Mom,” Sam muttered her long-distance apology as she rolled out of bed.
When the knock came again, Sam gave up and hollered, “WHAT?”
“Avon calling!” Clara’s cheery voice rang out, way too bright and chipper.
Stumbling over to grab her robe from the arm of Xalish’s chair, the stuffed wolf was still giving her that judgmental look. Bitch. Continuing her ungraceful, and bowlegged—damned over-hung, over-sexed jerks—journey to the door, Sam banged her forehead against the heavy wood.
“If you don’t have coffee, then you’d better turn your perky, flat butt around and save yourself,” Sam growled through the door.
“I have a caramel macchiato with extra chocolate and extra espresso, as well as your purse,” Clara sang out through the door.
Sam tore the door open and snatched the steaming travel cup from Clara’s hands, quickly gulping twice and letting the hot, bittersweet nectar soothe the savage beast that woke up with Sam’s face.
Waving the giggling Clara in, Sam sat on her bed, trying to act casual as she delicately crossed her ankles and made sure her full-length, old and ratty flannel robe was securely covering her body.
Clara stopped abruptly as she stepped into the room. Her nose wrinkled delicately as she looked around—the sheets in wild disarray, the pile of clothing, Sam’s wild, tangled mass of hair—and covered her mouth and nose with a slender hand. Pointedly, she walked to the windows, yanked open the curtains and shoved them open to let in the cool, crisp mountain air. Inhaling deeply, giving Sam a pointed look, she picked up Xalish and plopped down in the armchair.
“So…?” Clara’s voice trailed off, the question dying on her lips at Sam’s glare over the rim of the coffee cup. Holding up a finger, Sam took a few more sips before she lowered the cup.
“Okay, you may speak now,” Sam allowed with regal dignity, much to Clara’s obvious amusement.
“So, you and my brother,” Clara said, waggling her eyebrows as she bounced Xalish on one knee. “Dish! But not any of the truly gory details, because ew…brother cooties!” She looked around the room once more. "Speaking of which, remind me to have room service thoroughly decontaminate your room."
“Your brother is a dick,” Sam snapped. “I mean, he was absolutely charming last night! And when we got back here, wow. Just wow, you know?” Sam looked up, an unwilling smile crossing her face. “It was incredible. I mean, I’ve had great sex before, my ex was no slouch, but Rik?”
Sam scowled, “But Rik…I woke up this morning, and there was no note, no Rik, nothing!
“I got played by the playboy, didn’t I?” Sam’s felt her shoulders slump, depression settling heavily on her. “I mean, I thought we were true mates, you know, like those romance books.”
Pinning Clara with a glare, Sam partially tugged open the left side of her robe. “I mean, hell, he branded me! And I saw his tattoo, too!” She waved her hand, “I mean, there was literal fireworks! The entire room glowed!”
“Aw, sweetie, maybe he’s getting you breakfast in bed or something?” Clara offered, placing Xalish on the ground between her feet as she crossed her arms and leaned forward. “Besides, Rik’s not exactly used to having a significant other. In all the time I’ve known him, he’s only had casual fuck buddies. He’s always kept them at arm’s length. And…” Clara snorted, hanging her head, “He’s an idiot. Plain and simple.”
Suddenly, Clara looked up and offered Sam a positively impish smile, “Look at it this way. He needs to be house broken and properly trained to the leash, like any wild dog.”
Feeling a burst of amusement, Sam actually chuckled and teased, “More like broken to the bit, hon…trust me, he’s more a stallion than a dog!”
Sam really shouldn’t have been surprised by the throw pillow that slapped the side of her head, but she was. Giggling like a madwoman, Sam held her cup protectively, “Hey! Watch it, woman!”
“Go get showered, you dirty, dirty girl!” Clara lifted the other pillow from behind her, holding it up threateningly with one hand while shooing Sam with the other. “We have a Village to check on, and you have a knight errant to track down and punish.”
With a salute—hey, her father had been a Marine, Sam knew how to salute properly—Sam finished up her coffee right quick, tossed the empty cup into the trash, and grabbed a change of clothes before she disappeared for a long, hot shower.
It’s going to be a long day, Sam thought ruefully as she stepped beneath the scorching hot water. Resting her forehead against the cool tiles, she groaned in relief as the heat soaked into her muscles and eased away some of the aches. A very long day.