My thighs clench. Dangerously.
Before I can answer, he nips the curve of my neck, right below my ear, and I squeak an actual noise that bursts out of me before I can stop it.
From the hallway, Phern shouts, “I’m still here, you know!”
I slap a hand over my face as Sam bursts out laughing, burying his face in my shoulder.
“I swear to god,” I groan, “she’s everywhere.”
“She’s got a sixth sense for foreplay,” he mutters, still chuckling.
I shove at him half-heartedly, trying not to laugh. “Well, now I need a new plan for staying entertained.”
He pulls back just enough to look down at me, eyes still gleaming, voice dropping a notch. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a few.”
My stomach flips. “And they don’t require electricity?”
“Nope.” He leans in again, his lips brushing mine. “Just imagination. And maybe some rope.”
My knees nearly give out, and Sam doesn’t miss it. His hand tightens on my waist, steadying me like he planned this. Like he lives for watching me unravel one breath at a time.
“Rope?” I ask, already breathless.
“Mmmhmm,” he hums, low and dangerous, his mouth just grazing the corner of mine. “I’ve got some in the tack room. Soft. Strong. Meant for training wild things.”
My pulse slams in my throat. I glance toward the hallway, instinctively checking for signs of Phern. The coast is clear.
I lean in, lips brushing his jaw, my voice barely a whisper. “Tell me more.”
Sam stills for half a second like he’s checking himself, deciding if he’s about to say something dangerous. But the look in his eyes?
Oh, he’s going there.
“I’d tie your wrists,” he murmurs, so soft only I can hear it. “Nothing tight. Just enough to keep you still.”
My breath stutters.
“I’d spread you out nice and slow,” he continues, “anchor the rope to the bedposts. Keep you open. Helpless. And then I’d just watch you.”
“Watch me?”
He nods, his nose brushing mine. “Watch you squirm. Watch you beg. Take my time until you’re soaked and desperate and aching for it.”
My thighs squeeze together. He feels it because his grin turns sharp and smug.
“I wouldn’t even touch you at first,” he goes on, voice likevelvet and sin. “Just run my mouth over every inch. Breathe on you. Whisper all the filthy things I’m gonna do when I finally let myself fuck you again.”
“Jesus,” I breathe.
“You asked,” he says, tilting his head. “Want me to stop?”
I shake my head. Fast.
“Didn’t think so.”
He takes a step back, just enough to leave me standing there, flushed and wrecked, heart pounding in my throat.
Then he tosses me a wink. “Better be careful what you ask for next time, darlin’. You might just get it.”
