I can’t help but grin at the feral gleam in his eyes. “You’re a closet dom, aren’t you?”
“Actually, no.” He unbuttons and unzips me before removing my pants and boxers with a few determined tugs. “My love for the sharp sound of leather would suggest otherwise, but there’s no dom in me.” My shoes and socks slide off and then he straightens, meeting my gaze. “There’s no sub in me, either. So you know.”
I nod, agreeing with the second part. I get the feeling that kind of vulnerability would make Sam antsy, which wouldn’t be a turn on for either of us. But watching his gaze rake over my naked body, the way it lingers on my straining cock, does makes me doubt the rest of his self-assessment. The obvious enjoyment he’s getting from taking charge with me is a dead giveaway. Not to mention, it’s hot as fuck. Submissive is not a role I’ve ever played, but I can imagine giving in to the not-so-subtle hint of dom in Sam. My eyes damn near roll back in my head at the thought and I fist the covers in an effort to stay where I am.
“Perfect.” Sam’s quiet murmur barely registers, but I look down in time to watch as he licks a glistening drop of pre-come from the tip of my throbbing cock. My mouth opens on a throaty cry and I thread my fingers through his hair.
With a rumbling sigh, he takes me deep into his wet mouth, licking me all over before sucking me to the back of his throat at a leisurely pace. An endless stream of babbled nonsense falls out of me, about how good he feels, how badly I need him. All of it interspersed with muttered swearing and needy moans.
It all ends the second his exploring fingers find my opening. The words in my throat fragment, my body stills, all my attention zeroes in on that one point where he’s brushing back and forth, oh-so-gently, across the tight ring of muscle.
Snapping my eyes open, I look down. Sam kneels between my legs. His powerful mouth bobbing up and down on my cock, his hand moving between my arse cheeks. He’s naked. I don’t even remember him taking off the rest of his clothes. Nor do I remember him stopping to get out a condom and lube, yet there they are beside us. Apparently, putting myself at Sam’s mercy has stripped me of my ability to be an attentive lover. He looks up at me and the molten heat in his gaze assures me he doesn’t mind.
I sit up, wanting his mouth on mine once more, needing the closeness he so effortlessly provides. He releases my cock with one last, mind-blowing suck before his lips find mine. He invades my mouth and I groan as I taste myself on his tongue.
He moves further onto the mattress, hooking my thighs up over his. Barely releasing my mouth, he grabs the bottle of lube and then his fingers return to my hole. There’s no gentle pressure this time. Instead, he pushes two slick fingers inside, capturing my cry of pleasure in his open mouth.
“So tight.” His eyes are all over me, eager and aware. “Want to be inside you.”
“Yes,” I gasp, surprised at my own ready agreement with whatever he wants. I’m used to being in charge during sex, no matter which position I take. Now, it seems every shred of control has deserted me. I have no idea who I am with Sam. I can’t think, I can’t take over, all I can do is feel. “In.” It’s the only word I manage to spit out. Combined with the way I’m pulling my legs back against my chest in invitation, it’s pretty damned obvious what I’m hungry for. Sam’s cock. Filling me. Pounding me. Chasing the emptiness away.
Foil rips and Sam urges me back down to the mattress, coming with me, covering me. I wind my arms around his neck and suck his tongue into my mouth, desperate to have as much of him as I can get. My need for him, the intensity of it, is becoming physically painful.
He pushes inside me and I shudder with relief. A short laugh punches out of me. Unexpected, belly deep and cathartic as all fuck.
I can’t imagine what I must look like. With my head thrown back, my knees practically around my ears and a goddamned manic grin plastered all over my face. When I glance at Sam, he’s grinning, too, so it must be okay.
“So fucking good,” I moan in delight. “Fuck, Sam.”
His gaze roams my face as he works his way into me with slow, measured thrusts. “Tris,” he whispers, his expression the very picture of gentle devotion. Then he thrusts deep, nailing my prostate.
“Holy fucking Christ,” I yell as my whole body spasms ecstatically. Maybe his devotion isn’t always so gentle, after all.
Sam lets out a few guttural chuckles of his own. “I like that,” he mutters. “Let’s do it again.” He nails me a second time, a third, over and over until I see stars.
The smiles and laughter ebb as we fall into sync with each other, our movements an ever-increasing furore of violent affection. My balls draw tight as the pressure builds and I work a hand between us to grab hold of my aching cock.
My eyes close. My mouth falls open. Almost there.
Sam’s forehead touches mine. “Stay with me,” he demands, hoarsely. “Open.”
Snapping my eyes open, I meet his gaze. See his dilated pupils and ruddy cheeks. I smell his clean sweat and the musky scent of sex enveloping us. I feel his cock moving inside me, his arms around me, his body over me. “Sam.”
My orgasm bursts through me and I arch up against him as my cock erupts in streams of come. My arse clenches and Sam cries out as he begins to shudder through his own release. When he collapses on top of me, I wrap all my limbs around him, the manic smile back in place.
* * *
“I feel better now.”
Those are the first words out of Sam’s mouth after we finally clean ourselves up and move to the top of the bed, our heads finding the softness of the pillows.
Rolling up onto my side, I run fingertips over his stomach and chest. “You felt bad before?”
He grins at me. “Wanting you had become uncomfortable.”
“You thinkyouwere uncomfortable?” I bark out a laugh. “I’ve been lusting after you since before you knew I existed. But then, you already know that.”
“I could stand to know a little more,” he teases. “How long?”
