“I’m sorry,” he said.
Then, before I could fire back another response, his lips were on mine, and he was pressing me back against the wall, his good hand grasping my hip as he pinned me against him, his mouth claiming me. His bandaged hand gripped my hair andtilted my head back, holding it in place as his tongue slipped between my lips.
Without realizing I was doing it, I grabbed his shirt, tugging him harder against me, that heat I had been resisting for weeks bursting into flames. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I didn’t want to.
My body responded to his every touch, the way his fingers ran along my side, tightening their grip every so often, enough to make me twitch with a burst of longing. I had never experienced a burning need like this before, and something told me I may never again. Or, at least, not with anyone else.
His hand slipped beneath my shirt, fingers caressing bare skin as they moved slowly, tantalizingly upward. My breath went ragged when he finally broke the kiss, his mouth moving down my neck, each brush of his lips sending new shivers of need running through me.
“You’re injured,” I muttered, though the vague protest barely escaped. I didn’t want him to stop.
“I really don’t give a damn,” he muttered. “I’d have to be in a wheelchair for me to even think about holding back.”
His hand reached my breast, and he let out an approving growl as he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. My body convulsed as he squeezed, and I let out a soft gasp. He cracked an amused grin, his eyes sparkling with both laughter and hunger.
“You’re reactive, aren’t you?” he muttered, squeezing again, my body twitching in the same way. “I like that.”
Before I could even respond, he had scooped me up in his arms without warning and was carrying me up the stairs to his room.
He pushed the door open and took me to the bed, laying me down. Without asking, he unfastened my jeans, tugging them off along with my underwear, leaving me entirely exposed.
My chest tightened, and I could barely breathe as he stood over me. I would have thought I would hate feeling this exposed, laying on his bed entirely bare—and I did—but instead of terrifying me, it electrified me instead.
Sam looked down at me with undisguised hunger, as if he had wanted to do this for years. Slowly, he took off his clothes. I sucked in a breath as I took in his stature, the perfect abs and lean muscles that made me want to run my hands over them. His cock sprang out, and a flush of embarrassment and heat raced through me at the sight. I had never seen one before, and yet I wanted to take it in my hands at the same time, to see what it felt like.
He clambered onto the bed next to me, his hand trailing along my bare skin, brushing the side of my breast as he continued to drink me in. Every touch only intensified that need. I had wanted him since I was a teenager, even if I had never admitted it, and now that it was here, I realized that the want I had felt then was a puddle compared to the ocean I felt now.
He moved until he hovered on top of me, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Are you sure?” I asked even as my entire body quivered with need.
“I’ve been fantasizing about having you naked on my bed since before the mating bond,” he said. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be sure, now that I finally have you where I want you?”
I hesitated, embarrassment flushing through me as I tried to form the words, but worrying that he might no longer wantme if he knew the truth. Why would he want to be with someone so inexperienced? Still, he deserved to know.
“I’m—” I blushed, the words not quite forming.
He blinked, seeming to read what I couldn’t say. “Are you a virgin?”
The blush deepened as I nodded. I waited for him to clamber off, bracing myself for that disappointment.
He leaned forward, his lip moving to my ear. “In that case, I’ll make sure your first time is a memorable one,” he murmured.
Instead of thrusting into me right away, his fingers ran down my chest, between my breasts, and past my navel, until they found my slit. I gasped, my hips bucking as he found my clit, and he gave a grin as he watched my reaction.
He rubbed my clit, stoking that fire. After a moment, his fingers plunged into me. I let out a soft cry of surprise and longing. He bent over me, his free hand pawing my breast as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me. My hands gripped the bedsheets as I writhed and moaned.
When I opened my eyes, I saw with a burst of flame that he was staring down at me with undisguised lust and satisfaction, and his cock twitched as if he was getting pleasure just from watching me squirm at his touch.
He continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, my breath growing ragged, until the only thing that mattered was the pulse of need rippling through me. I held on, wanting more of it, wanting it to keep going.
Just as I was about to come, he slowed, pulling out his fingers. I glowered at him, needing that release, and he gave a small chuckle and pressed his lips to mine.
He pressed his tip against my vagina, just enough for me to feel the pressure but not penetrating. Just that sensation, that promise of things to come, made my breathing grow ragged and my mind blank with need and anticipation. I bit my lip as I looked into Sam’s face. I was completely vulnerable to him, naked in every way.
“You can say stop if you need to,” he said.
I would never tell him to stop. I didn’t think I could.
