AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fuck you’re exquisite. I want to devour every inch of you,” he breathes into the shell of my ear eliciting a moan to fall from my lips.
In a haze of desire, my nails scratch down his chest until I reach his pants, pulling his belt free and dropping it to the floor with a loud clank that seems to vibrate around the marble. The intensity of his molten pools of hazel is almost too much to bear. Before I can finish, he sheds his pants then pulls me flush against his body. I can feel his hard length pressing against my stomach, making my pussy throb with need. Sam squeezes my ass in his hands forcing me to stand on tip toes as he crashes his mouth over mine.
He’s overwhelming.
All consuming.
Obsessive.
His heat burns my cool skin but ignites something deep inside me.
The steam from the shower begins to billow out, surrounding us in a cocoon of warmth.
“C’mon, sunshine, let’s get you warmed up.” The twinkle in his eyes causes a blush to creep into my cheeks because I know exactly how he intends to warm me up. His fingers gently stroke down my arm until his hand encompasses mine, leading me into the shower. I’d follow this man anywhere.
The warm water is almost painful against my chilled skin making me flinch away. I didn’t realize how cold I was even though I was standing in the rain in November.
“Here, is it too hot?” Sam questions, reaching over my shoulder to adjust the temperature.
“It’s okay. My skin being cold makes it feel hotter than it is.” He nods, pulling me in to wrap his arms around me.
“I want to kiss every freckle,” Sam pauses, kissing my forehead, “along,” kissing my cheek, “your,” kissing my nose, “body,” then finally kissing my waiting lips. He spins me around to face the glass wall forcing me to put my hands up to steady myself. That's when I see the damage I did to my hands when I was screaming in the cemetery. I try to slide them down, not wanting Sam’s attention to focus on the cuts and bruises.
“Marcy, what the hell happened?” I hesitate, pressing my hands against my stomach. He smacks my ass hard getting his desired effect. I turn around to rub the sensitive skin before he does it again.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I seethe.
“I asked you a question and you didn’t answer me,” he replies matter of factly like he can get away with shit like that. I roll my eyes, which is a huge mistake that I realize after the fact. Sam takes a step closer, caging me into the cool glass shower wall. My teeth pull my lip in to nibble on, only because I know it drives him wild. Two can play at this game.
Sam groans as his darkened eyes rove over my mouth. He bends to grab my wrists from behind me, pulling my hands out for him to observe. My eyes glance away not wanting to see the emotion written across his face.
He brings my hands under the stream to clean away the caked on blood.
“Ow!” I whimper, snatching my hands away quickly.
“Marcy, I need to see the damage.” Hearing my name fall from his lips instead of an endearment makes me feel like I’m in trouble. It’s stupid because it’s my name but I can’t help the disappointment. I lift my hands back up to his so he can continue his perusal.
“I’ll have to wrap these up when we get out of here,” he explains, letting my hands dangle by my sides.
“I don’t think–”
“Don’t,” he commands, effectively shutting me up. There is something about his tone he must have gotten from the military that makes me need to do what he tells me. “Turn around so I can wash your hair.”
As he grabs his bottle of 3-in-1 soap and shampoo concoction, I can’t help but giggle.
“Something funny?” he asks as he takes my hair in his hands, lathering it then massaging my scalp. It feels so good I could fall asleep.
“I was just noticing your variety of shower products,” I murmur with an unmistakable sass that has me smiling.
“I don’t usually have guests.” That intrigues me. We never had a talk about if we were single or not. I suppose I just assumed, which makes me wince. I don’t respond because I’m trying to think of what exactly to say. Why the hell didn’t we already have this talk? He never even asked me if I was with someone. Did he not care? Or was it obvious that I didn’t? Maybe my imaginary boyfriend couldn’t make it to the party. He doesn't know. The more I think, the pissier I get.
Sam takes the shower head from its stand and begins rinsing my hair.
“You might as well say what you’re thinking before you explode,” he chuckles, continuing to rid my hair of all the soap.
“How did you–”
“Your shoulders are so tense, they look frozen in place. Just spill it.”
