Page 136 of Allegiant

“I’ll grab the blankets, you just go take a bath. You seem stiff.”

I am, but it’s not what I want to hear. I want more. I miss him deeply, but I do as he says, staying in the tub far longer than I should until the water is cold, and then I get out, hearing the soft breathing coming from the other room.

I linger in the doorway and watch him sleep, his shirt off, a hand on his chest, that raven staring up at me from his arm.

I realize why his family all have the same tattoo. It’s not because they’re the Buckinghams.

But because they are The Firm.

That knowledge is enough to have me heading back to my room alone.

34

ROWAN

I wake up to strong hands kneading my shoulders and neck. I know who it is, have memorized the shape and feel of his palms against my skin.

I groan as his thumbs sink into a knot on my shoulder blade.

“Is this okay?” he asks anxiously.

In the back of my mind, there’s an alarm bell. A reason why this shouldn’t be okay. But it’s getting more difficult to ignore every day, especially with his hands on me. I nod against my pillow, my entire body shifting slightly, the drag of my cock against the mattress almost painful. “Feels so good. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t, working his hands down my skin, making me limp with pleasure.

I shouldn’t ask for more, not now, but when his hands move down to my lower back, precariously close to my ass, I shift up slightly.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please, Samson.”

His hands falter, and I wish I hadn’t begged for a moment before he breaks my heart all over again. “I don’t want to be your regret. Not again.”

My eyes fill with tears and my body twists, our eyes meeting. I reach up and cup his cheek. “I don’t regret you. I did for a moment, but I was hurt. Now I just miss you. And I know this is hurting you, and I fucking hate it. I don’t want to hurt you, Samson. I don’t.”

He kisses my palm. “Being around you, in your space, it’s worth it. Because the alternative? That’d hurt me in a way I’d never recover from.”

The words I want to tell him are in my throat, but I can’t get them free. I’m so close, so close to letting him back in, but the fear is still choking me, holding me hostage.

“Let me get you off.” He runs his hand down my chest, resting it on my stomach over the sheet. “Please.”

I chew on my lip. “Will this hurt you more?”

“Never,” he promises. “Touching you will never hurt me.”

I’m not sure if he’s telling me the truth, but I’m powerless to resist him.

Samson eases down my body, placing butterfly kisses on my skin that are so sweet I almost can’t bear it. When he finds my aching cock, he sucks it almost reverently. Like I’m something precious. Special.

It takes a shockingly short time for me to find my release. Samson swallows every drop before resting his face against my thigh. He kisses the sensitive skin softly.

“Come here.” I reach for him, needing to help him find his pleasure. “Please.”

“Not yet, Row,” he says sadly, moving off me. “Not until everything has been made right.”

He pushes himself up and disappears into the bathroom, the shower turning on a moment later. I stare up at the ceiling, my heart thundering in my chest.

I need to fix this. I need to meet him halfway. But how do I do that when he’s so ingrained with his family, when they are in every part of his life? Can I move on with them, too? Can I let go of what they did?

I’m starting to think I might be able to do anything if it means being with Samson.