Page 82 of Allegiant

He sinks his teeth into my earlobe, his deep voice hoarse in my ear. “You’re perfect. Made for me.”

His words have me stilling. I’m far from perfect. Samson knows that now.

I’m saved from replying when he replaces his fingers with his cock. Like he said, there’s no gentleness. He thrusts in to the hilt, my lips opening on a silent scream.

Water runs over my face as Samson sets a relentless pace. I barely notice, too caught up in how he’s making me feel. I’m on my tiptoes, thrusting back, taking all of him, our moans echoing off the walls. The slap of wet skin, the feel of his hard length tunneling in and out of me, brings me close to the edge in minutes.

His fingers dig into my hips, lifting me slightly, and my fingers curl into the tiles as I try to keep myself upright. But it’s too hard when my limbs are shaking like this. If it weren’t for my years of dance training, I would’ve collapsed long before now.

His face tucks into my neck, his lips and teeth dragging across my sensitive skin. “You feel so good. Want to be buried in you day and night. Feed you my cock first thing in the morning until you’re choking on it. Finger you in the kitchen when no one else is around. Lay you over that fucking game-night table and rim you until you’re screaming my name. There’s so much I’m going to do to you, Rowan.”

I explode with a shout, my cum splashing against the tiles and disappearing down the drain. The orgasm feels like it goes on forever, leaving my knees weak and shaking.

Samson growls, his arms wrapping around me and holding my weight as he chases his release.

I rest in his arms, floating as he fucks me. Even while finding his own pleasure, Samson is still looking after me.

I shouldn’t like it as much as I do. It’s dangerous.

His thrusts turn uneven and fevered as he pants my name like a prayer. A vow. He fills me, his cum marking the inside of me, just like he’s marked something deep in my chest.

Dangerous. He was right. Samson is dangerous.

The worst kind.

He stills, his body falling against me, his breath coming out uneven and stuttered. “Fuck. I needed that.”

“Me too,” I wheeze, trying to persuade myself that my heart is just hammering this hard from the exertion.

I know it’s a lie.

I can feel him spilling from my hole as I stand straight, my ass flexing as I try to hold it in.

“Let it out. I want to see,” he says, spreading my cheeks and staring at it.

I lean against the wall as he looks his fill. When he’s done, he spins me around, and his mouth falls on mine, tongue thrusting into me lazily.

We kiss like that until the steam drives us from the shower enclosure, the two of us stumbling into the bedroom, our skin still wet, my body shivering from the cold. It’s only then that he tucks a towel around my shoulders and helps me dry off.

And then we fall into bed, our naked bodies pressed against each other. We don’t bother making our way back down to game night, content to just stay in each other’s arms all night.

I don’t think about four days, or the fact that this feels right.

I just let myself exist in the moment, allowing myself to once again be distracted.

As detrimental as this will end up being.

21

ROWAN

The few days I took off to grieve are at an end. I went into them expecting to be alone, completely unsure how I’d be coming out of the other side.

Instead, I spent them with Samson. With his crazy family. In that fucking huge mansion where I got lost just trying to find the kitchen for coffee this morning. Ansel wasn’t joking about panicked phone calls. I had to call Samson to come track me down.

Because of him, I made it through the days I’d been dreading for months. Now, I’m heading into rehearsal with a relaxed smile thanks to the sex he woke me up with.

And, best of all, I’m walking into the studio with Samson at my side.