His eyes had drifted down to my breast area again but at my question, they shot up to my face then both his arms closed around me, he shoved his face in my neck and burst out laughing.
Hmm. Maybe I read him wrong.
“Scared of shopping,” he muttered into my neck then burst out laughing again, his arms going so tight, they squeezed the breath out of me.
Yes, it would seem I read him wrong.
It appeared he didn’t fear it. He loathed it.
So noted.
“Sam, I need to finish with my mascara,” I told him, his head came up and he kept chuckling as his eyes caught mine.
“So finish,” he invited, his voice still vibrating with residual laughter.
“I can’t, you’re putting me off.”
His brows drew together. “How?”
“I don’t know, holding me, watching me, being hot. That puts a girl off.”
His brows relaxed but his body started shaking again, his mouth spreading in a huge grin through which he asked, “Me being hot puts you off?”
“Not, say, when I’m sitting, drinking wine next to you or, uh… other times. But when I have to concentrate on something important and get it right and you’re watching then, uh… yeah.”
His big grin became a bigger smile. “Mascara is important?”
“Sam,” I snapped.
His eyes left mine in the mirror because his head dipped and his mouth went to my ear and I watched as I listened to him whisper, “I was watchin’ you go down on me and I was a lot hotter then, baby. Now that was important and you didn’t seem to have any problem concentrating.”
Heat rushed between my legs, hot and wet.
Oh God.
“Sam,” I breathed.
“Fuck.” His nose brushed the skin below my ear as his hand at the side of my ribs slid up to the side of my breast. “You smell good.”
Apparently, Celeste’s perfume discovery tactic worked.
Also noted.
“You feel good,” he went on, his thumb extending and gliding under the swell of my breast.
I bit my lip and locked my shaking knees.
Sam’s arm around my belly dipped low, his fingers curled into the hem of my dress and his eyes came back to me in the mirror.
“And you look good,” he murmured, his hand ducking under my dress.
Oh God.
“Sam,” I repeated on a breath.
His hand slid into my panties.
“Can’t keep my f**kin’ hands off you.”
Oh God.
“Sam –”
I stopped talking as I sucked in breath and my head dropped back to his shoulder when his finger hit the spot.
Oh man. That felt nice.
His finger worked me, I moaned, turned my head and pressed my forehead into his neck and his other hand pulled down the top of the dress taking with it the cup of my bra and his fingers started working my nipple there.
God.
That felt nicer than nice.
“Jesus, f**k, look at you.”
I pressed my forehead in his neck.
“Fuckin’, look at you.” His finger at the spot slid down and filled me. “Beautiful.”
Both of my hands went to both of his, he kept playing with my nipple and finger f**ked me before going back to my clit, pressing and rolling. I felt it with my hands and I felt what he was doing and both felt freaking great.
I whimpered.
His finger moved to slide back inside.
“Gotta have that again, baby,” he growled in my ear and I twisted my neck and did my best to focus on his eyes.
“Take it,” I whispered.
His hands moved away instantly, both going to yank up my skirt. Mine went to yank down my panties. He lifted me up, they fell from my ankles then I found myself on my hands and knees in the unmade bed, Sam on his feet behind me, his hand brushing my ass as he worked the fly of his jeans then he was inside me.
He drove forward.
I reared back.
He did it again. So did I.
We’d had a lot of sex so this lasted awhile.
A good long while.
A freaking fantastic one.
I came on a moan, my hands going out from under me, sliding forward as my back arched into the bed, my ass to the ceiling. I heard his growl then his grunts as he powered in harder, faster then I listened to his groan when he came.
After, I remained in position, getting my wits sorted, feeling him glide in and out while the fingertips of one hand drifted over my behind and hip and the other hand stayed curled around my waist and I liked that, he did it often, showing me tenderness after he took me hard. Then he pulled out, hauled me to my feet, back to him, yanked my dress down, then he held me close to his frame with an arm around my ribs as he righted his fly.
Then he turned me, lifted me, stepped in, put a knee to the bed then we were down, me on my back, Sam on top of me.
And it was then he kissed me, long, deep and sweet.
I liked that too. A lot.
He lifted his head and I looked into his satisfied, beautiful, dark brown eyes, liking that they were satisfied but liking it more that I could give him that and I informed him, “I think I dropped my mascara wand.”
He blinked.
Then he grinned.
Then he muttered, “Tragedy.”
I grinned back then went on, “And my mascara tube.”
“I’ll notify the media.”
My grin turned to a smile but I said through it, “Shut up.”
He shut up but he did this by kissing me again, longer, deeper, sweeter.
Yeah, I liked that a lot.
He released my mouth but kissed my nose.
Oh. Wow.
He’d never done that before.
That was sweet too.
Very sweet.
Then something occurred to me and I whispered, “I have to go clean up.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, touched his mouth to mine and rolled off.
I rolled the other way, got up, tagged my panties from the floor then went to the bathroom and did my thing.
I was washing my hands and looking in the mirror when it hit me Sam always put on a condom. Always, no matter how heated it got and, so far, each time, it got seriously heated.
And he clearly didn’t just now.
This was not a big deal. I was on the pill.
But Sam was so careful he was probably concerned I wasn’t and was too much of a gentleman to ask.
I needed to set his mind at ease.
I wandered into the room to the mascara wand and tube I’d dropped, I retrieved them, inspected the wand, all seemed well then I slid the wand into the tube, turned to the mirror and went back to swiping.
I did this while, hopefully casually, noting, “You should know, honey, I’m on the pill.”