Page 105 of Allegiant

“What do I need?” His voice is low and rough as he fucks his fingers in and out of my hole.

“You need practice. Oh god!”

He kisses me deeply then, tongue swirling around mine as he positions his body over my own. His fingers leave me, his cock slotting against my open, wet hole.

“No one has ever believed in me like you do,” he says softly, his nose brushing against my own. He pushes into me then, his thick cock splitting me open.

So good.

So perfect.

I cup his face, making sure his focus is on me as I say this. “You deserve it. You deserve so much more than you give yourself.”

His eyes flash, his nostrils flaring, and then our mouths meet once more, sloppy and wet, my body impaled on his hard length.

He starts to move, slow at first, taking me for a pleasurable ride before he picks up the pace, our skin slapping against each other’s as he tunnels in and out of me.

I hold on, grasping for purchase, trying to ground myself. But in minutes I’m flying apart, my body erupting, my mouth open in an ecstatic cry. He follows me over, spilling into me, limbs shaking, moans pulled from deep within him.

And when it’s over, he falls onto me, heaving, his breath a frantic pulse against my neck.

“Fuck. So fucking good,” he murmurs into my ear. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

My hand rubs along his spine, and I feel how he shudders above me.

“I don’t know if I’m perfect. I’ve made so many mistakes…”

He leans up, his eyes meeting mine, sincerity in his gaze.

“Adam wasn’t your mistake. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I breathe, hating that I’ve brought this up now, in this moment. But he doesn’t seem upset by it, just kisses my cheek softly. In reassurance. In acknowledgment.

“Never be sorry for talking about him.”

I sniffle and pull him against me, loving the feel of him still inside me.

“I just want you to know,” he begins, his voice soft against the shell of my ear, “I’ve made mistakes too. Am still making them. But sometimes I wonder if maybe those mistakes are the only way to find something real. Something true.”

“I don’t know,” I reply, my hand curling in his hair. “I don’t know.”

And I really don’t know what’s true or not anymore. Adam felt true, and he was ripped from me. Dance feels real, but I don’t know if I’ll ever find success past the show I’m featured in, don’t know if I’ll ever be able to manage the studio I’ve come to love.

And Samson, well, he feels the most real, the most true…the most.

Suddenly, I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I can’t walk away from Samson. Not now.

But that won’t stop the world from taking him from me anyway.

For the first time since staying at the Buckingham mansion, I find myself alone. Samson has been summoned to yet another meeting about whatever it is he does. I’ve asked him a couple of times since, but his answer hasn’t changed. He keeps telling me he’s an assassin.

Absolutely ridiculous, if you ask me, but fine. If he wants to keep his secrets, then that works for me. We’re already getting too close. Dangerously so.

Harley invited me to watch a movie, but I have another task in mind. Something that’s been bugging me ever since seeing the tiny shed Samson dances in.

With my laptop open, I scroll through the websites of all the leading architects in the area. I’m not even sure what qualifies someone as being good. I want the best for Samson, and after dancing for who knows how long in that tiny shed, he deserves everything. He’ll always be welcome at Rhythm…but if all of this ends, he might not want to see me again.

I push the heel of my hand against my chest, willing the ache to stop. I’m not planning on ending whatever this is, but I know it will eventually come to a close. Good things always do.