Page 14 of Allegiant

He just needs to deflate that ego a little and try to learn. Or maybe it’s not ego at all. Maybe it’s shame.

I squeeze his hips encouragingly. “Come on. You can do it. I know you can.”

Samson rolls his eyes, but his hands move in time with the beat, or they attempt to. He’s off by a second at least, making me wince internally. He’s trying too hard, missing the point entirely. Perhaps this isn’t the best way to teach him, I think as I move around to stand in front of him. Perhaps he needs a little more guidance.

I gently put my hands over his to stop the clapping. His brows draw together. “What?”

I bite back a smile. He’s oddly endearing, even when he’s snarling. “It’s not working.”

“Why the fuck not? I’m clapping.”

I shake my head, pulling his hips into mine. This is dangerous, but a wonderful distraction.

I shouldn’t want this. But I do.

Oh, how I do.

The ire falls away from Samson’s face as I draw closer. His hands slide to my waist, and he holds me there, the two of us just breathing.

“Close your eyes,” I say as the music switches to a new song. It’s slower, more sensual. I feel the thump of it slide through my torso and linger between my legs.

“Why?”

“Stop asking questions and do it.”

His eyes narrow and then snap shut, his fingers curling against me as I roll my hips forward.

I feel him then, the hardness, the strength. It makes something inside of me unfurl, slow and wanting.

I do it again and again, matching the beat surrounding us, and he catches on. Not immediately, but eventually his hips move in time with my own.

“Yes, yes, perfect,” I whisper, my voice slightly raspy.

He must hear me because he peeks an eye open and wets his lips. My eyes fall to them, the air between us growing thick with want.

“You’re doing real good.”

Samson’s other eye pops open, and he gives me a small, proud grin as we just continue to vibe with it, the beat heavy beneath our feet.

His cock is growing hard against me—mine is already too far gone. It’s almost too much. The night with him in that motel room comes back to me. How good it felt, how he managed me, how he took all control from my hands and just…forced me to experience it.

I want that again.

I want him to spin me around, push me up against the mirror, and drag my pants down.

Then I want him to fuck me, deep and hard.

The way he seems to own this dance, even though he’s not the expert, says all I need to know about how he’ll behave in the bedroom.

Though I got a taste of that already, didn’t I?

And I liked it.

A moan slips from my lips as his hard cock drags against mine and he stares down between us, at the place where our bodies meet.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” I manage to ask. “Being in time with the music?”

Samson laughs quietly, something I suspect he doesn’t do often. “Guess it does.”