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They rode a fine line, the pain of her body stretching to accommodate him mixed with a formerly unknown ecstasy that found her climbing the tracks again, ready for another downward rush into bliss.
Sam clamped her legs around him, accepting him as deep as she could, and when he was fully sheathed, they lay still for a moment, both damp with sweat, her breath hitching.
“You good?” he asked again.
“Mmhmm.” Words weren’t going to happen, let alone full sentences.
He pulled out almost all the way, and Sam was amazed that a presence she’d once found invasive now left her feeling empty when it was gone. He thrust into her, harder this time, and she bit down on his shoulder to stifle her yelp. She worried if he thought it was hurting her he might stop. She didn’t want him to.
Remembering how to use her tongue, she said as much. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“Good,” he growled in response, twining his fingers through her hair while he buried himself deep inside her over and over. Tears welled in her eyes from the overabundance of new sensations, feelings she couldn’t affix a name to.
He clutched her to his chest and pulled them both into a sitting position, clasping her hips while he showed her a new rhythm. She picked up the tempo, following the instructions of his hands as she rode him, her feet digging into the duvet.
He bit down on her nipple, and she jerked hard, screaming out his name as the orgasm hit her. It happened so suddenly she hadn’t had time to prepare for it. Her whole body clenched, and the tightness inside her made him feel twice as big.
He grunted, his body rocking against hers as he trembled slightly, and she felt his release like a sigh within her. When he lay down on top of her again, their arms and legs as disarrayed as a Picasso painting, they were both wet and breathing hard.
“Sweet Jesus,” she said, barely catching her breath.
“You told me to say thank you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sam was sleeping when Ethan left.
He planned to return, so he wasn’t sure why he felt sick about sneaking out. Maybe it was the act of leaving her in bed, her hair a tangled mess against the white sheets. Every part of him said that was where he belonged, but he had somewhere he needed to be.
Grabbing the envelope from the coffee table, he slipped his shoes on quietly and stole into the hall before Sam had a chance to notice he’d left.
If all went well, he could meet Julian, pay off his debt and walk away scot-free before Sam realized his side of the bed was empty.
His side of the bed.
Jesus, how had he gotten to that point so soon? In a matter of days he already wanted to mark his territory around her. Sam was different from other women he knew, she was special. She didn’t make him feel cheap or like an object.
Sex hadn’t been her ultimate goal with him.
But goddamn if the sex hadn’t been extraordinary. Which was saying something considering his line of work.
It had been so much more than what he had come to expect. The sighs and gasps and screams, none of it had been staged. When he’d made her come, he’d felt it in a way that couldn’t be faked. With Sam the sex was all about pleasure, not about camera angles or getting the money shot.
Coming inside a woman instead of on her—twice in one night no less—was a treat he hadn’t realized he craved so badly. Where some men wanted to go without condoms, Ethan had that luxury with his day job. Rigorous and regular testing for all actors meant fear of disease was next to none, and the female performers were all on birth control.
So bareback wasn’t that special for him.
But even with a condom on, getting to come inside Sam had felt like getting off for the first time as a teenager. It was better than having her swallow his load earlier. He started getting hard again thinking about it, and he didn’t want to meet Julian sporting a raging boner.
Instead he thought about what Julian would subject him to if he didn’t pay up, and that deeply unsexy, downright frightening thought put a damper on any brewing excitem
ent.
Ethan had texted Julian to meet him at a bar in Caesars Palace called The Gossy Room. It was in a public walkway between Caesars and the Bellagio, meaning violence would be kept to a minimum, but it was small enough people would mind their own business long enough for Ethan to conduct his transaction.
He took a cab the short distance between the two hotels and wound his way through the maze of the casino until he found the bar. Julian’s shiny silver-gray hair and patches of bald head were a beacon from down the hall, telling him the other man had arrived early.
Just his luck, because Julian hated to be kept waiting.
