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Fight or fuck, either would work for Samson right now. In truth, he wanted to fuck. Just lay Lisbeth out, lick her sweet skin, and make her scream his name until she couldn’t see straight.
They stared at each other for a few heartbeats, then he closed the distance between them, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and kissed her hard. Dragging the breath from her lungs and mashing their lips together was his brutal attempt to show Lisbeth how she made him feel.
“That’s the truth you’ve been searching for,” he mumbled against her lips, then angled his mouth, leaving little bites along the column of her neck. She gripped his shoulders but didn’t push him away. Instead, she burrowed deeper into his bare chest as his calloused fingers slipped her silky robe off her shoulders.
Lisbeth feathered his jaw with soft kisses. “Even after all these years, having your arms around me calms the doubts and makes me believe anything can happen.”
Prize words right there because, fuck yeah, anything could happen. Samson just hoped it happened in their favor. Living on the edge and taking chances was fine when he only had to worry about himself, but bringing Lisbeth into it was much scarier. His track record for saving women was zero to two, so the wonky feeling inside him was genuine.
Convincing Nick to join up with Frank again would be near impossible. Confronting Frank would be sheer torture because the bastard would make him twist before he gave in, but if it made him Lisbeth’s savior, then it was all good. The need to rectify the ghosts from his past lived deep within Samson, and maybe this would be a way to set them free—set himself free.
He angled his arm under her legs, scooped her up, and stood all in one movement while attacking her lips. Her arms automatically wrapped around his neck as their tongues teased and tangled together, devouring each other. He kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot, eased her down on the bed, and caged her in on both sides with his hands as he hovered over her.
“I’ve been waiting for this for ten fuckin’ years.” Lisbeth shuddered at the growl in his voice. “No more reasons to stop. No more bullshit between us. Just you and me, so you better make a decision right the fuck now 'cause once I start, I ain’t gonna be able to stop.”
Her lips pressed together, then parted, and Samson’s breath hitched as his chest heaved with anticipation. He’d given her an ultimatum, and now he hoped to fuck she’d give him the answer he wanted.
She pushed up on her elbows, grabbed the hem of her lacy camisole, and when she tore it over her head, it was all the encouragement he needed. He toed off his boots while digging into his pocket. He threw a foil packet on the bed, then dragged down the zipper of his jeans and pushed the denim to the floor.
“I love how you go commando.” Lisbeth’s lips curled into a sexy grin, and he didn’t think he could hold it together.
He pawed at her booty shorts with a shaky hand, and they both heard the lacy material tear as it skimmed down her thighs.
He held them up in the crook of his finger. “Guess I owe you another pair.”
“I can’t think of a better way to ruin them.” She wiggled her bare ass against the sheets, and his dick pulsed with need.
“Fuck, you got me wound up so tight I can’t think straight.” Samson dove between her rounded breasts and then laved each nipple with his tongue until she squirmed and moaned under him. “And I’m only getting started.”
He inched down the bed to reach her center, kissing and sucking the inside of one thigh and the other.
“Please.” She groaned.
“You say somethin’, babe?” He raised his head, flashing her a devilish grin. Yeah, he was a cocky bastard and wanted to hear her beg for him.
“Please, please.” Lisbeth thrust her hips until her pussy was only inches from his lips.
“Please, what?” He teased.
Samson chuckled against her sensitive flesh, and she reached down and drove her nails into his scalp.
“Please suck on my clit.” She moaned, pushing his head between her legs.
“Sounds like my girl is in need.” He lapped at her with his tongue, and she bucked off the bed, so he braced his hands against her thighs and spread her wider, wanting to see and taste every inch.
Samson took his time with long strokes while he worked his thumb against her clit, loving the little sounds she made as he tasted her juices. He drove his tongue deep inside her, keeping pace with her hips. When Lisbeth’s thighs shook, he knew she was close, so he moved his thumb and sucked her clit hard until she was writhing and gasping above him.
She convulsed around his tongue, and her sheer pleasure almost made him blow. Almost—because there was only one place Samson wanted to come, deep inside Lisbeth while he gazed into her clear blue eyes, owning her with his body.
* * *
The first orgasm surprised her with its intensity. The way it flashed through her body left her bones weak and her brain fuzzy. She drifted on this magnificent cloud for only a few minutes before Samson shifted. He grabbed the foil packet, tore it open with his teeth, and sheathed himself. She’d forgotten how big he was. Lisbeth’s pulse kicked up, her body flushed with desire and slight fear of accommodating his size.
He nudged her thighs apart with his knee and slowly lowered himself, supporting most of his weight on his bulging biceps, his hands braced against the mattress. Their faces only inches apart, Lisbeth watched Samson’s strained expression as he forced himself to take it slow. She reached between them to caress him and then guided him to her center.
“I wanna take it slow, babe, but I can’t promise—”
She covered his lips with her forefinger. “No promises, just give me what I need.”
