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“Fuck me, but I can’t get enough of your sweet body.”
He thrust into her hard, then stilled. “Shit, no condom.” He pulled out his throbbing cock, scooped her into his arms, and stumbled to the bed. After dropping her onto the mattress, he groped around the floor for his jeans, mumbling and cursing. A minute later, Samson shimmied up the bed until he hovered over her.
This time, she took the packet from him and held it up. “Can’t help asking—is this an XL?” She giggled, remembering a conversation she’d had in CVS with Juliet about the different sizes of condoms. It erupted into one-liners, with customers giving them the side-eye.
“Shhhit,that’s XXL, baby.” Samson’s lips twisted into a sexy grin she couldn’t resist, a mix between a bad boy and a raging alpha male.
Her hand lingered at the root of his cock, and she felt his guttural groan in her core. The empowerment of controlling him with her actions washed over her.
“And I want to feel every inch.”
She palmed him, then wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed. “Let me do all the work this time.”
“Ahhh, fuck.” His lips parted, eyelids drooped, and his head fell back against the pillows.
She’d forgotten how his thickness filled her up and, yes, spoiled her for any other man. In truth, Lisbeth always had over-the-top, toe-curling orgasms with Samson.
“Hey, you still with me?”
Yes, of course, just equating you to my ex-finance. What could be wrong with that comparison?
She gripped him tighter, working him from root to tip. “Just getting you ready. Thought you might like a lap dance like the old days.”
“Fuck, babe, I’ve been thinking about that since I first saw you two weeks ago.”
That was another trait she loved about Samson. He didn’t mince words or skirt the issue with a flowery phrase. Every thought entering his brain fell right out of his mouth—honest and sometimes terrifying.
Lisbeth pushed onto her knees, then cupped her breasts and smooshed them together, offering them up like the sweetest fruit, and when Samson reached for her, she pushed his hands away.
“No touching the dancers. That’s the rule.”
“I have a hard time following the rules.”
He played along, but in reality, his words hit home. He’d never gone by the rules back in Brooklyn, and it was one of the things she loved about him. Samson thought out-of-the-box and didn’t let protocol inhibit his actions, and when she was with him, she enjoyed that same liberation.
She leaned her palms on his shoulders and gyrated her hips, close to his abs but without touching. Then she slowly ran her hands over his chest and traced his tattoos. He grabbed her hips and pulled her close, placing soft kisses on her abs, and this time, she let him. His tongue wound lazy circles over Lisbeth’s hip bone and down her thigh as he cupped her center with the heel of his palm.
She ground against him as his fingers explored her wetness, then just as suddenly, Samson replaced his fingers with his tongue, electrifying her senses. Lisbeth gripped the headboard for support, and he reached back, squeezing her ass cheeks. She rode his mouth in a frenzied abandon, then pulled away, slid down, and placed her knees on either side of his thick thighs.
He licked his lips and smiled. “Just as sweet as I remember.”
She braced her palms on his pecs and brushed over him just above Samson’s straining cock with her breast just inches from his waiting lips.
He captured a nipple between his lips and sucked hard, then slid his length over her entrance and hissed out a breath. “Can’t wait much longer, babe.”
She fumbled around the bed sheets, found the rubber, ripped it open, and rolled it over his straining cock.
“Can’t believe I almost forgot to wrap up before.”
Lisbeth noticed the discarded packet said XXL, and the condom just about fit. He wasn’t kidding, but of course, she already knew Samson was huge. She also knew she’d feel that delicious ache tomorrow.
Lisbeth’s brain jolted with the reality of the situation. She’d been so caught up in her emotions she’d almost had unprotected sex with a man she—what? Samson wasn’t a stranger, but he wasn’t even her boyfriend. She’d only broken up with her fiancé a few hours ago and was in bed with another man. Yup, she’d hit the “slut-meter” as Juliet would say.
But how could something that felt so good be wrong? Their years apart melted away, and they returned to their familiar dance as if they’d never parted.
His palm caressed her cheek. “You’re thinking too much again.”
“I want to enjoy every minute. Get lost in you.”
