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He brings his lips to my mouth, drawing mine apart and caressing his tongue against mine. The distraction pacifies me until my fingers graze against the ridges of raised skin, and I yank my lips away.
“Tell me what happened,” I beg.
His shoulders lower, and he unzips his uniform down to his waist, exposing his chiseled physique as he pulls it down over his hips. “There was some scar tissue,” he explains. “The first brand didn’t take the way they wanted.” Clothes fall to the floor and my eyes drift to his hard cock. He wraps his fingers around it, squeezing from base to tip.
“Second time around, it took a little too well, but it’s fine,” he explains,his fist steadily pumping. I’m transfixed and my legs spread apart at the sight.
“We have twenty minutes, Row,” he smirks. “You want to go over injuries in that time? Because I’d rather fuck my wife.”
“I’d rather you fuck your wife,” I answer, suddenly in awe at how perfect he is and that he’s mine.
Before I can blink, he’s on his knees, pulling my center against his hot mouth. My ass slides with the papers underneath, and I wrap my legs over his shoulders while his tongue makes its way inside me.
My head falls back, and I moan. If there wasn’t a demolition going on down the hall, the entire floor would have heard me crying out Sam’s name. I’m sure Alex knows what’s going on in here, but it doesn’t stop me. He can jack off outside the door for all I care.
All that matters at this moment is that it’s Sam’s tongue that circles my clit and his hands that touch my body. I’m shaking in minutes, my legs vibrating against his ears, and I look down to see him smiling while he eats my pussy.
I don’t want to stare at the scar on his back, but it’s right there, and my rhythm stops with the sight. He notices I’m not rocking against his face, and he stands up, running his fingers up my thighs, letting one hand dip between my legs.
“Are you looking at my scar?” His tone is accusing, almost mocking my disobedience.
I nod and bite my lip while he presses a finger inside my wet center. “I know you too well, Row.”
He’s right about that.
He knows it breaks my heart to see us branded with this shit and, knowing how painful mine was, his burn had to be horrendous. With it out of sight, I’m back to feeling amazing while his fingers work me, and he rubs my clit with his thumb.
“It looks so painful,” I whimper.
“Remember when I told you a little pain mixed with pleasure feels good?” he growls.
I’m yanked from the workbench, his hand releasing before I’m spun around. His wide palm presses on my back until I’m bent over on the table, and I can’t hide the wide smile on my lips. My hair twists in his fingers and he pulls, lifting my face from the loose pages when his cock plunges inside, filling me in one motion.
“Fuck,” I cry out. His steady thrusts invade me, stretching me to my limit, and I claw at the table, crumpling the papers underneath. I toss them to the floor around our feet, pushing my ass back in rhythm with his thrusts.
“I’ll keep you turned around if you don’t want to see it,” Sam taunts. His hand slaps against one cheek, and he covers the sting with his palm, grabbing the skin and spreading me open further.
“You’re so beautiful with me inside you,” he rasps.
“I’m close,” is all I say back, focused on the orgasm that threatens to crest at any second.
“No,” he demands and pulls himself out. I whimper at the loss of him. I need Sam to fill me and make me whole, take away the loneliness I’ve felt, and remind me who I belong to. When I try to turn around, he holds me down against the table, leaning over, his hot chest resting on my back.
His lips graze my ear. “Will you behave if I turn you around? I want to see your face when you come.”
I nod against the wood, unsure if I can keep my promise. But I need to come with Sam inside me more than I need air. He’s the other half of me, and together, everything feels whole and right. Everything else fades away and every problem and worry disappear.
His arms slide underneath my stomach while he lifts us to standing, and when I turn to face him, it’s slow and purposeful. He feels every inch of my skin touching his, moving across his stomach while his hard cock presses into my flesh, throbbing against my body.
He steps back, looking me over. Dragging a chair from the side of the table, he sits, pulling me along with him. His eyes don’t leave mine when I straddle him, letting his tip nudge my entrance, watching his eyes grow heavy with the touch.
“Slower this time?” he asks, and I nod.
His hands wrap around my hips, urging me forward onto his waiting cock. Leaning back on his thighs, I allow him inside, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed. A bead of sweat trickles between my breasts and he closes his lips around one swollen nipple, taking the other in his hand, pulling at the tip.
I rock against him, rubbing the spot that feels too good, arching my back and speeding up despite my best efforts to drag this out.
He releases my nipple and smiles against the skin. “Not so fast.”
