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“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Shh. Trust me.” His arm was like a band of steel, holding me securely in place. His other hand found my clit while his lips lowered to the side of my neck. “You’re mine,” he murmured against my skin. His fingers made tight, precise circles around my sensitive bud as he sucked at my flesh, each pull echoing in my core.
My inner walls clenched around him, and he growled into my neck, his fingers speeding up and sending my body sprinting for the edge of relief so fast I was sure I was going to black out.
Sam’s name was a sob on my lips as I came again. He withdrew his fingers from my folds and wrapped his hands around my wrists, guiding my hands to the smooth wood of what I assumed was his headboard.
Hands closed on my hips. “Hold on tight,” he said through gritted teeth, his strained tone the only indication that he was struggling to keep his perfect control.
Sam withdrew and slammed back in, drawing a cry from my lips. He pumped into me fast and hard, hitting that spot deep inside over and over again until my legs were shaking and I was legitimately afraid my arms were going to give out.
“Come, Siren,” he growled.
Could I even do that again?
He shifted, changing the angle slightly before thrusting again, and I went tumbling over the edge, drowning in waves of pleasure so sharp and acute it was almost painful.
Sam grunted behind me as he followed me into release, calling out the nickname he’d given me. We both collapsed in a heap on the bed, fighting to suck in air. His hold on me became gentle as he cradled me against his warm skin, holding me protectively.
Hours later, we were still lying in bed, skin against skin. He’d removed the blindfold and was currently running a hand over my bare back in lazy strokes.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“For what?” I asked, completely baffled.
“Taking my demons out on you.”
I hid a smile against his pillow. “I may not be able to walk in the morning, but I certainly don’t regret it.”
He didn’t say anything, and I knew my words didn’t reassure him.
“Talk to me,” I said softly. “What are you thinking about?”
“My parents weren’t good people. My father was at least good to me… for the five years he was in my life. My mother mostly ignored me and left me to fend for myself. I always knew she didn’t want me, didn’t want to be a parent. She called me the worst mistake of her life.”
My heart broke for the child who’d been failed so horribly by the woman who was supposed to love him unconditionally. I wanted to take away Sam’s pain, to change his past, even though I knew it was impossible.
“After my father was gone, Micah took me under his wing as best he could. He was my mentor and did his best to make up for my lack of family. I owe everything to him. When I was nine, my mother’s sins finally caught up with her, and Micah took me in. He offered me a chance to be more than I was born to be and gave me a family. I did everything I could to make him proud, to follow his example, to never become like my parents.”
“You aren’t like your parents,” I said fiercely. I remembered what Thomas told me about Sam having a heart of gold buried under his armor. Now I was starting to understand why he needed the armor in the first place.
Sam laughed without a trace of humor. “I might not be my parents, but I have my own list of sins, and it’s only a matter of time before they catch up to me. You should run far away from me, Siren, before you end up the collateral damage of my transgressions.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You might not believe you’re one of the good guys, but I do, and I’m willing to bet on you.”
“And I’m selfish enough to let you.”
We lay in silence for a few minutes while I let everything he’d said sink in.
“How old are you?” I asked, pushing up on my elbows so I could see his face.
His dark eyes studied me, and I could see him contemplating his answer. “Fifty-seven,” he said. “But years don’t work the same way for me as they do for you. I choose to look in my late twenties because that’s the age that best suits me.”
“Does that mean you could choose to look any age you want?”
“More or less.”
“What are you?” I whispered, trying to wrap my brain around what he was saying and mostly failing.
