Page 25 of His Dark Vices

"Fuck, Sam, just like that!"

"Yeah, you want me to make you come like this?" he whispers, his teeth catching my earlobe.

"Yes, like that!" I call out through moans as he fingerfucks me harder.

I'm getting close, fast, and I can hear how wet I am, how lewd it sounds. This is how hot Sam gets me.

"Make me come, Sam, make me come," I start chanting under my breath, my eyes tightly shut.

"Come for me, Bree. Come on my fingers, that's it, come for me!"

"Yes! Yes!"

Suddenly, I seize around his fingers, my arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. My hips buck, and I come hard, but he doesn't stop. He's wringing the orgasm out of me, still encouraging in my ear until I scream, giving everything I have. His low chuckle fills my ears, an approving sound that surrounds me as I catch my breath.

"You came hard, didn't you?" Sam finally asks, his fingers stopping to stroke me gently.

I twitch with every movement of his and have to push at his hand, still in a daze. As I thought, his palm is slick with my juices. When I look up into his face, he's grinning, looking accomplished.

"Don't look so happy!" I chastise playfully, feeling light all over my body. "Shit, that was a big one."

"You liked it?"

Sam places a kiss on my lips, light and sweet, then stands up and heads to the kitchen. I sigh contentedly and press my face against the couch, feeling warm and relaxed. I could easily return the favor or even just have a quick nap here on the couch?—

I jolt up suddenly.

This is not what I came here for.

I look down at my forgotten laptop on the floor and groan. I initially left his penthouse to get more work done, but here I am, fooling around still. And my deadline is only getting closer.

"Ready to keep going?" Sam asks as he walks back into the living space.

"I actually do have work to do, you know," I snap, regretting it immediately. I sigh and rub my face, trying to get rid of the irritation. "I'm sorry. This isn't what I came here for."

Sam raises his hands in the air, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.

"Is there anything—" he starts, but I cut him off.

"I need to go. This isn't going to work out. I can't be distracted right now." I pick my laptop off the floor, annoyed I set it aside in the first place, and get off the couch. "When I finish writing this article, we can hang out again. Until then, I really need to focus."

"Do what you need to," Sam says, suddenly short.

His tone gives me pause, and I realize I'm taking this out on him. He was just trying to help.

"Hey, I'm sor?—"

An angry chime interrupts me, and we both look at my wrist. Companion is flashing red, a sign that it's failed to sync. I frown and walk over to retrieve my phone from my purse by the door, wondering if the app will give a specific error code. It's probably having an issue giving me the prompt to classify the heart rate-spiking activity I just engaged in. I grin to myself. I've been logging every time we have sex, and since we started dating, I haven't been masturbating, which is out of the ordinary. I had been grabbing Companion's app like every day, telling it I was touching myself yet again.

It's nice to share with Companion that I've been getting laid regularly.

When I open the app, it's just a generic sync error, something I haven't seen before. I toggle the Bluetooth connection on and off, but that doesn't clear it.

"What's up?" Sam asks.

"Oh, sorry!" I realize I've just been sitting here in silence for five minutes. "My Companion is having trouble connecting…" I murmur, wondering if I'll have to reboot the device itself.

"Huh, our new update was just pushed out, I wonder if that has anything to do with it," Sam says to himself, walking over to me to look into the app. "Yeah, I think you'll have to uninstall the app, then reinstall it."

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