Page 46 of Wishing Hearts

God, yes.

His thumb presses up against the underside of my jaw, lifting my head, and Sam licks up the length of my neck. He closes his teeth gently over my chin, and I instinctually tug my hands, but Sam simply tightens his grip.

“Not done,” he says, running his thumb along my neck as his lips travel lower. My pulse hammers, and I wonder if he can feel it. I wonder if he can tell exactly how damn turned on I am right now.

Sam detours down my chest, laying little kisses across my pecs, flicking the skin with the tip of his tongue. Even his torture is playful. And goddamn filthy with the way that tongue of his moves. With one hand holding my wrists, the other wrapped possessively around my neck, Sam pulls my nipple into his mouth, and I damn near shoot off the bed.

“Shh,” he reminds me, chuckling darkly as I muffle my moan against the side of my arm. Sam flicks my nipple with his tongue, draws a circle around it, and then blows against the skin.

“Fuck,” I mutter, squirming. “Sam.”

“Hm?” he hums, dragging his lips to the other side of my chest. He gives that nipple a closed-mouth kiss. “You wanna fight me some more, or are you gonna let me worship you?”

Shit, what can I even say to that?

I know he’s giving me the choice, too. They’re not idle words. I can tell Sam isn’t the type of guy who needs dominance in the bedroom. But he’s happy to have it, and he’ll do all sorts of wonderful things to my body if I just let him.

Sometimes I like the fight. But sometimes, I just want… I just…

My hands relax against the bed before I’ve made the conscious decision, and Sam rumbles against my nipple, the vibration of it sending a shock of energy down my spine.

“Good choice,” Sam mutters before rolling me swiftly onto my stomach.

I gasp out as Sam’s hand presses down on the small of my back, fingers splayed wide to hold me in place.

“Look at you,” he says, the words so quiet I wonder if I’m meant to hear them.

Sam does nothing for a beat, and my heart pounds. I have no idea what he’s planning, so when his teeth clamp onto the meat of my ass, I nearly shout in surprise. I grab the nearest pillow, stuffing it against my face, and Sam chuckles, his fingers skimming over the mark he surely left on my skin. Both of his hands drag down my thighs next, and his mouth follows, skipping leg to leg as he peppers me with kisses. When he gives the back of my thigh a slap, I’m glad for the pillow between my teeth.

“Up,” Sam says.

Scrambling, I get my knees under me, and then there’s Sam’s stubble, drifting across my ass cheek.

“Rimmin’?” he asks.

A whine precedes my, “God, yes. Yes, yes.”

Sam must hear me through the pillow because he spreads my cheeks. My breath comes short. Anticipation. Excitement. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone—

Ahh.

Sam’s tongue drags bluntly across my rim, and I moan loudly into the pillow. He rumbles again, fingertips digging into my ass cheeks, and then, he sets to work. I have never had to try so damn hard to keep my noises in check before, but it’s all I can do not to scream my appreciation for Sam’s wicked fucking tongue as he reduces me to a puddle of needy, aching mush.

“Sammy,” I groan, not sure whether I want more of this torment or less. Whether I want to come right now or have Sam’s face buried in my ass for the next seven days. His bristle has started to burn along my skin, but I don’t even care. I’ll wear his beard burn like a badge of honor. Seems like a small price to pay for the rimming of a lifetime.

Sam pulls back. “Whatever you want,” he says, sounding entirely serious. “Whatever you need.”

I move the pillow off my face. “I want… I need…” God, I don’t even know.

Sam laves his tongue over me again, slowly, before he gives my ass cheek a little kiss. The next moment, I’m being spun onto my back. I roll easily, no resistance left in my body, and Sam presses my legs wide, his big hands against the inside of my thighs. My chest heaves as he crawls forward, his eyes intent on me all the while. I’m no blushing virgin, but shit. Sam’s gaze makes me feel like one—like all of this is new. Like I’m young again, experiencing something I just know will rock me to my core.

Sam hooks my legs over his arms, and with a little tug, my knees settle atop his shoulders. I know what’s coming a second before Sam acts, but it doesn’t make it any less shocking when his tongue licks broadly up my cock. My head hits the mattress, and I stare, blinking up at my white ceiling as Sam engulfs my crown.

“Ahh, Sam.”

A pillow lands on my face, and I’d laugh if I wasn’t so thankful to have something to muffle my moans because Sam draws more of me into his mouth, and I am not quiet. He chuckles against me, the wicked, wicked man, but good grief, I don’t care. His mouth feels so good. So good. All that heat and pressure surrounding my cock. His tongue deserves an ode for what it’s doing to me. Sam deserves an ode. The man is… He’s…

Mine.

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