Page 78 of Wishing Hearts

“I need you flat on your back,” I tell him.

Sam doesn’t question me. He simply scoots down the bed, moaning about the vibe doin’ such good things as he goes. The moment he’s flat atop the mattress, I climb up over his body and press his hands above his head. His eyes widen when I roll a condom down his shaft and then hold the base of his cock, positioning myself over him. He opens his mouth, but as his crown slips inside my body, his eyes roll back, and his voice is lost. I drop down quickly, too goddamn eager for this man, and with one hand wrapped around the tie between Sam’s wrists, I reach back and turn the vibrator on.

Sam jolts, his muscles bunching, hands tensing into fists as I start to ride him. For once, he doesn’t say a single word, only stares at me with unfailing focus and dark eyes as I bounce on his cock, rolling my hips the same way I was doing during my striptease. The tie around his wrists keeps him bound, but I know Sam could move if he really wanted to. He told me as much, that he could untie himself easily. This isn’t about giving up control for him, the way I think something like this would be for me. This is about giving me himself, just like he’s been doing ever since he walked into my life.

He’s been giving me pieces of himself every single day.

“You, Sam. You make me feel…”

“What?” he asks, chest flushed. It rises and falls rapidly as I fuck myself down on his cock.

“So much,” I answer, moving my hand from his wrists down to his chest. Reaching back, I kick the toy up a notch, knowing the settings by feel at this point, and Sam shuts his eyes tight, his jaw tensed and his abs contracted.

I’m not sure how much longer he can last.

“Sam,” I croak. He opens his eyes in an instant, and I get stuck there. Trapped in that transparent gaze. I feel like I’m on the edge of some precipice, teetering, waiting to jump. “I need…”

“Anythin’,” he says.

“I need you to touch me.”

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He twists his wrists, tugging at his binding with one hand and quickly unfurling the tie. It drops, loose, to the bed, and Sam reaches for me. Hands on my ass, fingers digging into my flesh, he tugs me down as his hips punch upwards, and I’m lost. I’m lost and in freefall as Sam’s cock and touch and deep, rumbled groans light me up from the inside out. It won’t take but a touch to splinter apart, and as Sam’s hand wraps around my cock, I’m there, coming across his chest as my release courses through my body like I’m a live wire and Sam my power source. It’s unstoppable, and I wouldn’t stop it even if I could. But I know, as Sam stutters out a moan, hips grinding against me as he comes, that whatever this is—whatever we’re building day by day, step by step—is something I’m going to see through to the end.

Maybe we will crash. Maybe we’ll fizzle out, no spark left between us in the end. But I’m going to try. I’m damn well going to try.

And that—that feels like a revelation.

As Sam’s fingers loosen their grip on my ass, the man himself groans. “Harrison, you gotta turn it off.”

I bark a laugh, reaching behind me to stop the vibrator, and Sam’s body falls lax.

“Fuck,” he sums up.

“Fuck,” I agree.

Sam gives me a grin, big and lopsided, and I lean down, cupping his chin as I bring my lips to his. So sweet. So earnest.

“I think,” he says when I sit upright, “I like your methods of torture, Officer.”

I chuckle as I hold Sam’s condom in place, easing myself off his body. He rubs my thigh, turning toward me as I crash, spent, down to the mattress.

“So, good Bad Cop?” I ask.

“Best Bad Cop,” he says, watching me for a moment. Neither of us seems to be in a hurry to clean up, and the vibe is still in Sam’s ass, but I don’t think he minds now that it’s off. “D’you think…”

“What?” I ask, running my fingers over Sam’s shorn hair. He hums.

“D’you think you’d like bein’ tied up sometime?”

I swallow, the idea more than appealing. “Yeah,” I tell him. “I think I’d like that.”

He smiles a little wickedly, and I swear I can already see the gears turning.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” I tell him, running my finger through the cum on his chest. “Before we fall asleep like the debauched mess we are.”

“I like bein’ a debauched mess with you,” he says, although he does sit up, a little gingerly, mind you, because of the toy. “I mean, fuck, stud. D’you realize how goddamn sexy that was, you ridin’ me like that? I don’t know how I didn’t come the moment you sank down on my cock.”

“And there’s that mouth I love so much,” I tease.

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