Chapter 29

Lainey

Was he joking? Surely he was. But as I studied him across the kitchen counter, the theory I’d been holding onto about Sam and sex solidified.

“You called me baby three times. Yesterday.”

“No, I didn’t.” His denial was fast and absolute, like the slamming of the dishwasher door. “That term has always seemed too…possessive.”

“You only call me baby when we’re having sex.” I enjoyed the blank look on his face more than I should have. Highly entertaining, the way his eyes darted back and forth like he was trying to replay our sexual encounters. “I don’t mind it. It’s kind of hot, honestly. Especially now that I know you’re being possessive .”

“It’s hot.” It was a question, but didn’t sound like one. He either didn’t believe that I enjoyed it or that he actually said it.

“Do you want me to show you?” My pulse quickened. His eyes went dark as he crept around the counter, wrapping me in those big, strong arms.

“You gonna start calling me ‘baby?’” His words rasped against my ear.

The seductive slide of his palms around my waist woke something needy and sensual inside me. Heat simmered, and I drew a deep breath, trying to slow my rapidly increasing heart rate.

My teeth sank into my lip, coy, as I shook my head. “No. I’ve spent long enough calling you by your last name. Just ‘Sam’ does it for me these days.”

“You called me Samuel earlier.” His nose traced down the side of my face. “I liked that .” The evidence of just how much he’d liked it pushed against my belly. “Like a librarian. Like I’ve been bad.”

I ran my hands up over his chest, loving the warmth under my fingers and hating the fact that he was still wearing a shirt. Why were either of us wearing anything? “Have you? Been bad?”

“I made my girlfriend crash my brother’s birthday,” he murmured, flicking the tip of his tongue over my pulse. My breath left me in a sigh, heat traveling lower and lower. I was already wet for him, and getting wetter by the minute. The sound of him calling me his girlfriend made my heart stutter.

“That’s pretty bad. Maybe I’ll forgive you if you call me baby.”

I felt his smile, right before I felt his teeth nip the side of my neck. He didn’t bite me every time we had sex, but I almost always had a mark or two on me somewhere. Who would have thought that my quiet, considerate attending was so into marking his territory? Who would have thought that I was so into it, too?

His hands cupped my face, thumb ghosting across my jaw. “Sweetheart. Honey. Lainey.” Little kisses pressed to my mouth with every word. I wriggled in his arms. “There’s no way.”

Oh, yes, there was. No matter how effectively his brain disconnected from his vocal cords during sex, he’d remember calling me baby tonight. I’d make sure of that.

“We’ll see.”

I was hated to leave his arms, but the look on his face when I sashayed across his living room and deposited my blouse on the stair railing was worth it. I could practically hear his gulp when he caught the skirt I slid off and kicked back at him. He followed, rapt, as I took the stairs slowly, giving him time to admire the view, a thin scrap of silk the only thing covering my butt.

“Please tell me you’re planning to keep the heels on.” He caressed my spine, feeling the bumps and curves there. He dragged the tip of his finger across the line of lace hugging my rear.

“Maybe.” I leaned against the wall of his bedroom, watching him stalk me with hooded eyes. “Hold on.” He froze the instant I spoke. I spread my fingers across his chest, smoothing the fabric covering his shoulders, lightly scoring my fingernails across his collar, where skin met cotton. He shuddered. His breaths fractured, stuttering in and out while I explored, keeping my touches light and playful.

“Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

Buttons snapped. He nearly tripped over his pants, still peeling off a sock when he rolled onto the mattress, looking at me like I commanded his next breath. It was heady and hot and hilarious.

“A little eager?”

“Honey, you have no idea.” He reached a hand out. “Come here.”

“Hmm, Honey. Not baby, yet?” I purred, sliding across the room and ignoring his outstretched hand. “Sit back against the headboard.”

It banged against the wall. Another funny moment, but all the power was going to my head. Instead of laughing at his impatient rush, I remembered what he’d said to me last week. That I was in control. He had no idea.

If I was really in control, I’d have listened to that panicked voice that still piped up every once in a while to warn me that falling so hard, so fast for a colleague was a bad idea. That I was sleeping with the man in charge of hiring me, and I loathed nepotism. That if it had been up to me, none of this would have happened.

But it had, thank God, because here he was, spread out for me, his hard-on bobbing for my attention, eyes begging me to do anything I wanted to him. I could, I realized, do nearly anything and he’d take it in stride. He exuded the quiet confidence that soothed my inner babbling.

Except in bed, where his mouth and his body competed for which could possess me most thoroughly. That’s what I wanted. Right now.

“That looks uncomfortable.” I crawled up the bed, gratified when he groaned my name, fisting his length and pumping it like he couldn’t fully control himself. “Want some help?”

He hissed when I leaned forward to take his crown into my mouth, stroking. I swirled my tongue, relishing the slick, salty taste of him. He twitched, bumping into the roof of my mouth, saying my name again and again. No baby, yet. What would it take to get him to break? Surrender?

He liked the eye contact, thrusting a little harder into my mouth, grimacing like he was in pain. He hardened more under my stroking fingers.

“Take your bra off.”

I took my time working my way back up his shaft, sliding him out of my mouth with a long lick. I fisted him, working up and down, bumping his length against my cheek. “Please?”

His immediate response of “please, Jesus, fuck” was so gratifying, I didn’t even tease. The moment I sat up and opened the clasp, his eyes fell on my nipples. This made me feel in control. His face openly worshiped me in a way I wasn’t sure I deserved, but liked too much to question. He wanted me, badly. Bad enough to obey every command, grant every wish. I could feel it in the rush of slickness between my legs, the tingle in the peaks of my breasts.

My fingers brushed there, tweaking the tight buds. Sam swallowed, quiet, eyes tracking every move I made. The only evidence of his excitement was the occasional twitch of his cock, but I wanted his words.

“Do you like this? Watching me?”

“Yes.” His response vibrated between us, heavy with lust. Need.

I slipped a hand down my stomach, circling the tip of one finger at the top of my slit. His pupils dilated. “What would you like to watch me do?”

“Touch yourself.”

“I am.”

“More, baby.”

I grinned, heat and triumph blazing through me. “ More, baby .”

He didn’t register my teasing, instead grabbing his dick and squeezing like he was about to burst. “Touch yourself how you’d want my tongue on you. Show me how you want me to lick that sweet pussy.”

I shuddered, my fingers delving into my folds like he was the one calling the shots. His rumble of satisfaction vibrated against my skin. My core quaked in response. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand the inches between us. I crawled forward until I straddled his lap. My breasts pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped low around my hips to pull me closer. I hissed at the contact.

“Sam!”

“What do you need, baby?”

I choked out a laugh, repeating it back to him in broken, halting gasps. “ What do you need, baby ?”

“To see you get yourself off.” He still didn’t get it. He thought it was me saying those things to him, clueless about the words pouring out of his mouth. “To watch you break apart over me.” He fisted my hair, craning my neck backwards to trail a line of stinging kisses down my neck. My hand reached down once more to tease my clit.

He spread his thighs, bumping my legs wider to get a better view. My thumb slicked over my center, the feeling magnified by his eyes on me. I moaned. “Oh, Honey, so good.” He cupped my chin, devouring me with deep, devastating kisses that built up the fire in my belly before he ripped away from me, staring down at my hand once more.

“You want to pump those beautiful fingers inside your cunt, baby? Fuck yourself like you want me to?” I choked on air, slipping my index finger inside. His words were absolutely filthy, too much for me to repeat back to him. Not when I felt like there was lava flowing through my veins, burning me up from the inside out.

“That’s not enough, Sweetheart,” he murmured against my mouth, spearing his tongue inside again and again, setting a rhythm I matched with my fingers. “Give me another. Hell yes, that’s it. You feel how you stretch? Like it’s my cock inside you, baby.”

“Feel h-how you…stretch?” I gasped, wrist twisting to hit that spot inside that always helped send me to the stars. Sam stilled, brow creasing at my words, unable to place them. I bit my lip, writhing against him, begging with my body for him to resume the pinching, grabbing torture on my breasts. “Like it’s my cock inside you, b-baby…”

I quoted back, squeezing my eyes shut as a wave of pleasure rolled through me. Hearing his dirty words echoing around me in surround-sound only elevated my desire. I could barely force them past my throat, they were so wild. But this is what he thought about me, unfiltered. His need for me was completely base and beautiful and desperate, spilling out of his mouth with no thought.

His face cleared, eyes widening in comprehension when he replayed my words. “That’s what I sound like?”

“Yes,” I gasped, desire spilling onto my hand. He gripped my body, holding and stroking me like I was going to fly away.

“And you like that?”

I squeezed his neck with my free hand, kneading the flesh, feverish in my need to pull him closer. I wanted all of him on me. In me. “I love it. So much, Sam, you have n-no ide-e-a…” My voice caught, the inferno roaring in my ears. My fingers worked inside, reaching for that one spot I needed.

“So possessive, and you fucking love it. You love that you’re mine.” I slowed, feeling his gaze burn across my body. It was possessive, and I did love it. It lit the fuse that I hadn’t quite been able to start myself. I bit back a cry when he placed his hand over mine, moving my fingers in and out in a rhythm only he could master. “Look at you, baby, dripping for me.”

“Sam,” I groaned, waves of heat licked up my breasts, my neck. Something about the way he moved me to suit him, my hand obeying him, made me realize I wasn’t in control anymore. I hadn’t been for a long, long time.

“I love the way my name sounds in your mouth, Honey. Say it again while you play with yourself. Come all over me just so I can push up inside you and make you fall apart all over again.”

“Fuck.” I lunged, glimpsing the shock on his face an instant before I slammed my mouth onto his, clawing and grasping my way further onto his lap. I was going to die if he wasn’t inside me right now. I fumbled beneath me, hearing his muttered curses when I gripped him, lined him up where I needed him.

He’d been right. I was dripping. I sank onto him fully in just two strokes, settling on his lap and taking him to the hilt, rising on my knees to envelop him again and again and again. Fingers dug into flesh. Our cries mingled together. His hard length hit that perfect spot inside me, sending me over the edge in seconds, stoking that fire even brighter.

“You ride me like a dream. So good.”

Our mouths clashed, even while I struggled to breathe with the swirl of sensation tumbling around me. I was coming again. He gripped my body, hugging me tighter, anchoring me through the storm while he continued those steady, upward thrusts. His litany of dirty talk took everything to a new place. Higher and hotter, until his words started slurring, running together. He pounded into me, sloppy and irregular.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck me just like that. God damn, Lainey. You’re so perfect. So fucking perfect, baby. I love it, I love…”

He bit my lip, hard, the sting distracting me for just a moment from what he’d been about to confess. And then it was over. Another wave of pleasure crested alongside the sting of my lip, and Sam pulsed inside me, hot and strong.

I collapsed on top of him, breathing hard, like him. Warm palms swept up and down my back, stroking while he came down from his own climax.

“You called me baby,” I mumbled into his neck. He gripped my butt, squeezing.

“You said fuck. I think I win.”

I swallowed, still panting, replaying his last words in my head. “I love it, I love…” you . I knew it. I knew it to the depth of my soul. That’s what he’d been about to say. And he meant it. I knew that, too.

But I wasn’t sure he remembered it, whether it was just one more muttered, mindless prayer to leave his lips mid-penetration. I wasn’t sure if he was ready to say it yet. Most importantly, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for him to say it yet. Asking him felt like I’d be poking the hornet’s nest.

I stayed curled up against him long after our breath settled and he’d gently guided my feet out of the heels I’d completely forgotten about. I fell asleep curled up against him, the unspoken words swirling around us in the darkness.