17. Chapter 17

Chapter seventeen

Blue

T his bundle of books in my arms feels ridiculous. Sammy, with his boundless kindness, gifted me something truly wondrous. Perfect and thoughtful and incredible. A fragment of the ocean, shimmering with untold beauty. A taste of home. It was as though he'd handed me a miracle. And here I stand, clutching a stack of children's books, ready to knock on his door. It really is a pathetic offering in comparison.

The sound of his laughter, a pure, unrestrained melody of joy, reaches my ears. The corners of my mouth tug upwards. There's something infectious about Sammy's laughter, the way it fills the space and spills over into your own heart, making it impossible not to smile.

I knock softly.

"Come in," comes his cheerful invitation.

I push the door open to find him sprawled on his bed, his hair a tousled mess, eyes crinkled in amusement as he scrolls on his phone.

"What's so funny?" I ask, curiosity piqued.

Sammy looks up, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "A video of a donkey playing with a rubber chicken," he says, his voice bubbling with laughter.

He replays the video, angling the screen so I can see. Sammy's laughter, a mix of snorts and giggles, is so delightfully absurd that I can't help but chuckle along.

I place the books on his bedside table and slide on to the bed next to him, feeling the mattress dip under our combined weight. Sammy, ever the sweetheart, turns off his phone and nestles it amongst his blankets, his attention now fully on me. He looks at the books, his head tilted slightly in curiosity.

"What's with the books?" he asks, his gaze bouncing from the stack to my face. His blue eyes are expectant, a little guarded, but mostly filled with intrigue.

I offer him a tentative smile, hoping he'll understand. "I thought I'd give you your first reading lesson."

The transformation on Sammy's face is immediate and profound. His eyes widen to an almost comical degree, and his mouth forms a perfect ‘O' of surprise. For a moment, he just stares at me, and I feel a pang of anxiety. What if he doesn't want this? What if I've overstepped?

"There are a range of different stages here," I continue, hoping to break the silence. "I thought we'd start by seeing where you're at and then take it from there."

Sammy's eyes glisten, and his lips quiver slightly. It's a heartbreaking expression, a mixture of disbelief and hope. "You actually meant it?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion. "You're really willing to spend that much time on me?"

My heart aches at his words. How could anyone have ever made him feel like he wasn't worth the effort? Sammy, with his laughter, his kindness, his warmth. He deserves all the time in the world and more. I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat, and hand him a brightly colored baby book, the kind with thick cardboard pages and vibrant pictures.

Our fingers brush as he takes it from me, sending a pleasant warmth through my skin, like touching a box jellyfish but without the sting. It's a sensation that radiates through my body, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake .

Sammy looks down at the book, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Baby books?" he questions, with the faintest hint of a frown marring his features.

"It's how I taught myself," I explain with a shrug, trying to ease his discomfort.

His gaze snaps back to mine, his eyes filled with doubt. "I'm not clever like you," he mutters, looking away. "I'm super slow."

The vulnerability in his words tugs at my heart. I wish I could make him see what I see. The intelligence behind those beautiful eyes, the capacity for learning and growth. But he won't believe me if I just tell him. Actions will speak louder.

"I don't mind if you take all the time in the world," I say softly, hoping to reassure him.

A blush creeps along Sammy's cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. He looks back down at the book, his finger tracing the large, colorful letters on the cover.

"A is for Apple," he reads, his voice barely above a whisper.

I smile, feeling a rush of pride and affection. "That's right," I say gently, leaning closer.

He looks up at me, a small smile tugging at his lips.

We spend the next hour working through a few of the books, letter by letter, word by word. Sammy's concentration is intense, his brow furrowed in deep focus as he sounds out each syllable. Occasionally, he glances at me for reassurance, and each time I nod, offering encouragement and praise. His progress is slow, but it's steady, and with each word he conquers, I see a flicker of pride in his eyes.

At one point, Sammy's finger hovers over the page, tracing the outline of a word. "Because," he says, his voice filled with wonder, as if the act of reading is a magic spell he's learning to cast. He looks at me, and his eyes are shining.

"I'm doing it," he whispers, almost as if he can't believe it himself .

"You are," I affirm, feeling a swell of emotion. "You're doing great, Sammy."

He grins, a full, radiant smile that lights up his whole face. It's a sight that fills me with warmth and hope. This is just the beginning, I realize. There will be challenges, moments of frustration, perhaps even tears. But there will also be moments like this. Moments of triumph, of joy, of discovery. Having Sammy in my life, as a friend, is going to fill my world with wonder.

As we finish the book, Sammy leans back against his pillows, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. He looks at me, his eyes soft and filled with gratitude.

"Thank you," he murmurs, reaching out to touch my hand but stopping himself and hovering his hand over mine. "Thank you for believing in me."

I swallow tightly and take his hand. "Anytime," I say casually.

I kissed him in the aquarium. Held him in my arms. Admittedly, it was to share my power with him, but after that, surely I can cope with a little hand holding?

Sammy's eyes light up with delight and he gently squeezes my hand.

We sit for a while longer, and the room fills with a comfortable silence. The sun has dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over us, bathing Sammy's room in a warm, amber light.

The stack of books on the bedside table seems less pathetic now. They are the first steps on a journey we'll take together, a journey towards confidence, self-discovery, and a deeper connection.

Sammy shifts beside me, nestling closer, and I wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. It almost feels like the most natural thing in the world. I can't believe I'm doing this.

"I think we made a good start today," I say, my voice a soft murmur against his hair.

He nods, his head resting against my shoulder. "Yeah," he agrees, his voice filled with a quiet satisfaction. "We did. "

And we both know we are talking more about my growing ability to touch him, than his reading lesson.

He squirms a little, and I sense his unease before I taste his arousal.

"Sorry," he whispers.

"It's fine," I assure him.

"It's just, you know, cuddling in bed with my favorite person. My body is bound to get confused."

My heart thumps. Low and heavy. I'm Sammy's favorite person? That's wonderful. He is definitely mine. And that's not just the mate bond influencing my thoughts.

Our gazes lock. "It's okay," I say. Hopefully, he can see the truth of my words in my eyes.

Sammy's lust doesn't scare me. It's not predatory. He desires me, not my flesh. It's me he wants, not my body.

His arousal flows down our mate bond. It perfumes the air between us. I watch as his eyes grow dark and heavy with it.

"Do you wanna watch again?" he asks shyly.

I swallow and nod. I do want that. More than I have ever wanted anything.

Sammy sits up and moves away from me. He pulls his tee shirt off and his hair goes all frizzy. He licks his lips with his deliciously pink tongue. Then he lifts his hips off the bed and pulls his sweatpants off. He is not wearing any underwear. His cock is firm. Standing proud.

An idea swims through my mind and takes a hold of me. I can't shake it off.

"I…er…saw something in your drawer last time. When I got the baby oil," I stammer.

Sammy's cheeks turn a cute shade of pink. "The vibrating butt plug?"

I nod.

"You want me to use it?" he asks.

I nod again. It seems I have forgotten how to talk .

"Okay," says Sammy. His voice is all breathy and beautiful.

Silently, I turn and fetch the plug and the baby oil out of the drawer and hand both to him. He takes them, and I watch, mesmerized, as he smothers the cone-shaped plug with oil. The silicone is black, and it gleams when it is oiled.

Sammy hands me the bottle of baby oil. Then he lies down on his back and spreads his legs. I stare into his eyes as he works the plug into his body. His eyes sparkle with pleasure and I could drink in the sight forever.

"The remote is in the drawer," he grins.

Wordlessly, I grab it and hold it out to him.

He shakes his head. "You take it."

My heart skips and my stomach swoops. Desire coils in my guts. Sammy has all the best ideas.

He slowly raises his hands above his head and takes a firm hold of the headboard. His tongue slides along his plump bottom lip and he nods.

I press the on button.

He tilts his head back, baring his long, slender throat to me. The buzzing sound of the plug is harsh, but I love that it is already giving Sammy pleasure.

I turn the dial down. I don't want this to end too soon. Sammy deserves hours and hours of pleasure. As much as his body and mind can take. I'll bring him to the edge over and over again until he is bucking and writhing and screaming my name.

Then I will stare deep into his beautiful eyes as his peak rolls through him and takes down all his walls, enabling me to see his naked soul.

It's going to be exquisite.