Chapter 20

"What is this?" I try to tone back my excitement when Samuel steps into the room carrying a lavishly decorated black gift box.

Carrying it across the room, he carefully sets in on my lap, and I can't pull my eyes from the ornate box. It's matte black with a black, glossy, paisley design adorning the lid, all of it topped with a silky, white bow. Samuel delicately slips his finger under my chin before lightly tipping it up toward his face, drawing my eyes to his.

"I want you to have everything you've ever wanted." He dips his head and tenderly kisses my lips. "Everything. Things you didn't even know you desired."

Samuel takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me and waits patiently for me to open the box. I pull on the white silk, and the ribbons slide from the box to my lap and the floor. My fingers linger over the smooth detailing covering the lid as I lift it off the box. Beneath it lies tissue paper with a similar paisley detailing. Peeling it back, I find a dress.

As I lift it from the box, I immediately recognize it as the gorgeous hot pink monstrosity I was eyeing the other day—only it's not that horrid shade of pink. The one I'm lifting from the box is a deep burgundy.

My favorite color.

"Samuel," I gasp in awe of the thoughtfulness of his gift.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!" I exclaim as I hold it against me. "But…How did you?"

"I saw how disappointed you were, so I called in a few favors," he explains as I carefully lay the dress back into the box. "Everything you could ever want; I'll give to you."

The way Samuel dotes on me is unlike anything I've ever experienced. Things like remembering how I like my coffee, or my favorite color are small; but somehow, the way he presents his knowledge of them feels so meaningful. So not normal for me. But going to outlandish lengths for this dress…. I don't think I've ever met a man willing to do something like that.

For me or anyone else.

The things he says about wanting to take care of me aren't complete bullshit. He truly wants to. He enjoys it so much that it's almost as though he gets off on spoiling me and making me happy.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lean down to kiss him. A soft, tender thank-you kiss that I find myself unable to pull back from. Lingering against his lips, he lightly flicks his tongue between mine, and I don't hesitate to let him in. Our tongues sweep teasingly against each another as we each begin to grow breathless. The kiss between us growing more needy, I climb into his lap, straddling him.

Gripping my hips, he slides me up his thighs and against his hips until I can feel him growing hard beneath me. Using his firm hands to guide me, he grinds me over his length.

"Do you like how I take care of you?" He shifts his weight, sliding me onto one of his thighs. A rigid, muscular thigh that he continues to rub my hips against.

"You spoil me, Samuel." I breathlessly grunt the words as I slide my pussy along the hard bulges of his quad while his hands begin to travel up my spine. His fingers dig into my skin, and I can't stifle the moan that rattles from me.

Slipping his fingers into my hair, I practically melt into his hands as I continue to work myself over his thigh. He takes a fistful of my the hair, and he roughly tips my head to the side before sinking his teeth into the crook of my neck.

And there he is, the other side of him.

Samuel is Jekyll and Hyde. Two vastly different men living in the same body. One soft and tender. The other brutal and depraved. He flips between the two of them sporadically.

It's exhausting.

Absurd.

Crazy.

No, Cora.

Crazy is delving into his fantasy, letting it become your own.

His behavior isn't normal. It's unhinged, even. Yet here I am, yearning for more of him.

The sweetness. The darkness. All of it.

Samuel draws back from my neck, and my skin is already tender where he has marked me. He pulls even harder at my hair, forcing me to arch my back and grind down even harder on his thigh.

"Your perfect little cunt is so fucking needy. Soaking my pants and begging for my cock." His voice is deep and gravelly as he stares into my eyes. Standing us both from the table, Samuel roughly drops me face-first onto the sofa, pushing my sundress up my back, and he climbs on top of me.

The familiar feeling of silk dusts over my skin as Samuel slips it under my throat. Gripping the ribbon, he crosses it against my back and yanks it to my hips. Pulling it taut around my throat as he slips inside of me, and he growls, "I know exactly what you need."

And it's fucking terrifying how right he is.