“Oh, that Miyamoto Musashi. Sure, of course. I have his collected works upstairs in my suitcase.”
He ignored my sarcasm, and continued on with the massage. And, apparently, the history lesson. “There’s some debate about whether Musashi was the greatest swordsman of all time. But what nobody questions was his judgment. He studied his rivals for years, only challenging them when he was good and ready, and never letting his ambition cloud his choice. Because one wrong decision of opponent or timing and he would die.”
“There’s a lesson here, I just know it.”
“If one of the greatest warriors of all time needed to learn to pick his fights, then maybe you can too.”
I sighed. “Okay. Message received.” His thumbs dug into something particularly needy in my neck and I groaned in bliss. “Why couldn’t you have done this last night in the pool house?”
“Because you were drunk and needed to sleep it off.”
“That’s what irritates me the most about Adam opening his big mouth and telling them. It’s not even like anything happened afterwards,” I said. “There’s a reason why they call it a booty call instead of a spooning call, Sam.”
He chuckled, talented fingers moving down one of my arms, working the sore muscles. Of course, this necessitated him fitting his front to my back. Goosebumps raced up and down my spine at his nearness. If only his body against mine didn’t feel so good. Made holding out against him nearly impossible.
“Where’s all this tension coming from?” he asked, rubbing at my wrist before moving onto the palm of my hand, undoing the tape as he went. “Have a rough day, my love?”
“You’re going to insist on calling me that no matter how many times I ask you not to, aren’t you?”
“Sorry. It just slips out. Does it really bother you?”
I shrugged, unwilling or unable to answer. I didn’t know. His slick mouth teased my neck while he massaged my fingers before moving on to the other arm. Teeth nibbled at the sensitive lobes of my ear. It made me all tingly. “I’m sweaty.”
“I like you sweaty,” he said, voice lower than usual. The man was definitely turned on, as the hardening cock against my butt signalled. Made it impossible not to press back against him. His arm muscles flexed, holding me tighter while keeping up with the massage. No doubts regarding Sam’s ability to multi-task. “Sorry for holding out on you last night.”
“You and your annoying morals. Though it probably was the right thing to do given how drunk I was.” I sighed, reaching back to stroke my fingers over the stubble on the back of his shaved head. The thick muscles of his neck. Every chance I did some grabbing and kneading of my own. Honestly, my own body’s reaction to him was crazy. Already, my core ached with need as if I hadn’t had sex in ages.
“Still,” I said. “Maybe I should hold out on you just the same.”
“You don’t really want to do that, love.” His voice sounded far too confident. “We have far too much fun together when we play nicely.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely. I like your sports bra.”
“It’s nothing special.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But the woman in it is.”
“Smooth line, Sam. I’m impressed. Is there a lock on that door?”
“Brilliant minds think alike. I locked it when we came in.” He kissed a line down the side of my neck, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of my shorts. While his fingers might have been thick, they certainly were dexterous. First he cupped my mound, petting those lips lightly. “You have such a sweet cunt, love. How lucky am I to be the man who gets to play with it?”
I smiled. “Sweet? How would you know? You’ve never even tasted it.”
“Now that’s a very good point.”
Strong arms lifted me, laying me on a bench press or whatever you call those things. My shorts and underwear were whisked down my legs. Only sneakers are kind of a pain in the ass to get clothes over. So they needed to go too. With an impatient growly noise, Sam dealt with them and the socks, and then the clothes. All of it was thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. I’d never seen a man in such a hurry to get at me. In the end, all I still wore was the bra. He knelt at the end of the bench, parted my legs with his hands, and stopped.
Just fucking stopped.
“What are you doing?” I asked, craning my neck to see.
“I don’t want to rush this.”
“Well, I do.”
“Shh, relax.” Hands stroked the outside of my thighs, placing my legs gently over his big shoulders. And all the while, he stared at my vagina like he was transfixed or something. “You’re so beautiful, Martha. Every part of you. I want you to feel cherished.”
Huh. “Thank you.”
He kissed the inside of my thigh. Yet went no closer.
“Can you take a photo with your cell later and cherish that instead?”
“What a lovely idea. I’ll do that too.”
I groaned. “Sam…”
With a quick grin, he dipped his head and licked up my center. Christ. My back bowed, eyelids fluttering closed. I’d already been wet when he started touching me. Now I was drenched. Fingers dug into my flesh, holding my legs apart for him to feed. Because the man ate me like he was starving. There could be no other description. Some guys just gave you a lick or two then moved on to the fucking segment of the evening as if they’d ticked the good guy head box and had earned their reward. But not so with Sam. He licked and stroked and generally drove me out of my mind. If his whole upper body wound up covered in my juices, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.
The man obviously loved going down on a woman.
Well, this woman, at least.
His tongue dragged, dug, circled, and swirled over and around the pertinent parts of my anatomy. As if he needed to learn me inside and out for some later test. Without a doubt, he’d have passed with flying colors. The first orgasm hit me hard and had me shaking from top to toe. The second swept through me like a wave of ecstasy. Forget massages for total body and muscle relaxation. Unless they were massages done by Sam’s tongue to my pussy. Sign me up for one of those suckers any day.
“And you’re especially beautiful,” he said with a smile, wiping off his face with a hand, “right after you’ve come.”
I lay on the bench, still twitching, watching as he took off his shirt and shorts. Such a sight to see. The rock-hard length of his cock pointed straight at the ceiling. And I wanted it, I really did. But there was just one small problem. “I’m not sure I can move.”
“Let me help.” He lifted me off the bench so carefully, wrapping my legs around him seemed only polite. “Is the wall all right with you? The bench is the wrong height and the flooring’s a bit rough in here. Wouldn’t want you to get carpet burn on your soft skin.”
“The wall is fine.”
“Excellent.”
With my spine pressed to the cool flat surface, he reached between us, positioning the broad, blunt head of his cock at my entrance. There was less wriggling this time on account of me being so wet. In he pushed, slowly lowering me onto him. God, the feeling of fullness, the stretch of him inside me. Twenty-four hours was far too long to go without. I pressed my lips against his, kissing him deep and hungry. No need for messing around. No worrying about if he wanted me plastered all sweaty against his skin.
Sam knew me and wanted me. How much was honestly a little scary.
Hips flexing, he fucked himself into me time and again. Each measured perfect thrust stealing my breath and blowing my mind. His fingers tightened on my ass, digging in to hold me in place. The man steadily nailed me to the damn wall. Only he kept subtly, slightly shifting his position, searching for something. I didn’t realize what until he hit something inside my pussy that made my whole body clench.
“There we go,” he said.
“Christ. That’s why they call them drill sergeants, huh?”