He released a nipple and looked up at me. “Is that the way your pussy asks for attention?”
I nodded, a little embarrassed.
“Don’t hold back. I like you needy,” he said as his fingers dipped beneath my panties, his middle finger finding my clit. Infuriatingly, he just rested his finger lightly on my nub and went back to work on my other nipple.
“Please,” I cried out, tilting my hips in an effort to create some friction against his finger.
“There,” he said, slowly circling my clit. “I like to hear everything. Even if it means we fight and then make up. I want to know everything that’s going on in your head, my princess.”
“Kiss me,” I said with a smile. “But don’t move your hand.”
He grinned and pressed his lips against mine, his tongue delving deeper.
“You feel so good, like coming home,” he said as he pulled back to look at me. It was the biggest compliment Sam could have paid me. I understood how difficult it must have been to let me in, but I knew he wanted to, and I would do anything in return. I swept my hands down his back.
I unhooked my bra and tossed it away while Sam pulled off my panties. I clasped my hands over his shoulders. I liked the feel of him under my fingers. He was so solid, so safe.
In one swift movement, he slid me to him, my back to his front, and lifted my leg up and back so it leaned on his. I loved the warmth of him enveloping me in this position. “You ready, Princess?” he asked as he teased my sex with the tip of his cock.
“Always,” I said. I waited as he slipped on a condom.
“I’ve wanted you so bad all weekend. We have a lot of catching up to do.” He thrust into me, his hand on my hip, pushing me onto him. My body sagged in relief at having him inside me. This was how it should be. Always.
“I’ve missed this,” I said. “Missed you.”
“You never need to miss it.” He dragged himself out and thrust up again. “I’m going to try, for you, Grace.”
His tender words coupled with his hard fucking were the perfect combination. Had he meant what he said?
My mind went blank as my body began to buzz from the inside out with the beginning of an orgasm.
“Fuck,” Sam yelled, then pulled out, rolling to his back. “I was so close—too close—I want to make this last,” he said.
I liked that he’d only been in me a few seconds before his need to come had overtaken him. I shifted to face him and placed a kiss on his sticky, hot chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking my back. “I have no control around you.”
“That’s okay.”
He swept his hand down my body, his fingers finding my clit. He stared deep into my eyes as he circled and circled. His gaze made his touch all the stronger. The buzz built in my stomach this time. His movements were steady and small, as if he were patiently and carefully pulling my orgasm from me. I gripped his arm, keeping him in position.
I let out a groan and he took my bottom lip between his teeth, then slid his tongue into my mouth in strong, possessive strokes, as if to remind me I was his. I groaned and seeped onto his fingers as my body shook and then dissolved into my climax.
“Jesus, I love it when you come,” he said, pushing me to my back and sliding over me.
I couldn’t speak. Just smiled and cupped his face with my palm.
As he pushed into me, pleasure crept up his face. Giving him that sensation was so powerful, I felt myself grow wetter, despite just having come.
“Christ,” he called out. The muscles in his neck tensed and I stroked a finger over them. “Fuck, Grace.”
I gasped as he slipped his hand underneath my ass and pulled me up, increasing his rhythm. I was vaguely aware of my headboard cracking against the drywall as his thrusts became more urgent.
I lifted my legs, wanting to give him more, to pull him closer. He thrust deeper, his breaths heavy on my neck peppered with “You’re all mine” and “Forever.”
“I think we should definitely get a car,” Sam said and I turned to look at him as I was locking the door to my apartment, checking to see if I’d heard him right. “And a driver.”
Was I reading too much into him saying we? “A driver?”
“Yeah. We get cabs every day anyway. A driver can drop me at work, then take you to the gallery. If either of us need it, we have it. You agree?” He took my hand, despite the fact that going down stairs side by side was slightly awkward.
He was talking about a future together—I’d never heard that from him before. “Well, I am a Park Avenue princess, so of course I agree.”
The air was chilly as we stepped outside, an icy wind tunneled down the street. Some early snow had settled while we were away, but most of it had disappeared. “I think it might snow again,” I said as Sam craned his neck looking for a cab. “Let’s walk to the corner.” I pulled on his arm.
“The trip won’t be as far when we’re on Park Avenue,” he said. “And we won’t have to wait in the cold for a cab.”
There was that word again. We. I grinned.
Before long a cab pulled up and Sam opened the door for me to climb in.
“The bed arrives tonight,” he said as he sat next to me. “Where do you want to stay?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah. Tonight. Tomorrow.”
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was on the brink of suggesting we move in together. Although I’d detected a shift within him since Connecticut, I wasn’t expecting it to be freewheeling from now on.
“We could have Angie and Chas over on the weekend,” he said. “Maybe even Harper, Max and all the kids.”
“Maybe.” I didn’t want to push him, or bring back painful memories if he wasn’t ready. I was determined to give him some time and space to process everything.
“I really like them. We should invite them.” He squeezed my hand and looked out the window.
“Just here on the left,” he said to the driver as we approached the gallery.
The cab stopped and Sam put his hand on mine. “Hey. Before you go. I . . . about that thing you said in Connecticut?”
I held my breath, unsure what he was going to say, but so hopeful it was what I wanted to hear. I’d not repeated my I love you—I didn’t want to trigger anything. I nodded.
“Well,” he said, then took a deep breath. “Yeah, well I feel the same.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sam
I’d known I’d loved her since our argument in Connecticut. It was part of the reason I was so mad—she’d managed to make me love her despite all the odds, and despite my every effort not to.
She narrowed her eyes as if she hadn’t heard me correctly.
“You know,” I said, wanting to say the actual words but finding it a struggle to push them out. She squeezed my hand. She wasn’t going to make me say it but she deserved to hear it.
“I love you,” I said.
Her eyes became watery and I reached to cup her face. I didn’t want her to be sad.
“I love you, Sam Shaw.”
I nodded and tried to bite back a grin.
The cab driver cleared his throat. “I better go,” she said.