“Sam!”
I almost jackknife into a sitting position, but then his tongue gets busy, and all I can do is fist the bed linens and hold on for the ride of my life.
If this isn’t the fast lane, I might want to rethink going into that lane because it could very well kill me dead.
His hands no longer hold me down. Instead, he brushes his fingers up and down the skin of my thighs, making me clench and squirm. When his tongue slips through my folds and inside me, I see stars.
Shooting stars.
Explosive, shooting stars.
I come apart as I cry out, gripping Sam’s hair as I ride the delicious wave of ecstasy.
When the clouds part, Sam leisurely kisses his way up my stomach. When he reaches my breasts, he camps out and pays attention.
“For such a willowy woman, you have great boobs.”
“Ha-ha. Funny.”
“Not funny at all. True.” He licks a nipple and then blows on it, watching in fascination as it hardens. “Sexy.”
“Are we back in the slow lane?”
“Just for a minute,” he says.
I blink.
“You’re naked.”
“So are you.”
“I mean you weren’t naked just a few minutes ago. When did that happen? Are you a wizard or something, who just magically strips off his clothes?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him, and he laughs.
“You were busy enjoying your orgasm when I took them off.”
“I didn’t get to look at you.”
He quirks an eyebrow, and with mischief in his eyes, he stands up and turns in a circle. “Better?”
“Hmm. Turn around again.”
He does as I ask, and I admire his backside. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the man has an ass to write home about. And his back muscles!
He starts to turn back around, but I just say, “Stop.”
“Do I have something stuck to my ass?”
“No, I’m just admiring it.” I sit up and scoot over so I can bite the flesh of his butt. “And we need to talk about your back.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Absolutely nothing at all. The muscle tone is crazy, Sam.”
“All the better to carry you with.” He turns, and I’m eye-level with his very impressive dick. I reach for it and look up to find his eyes narrowing as he watches me intently.
“Hi there.” I kiss the tip, the same way he did my nipples, and then blow on it.
“Natasha.”
“Oh, now you want to get in the fast lane?”
He laughs and tumbles me back onto the bed, then covers me. With those deep blue eyes trained on mine, he sheaths his cock, slides right inside and seats himself, balls-deep.
“Oh, damn.”
Tears threaten. Not because he hurt me or made me do anything I didn’t want to do. No, it’s because I’ve waited years for this. For him. I’m no virgin, but deep down, I always yearned for Sam.
And here he is.
Inside me.
And looking at me as if I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life.
“You okay?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Then why do I see tears swimming in those gorgeous eyes?” He kisses my cheek and brushes his fingers through my hair.
“I’m not crying.”
“Okay.”
I hitch my legs up higher on his hips, and he takes a long, deep breath.
“Sam?”
“Right here, babe.”
“Holy shit, Sam.”
His lips tip up into a sweet smile. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Now, fast lane or slow? It’s up to you.”
“I’m not the only one here.”
“You’re the most important one.”
And just like that, I might have tipped over into love with this man. Real love, not the crush I’ve had for most of my life.
I knew he was special.
I didn’t know he was this incredible.
“Maybe the middle lane?”
He rubs his nose over mine and sets a rhythm, a push and pull that’s right there in the middle. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfect so he hits all the right spots but ensures I don’t finish too quickly.
He takes my good hand, kisses it, and then traps it over my head against the mattress as he picks up speed, just a tiny bit.
“God, I can’t hold back.”
“Don’t. Don’t hold back with me.”
His jaw clenches, and with a low growl, Sam loses himself. All I can do is watch with absolute female satisfaction as he comes apart.
When he pushes in, pulsing and rubbing against my clit, I follow him right over.
“Whoa.” I swallow hard, and then he rolls us onto our sides so he can relax next to me. “Who knew it would be like that?”
“Me.” He brushes a lock of my hair off my cheek. “I knew.”
“Whatever.”
“Do you feel okay? Do you need anything?”
“I’m perfectly happy right now, thanks for asking.” His face is mere inches from mine as we both share my pillow. “Does this change everything?”
“No overthinking,” he says gently. “But, yes. It changes everything.”
“That’s what I thought.”
* * *
“Do I overthink every single thing?” I ask as I make myself at home in Aspen’s kitchen, getting to work on my famous margaritas.