Chapter Eight
Samantha
“So where does Marge sleep?” Ian asked as he followed me down the hall, back into my bedroom. After pizza and soft conversation while a movie played in the background, we’d begun exchanging soft kisses again, kisses that heated up until I sat up and declared that I was ready to go back to bed. He’d copped only a single feel on our way up the stairs, and even after I swatted his hand away with a giggle, I could feel the weight of his gaze on my barely clothed body.
And I liked it.
“She’ll be fine down on her bed in the living room for tonight,” I said as I swung my bedroom door open and walked inside. “Besides, I don’t want an audience for tonight—do you?”
I laughed as Ian made a face and shook his head. “Didn’t think so.”
I moved over to the side of the bed I usually slept on and pulled the covers back, sliding in between the sheets with a sigh. On the other side, Ian did the same, and we both rolled in toward the center, toward each other, with warm bodies and warmer thoughts.
“I’m really glad you came over tonight,” I said softly. I wiggled closer and wound a thigh around his hips. “And I’m glad you’re staying.”
Ian smiled, and not for the first time, I marveled at the beauty of it. The honesty behind it. Maybe because he was a man who had suffered for his joy, worked hard to find it again—he’d told me the story over dinner—but something about his smile seemed more genuine than almost any other I had seen.
“I’m glad I’m staying, too,” he murmured, and inched closer to press a soft kiss to my lips before moving on top of me in a tangle of warm and weary limbs under the reassuring weight of the covers.
Sex was different this time—sweeter and softer, I thought as he gently pulled away my t-shirt and panties, then shucking his boxers until we lay skin-to-skin, exchanging sensual, lingering kisses as our fingers skimmed across one another’s bodies. I reached down and grasped his cock in my fist, stroking firmly while he hummed his approval against my breast. His long fingers trailed down my belly and between my legs, exploring the damp flesh with lazy male satisfaction as I gasped and stiffened.
I took the lead this time, flinging the covers back to slide down his body, to take his hard cock in my hand and run my tongue down the straining length. He wove his fingers into my sex-mussed hair and hissed his approval as I took all of him into my mouth, alternately sucking him and toying with his sensitive tip.
“So fucking good,” he said harshly, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth as I worked my tongue along the underside of his shaft.
He was big—thick and long, uncommonly so—and I’d loved every second of having him inside of me before. Couldn’t wait to feel it again. I hummed around his cock as I rolled the dusky sack of his balls in my fingers, relishing every ragged groan that I pulled from his big, beautiful, tattooed body.
“Enough.” He grasped me under my arms and pulled me up, wrapping his own arms around me as he kissed me soundly. Without breaking the kiss, he plucked another condom from the strip he’d left on the nightstand, pausing just long enough to roll it down his length before he urged me onto my back, his strong biceps flexing as he held himself above me and dragged his tongue along my bottom lip.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against my mouth as the tip of his cock slid through my slick folds, resting just at my entrance.
I didn’t have any words, just a soft sigh as I wound my legs around his hips and pulled him close, as close as I could while he sank into my body, inch by delicious inch.
“Perfect,” he said, brushing kisses along my collarbone, my neck, my cheek. He thrust gently, in and out, and I sucked in a quick breath at the sensations he created inside me. “You feel perfect.”
He slid a hand between us to frame my pulsing clit between two fingers, working me gently and slowly with every thrust, as his lips slid down to my breasts and he sucked fiercely on a hard nipple. I could only thread my fingers into that thick, dark hair and gasp my pleasure as I thrust back against him, gently at first, then harder and wilder as the friction created by our bodies exploded into flame.
This time, my orgasm rolled through me like the gentle cresting of an ocean wave, a toe-curling peak that that slowly receded as I drifted to shore. Ian was right behind me, his body going rigid with release as he gathered me close, groaning into my neck before his body relaxed by degrees. Until we lay in a tangled heap of sweaty, sleepy limbs.
With a soft kiss to my temple, he rolled away for just a second to dispose of the condom, and I was already half asleep by the time he slid back into bed. I was barely aware as he pulled me into his arms, into the center of the bed—not my usual left side, I thought dreamily. Both of us naked, his front pressed to my back, he flung a heavy leg over me and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. I wiggled back against him, smiling at the feel of all that bare, tattooed skin sliding against mine.
With one last yawn, I slept, feeling safe and secure in his arms.
* * *
I could get used to Ian Pallas in my bed, I decided the next morning when I woke up, cuddled close to that warm, tattoo-covered body. He slept quietly on his back—no snoring, I thought with idle relief, and I scooted in closer to get a good look at him. A dark fringe of lashes cast a shadow on his cheekbones, and black whiskers shaded his lean cheeks and strong chin. His full lips were parted in sleep, and I was tempted to lean over and just drop one quick kiss—
“Checking me out?” he suddenly asked. He cracked one eye and nailed me with that dark, seductive stare, a smile playing at his lips. “I’ll hold as still as you want.”
I giggled, swatting playfully at his inked ribs. “Well now you’ve ruined it.”
Ian rolled on top of me, burying his face in my neck before dropping kisses down my collarbone, toward my—
“Hey,” I said, giving his ass a quick swat. His nice, firm ass, I noted. “It’s morning. We gotta get up.”
“No,” he muttered against my skin. He pulled the covers up and yanked me in tighter. “Let’s live in here now.”
My head dropped back against the pillow and I laughed, even as I savored his warm weight, the gentle slide of his lips against my skin. “Last night was really nice,” I said.