“Maybe not, but apparently any amount of human is too much for him.” I bite the corner of my lip, remembering what Luther confessed to me in the darkness of our hotel room. “After the club, he told me some things about his past. I thought we were making progress.” I sigh again and flex my fingers. “But since we got back, it’s like he can’t stand to look at me. Even worse than before.”
“Probably because he can’t stop thinking about you in that outfit.” Sam nudges me. When I look at him, his eyes are travelling across my chest.
“You remember that?” I fold my arms in front of my stomach, suddenly self-conscious.
Sam’s eyebrows twitch. “Nova, I willalwaysremember that outfit.” He pauses then asks, “Did you bring it back with you?”
“Maybe.” I meet his gaze. I know we should go back inside but, instead of getting up, I edge closer and swing my leg over him so I’m in his lap, my chest pressed up against his.
For a moment, Sam doesn’t move. The juxtaposition between the way he looks—ridiculously handsome, confident, like he could devour me if he wanted to—and the nervous excitement in his touch when he gets close—like he can’t believe he’s allowed to touch me—is almost too much to handle.
His hands skim my sides and land on my waist.
“What do you want to do to me?” I ask, lowering my mouth to his ear.
Sam breathes out heavily. “So many things,” he replies, nuzzling my neck in the exact spot Kole bit me.
Sitting back, I push my fingers through his hair. “You’re in control now, Sam.” I let my arms drop to my sides. “I’m yours.”
As his cock twitches beneath me, Sam’s eyes widen.
I slide my hands up beneath his shirt, the fire behind my back growing as I touch him. “They took too much from you,” I tell him, meeting his eyes. “I know what that’s like. I know what it’s like to feel only pain, never pleasure.”
His heartbeat quickens beneath my palms.
“It’s your turn to take. Your turn to feel whatever you want to feel.”
Sam’s eyes dart past me toward the trees. “In the forest,” he says. “I want to fuck you under the stars.”
I stand up and give him my hand, pulling him to his feet.
I’ve put out the flames, and I’m about to head for the steps when he tells me to wait.
I turn to look at him. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks me up and down. “Take your clothes off.”
A shiver runs up my spine. His tone has changed. It’s deeper, more commanding.
He straightens his shoulders and repeats, “Take your clothes off.”
Despite the fact it’s freezing, I hook my fingers under the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head. My sneakers follow, then my socks, my pants, my tank top. When I’m in nothing but my bra and panties, I cross my arms. My flesh dimples with the cold.
“Don’t hide from me,” Sam says, taking a step closer. Then he gestures to my underwear. “These too. Take them off.”
I swallow hard and do as I’m told.
My bra goes first. As soon as my breasts are exposed, the cold air stiffens my nipples into almost-painful peaks. Next, I remove my panties.
“Hands behind your back.” Sam stares down at me. He’s almost six feet tall, way taller than me. My core flutters as he licks his lips.
When I clasp my hands together and tuck them behind my back, my naked breasts jut out toward him. I’m utterly vulnerable. Every inch of me is on display. Sam reaches for me, puts his hands on my hips, and turns me around slowly. He hums gently into my ear as he leans in and runs his fingers over my body. He smooths his palms over my neck, shoulders, arms, and stomach. He examines every inch of me. He sinks to his knees and studies the swell of my thighs, kisses the backs of my knees, caresses the curve of my ass.
The moonlight hides some of my flaws, but not all of them.
When he reaches the tattoo on my thigh, he presses his thumb to it and looks up at me. Our eyes meet. Something passes between us. A shared whisper of a life. A shared understanding of what it is to be owned by another person.
Sam kisses Johnny’s name. He swirls his tongue over my skin like he might be able to lick the ink clean from me. He runs his hands up the insides of my legs then, just when I think he’s going to put his tongue to my core, he stands.
Taking my hand, he leads me down the steps into the trees. When we reach a spot where the moonlight breaks through the canopy above, he positions me beneath it. I wait for him to come to me, but he doesn’t. He steps back.