Getting Familiar with Your Demon: That Old Black Magic, Book 4 (21 page)

“W-what do you mean?”

Sam wedged her against the archway leading into the kitchen. His hands slid with purposeful laziness down her collarbone until his thumbs rested in the vee of her cleavage. “I’m not a nice guy, Bella. Yeah, I saved a damn cat. And I even resisted the urge to strangle Nikki, three, possibly four times in the past forty-eight hours. That doesn’t make me any less bad of a person. Hell, I like being bad.” His fingers spanned outward and brushed over the swells of her breasts, making her nipples bead. “And I plan on enjoying being
very
bad. With you.”

“Sam—”

He leaned forward until his lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers. “The next time you open your mouth, I’m gonna put it to better use than talking.” With no further preamble, he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a tug before thrusting his tongue inside her mouth.

His kiss was like a firestorm, hot and all-consuming. Catching her breath an improbability, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. He grabbed the rear zipper on her tunic dress and tugged it down. Breaking their kiss, he spun her around to face the wall. The motion made her dizzy with excitement.

He
made her dizzy with excitement.

With agonizing slowness, Sam slipped the dress from her shoulders and shimmied it along her torso and hips, eventually leaving the garment to pool at her feet. His palms cupped the curve of her ass before sliding inside her silk panties and kneading her flesh. She moaned.

A soft scuff sounded as Sam knelt behind her and coasted his hands down her legs, dragging her bikini with them. “You’ve got a perfect ass, Bella.” His teeth grazed her right butt cheek. “Biteable.” The rasp of his tongue soothed the sting he’d left behind. “Lickable.” He followed the crease of her ass with his finger and caressed her hidden pucker. “Fuckable.”

Her breath hitched, causing him to give a smoky chuckle that made her skin flush even more. “I think you’re intrigued by the possibility of me fucking your ass.”

“A-are you going to?” The notion scandalized as much as it aroused.

Sam made a
tsk
ing noise. “What did I tell you about opening your mouth?” He turned her around to face him again before stripping off his T-shirt and unbuckling his jeans. She didn’t know which worried her more—the wicked glint in his eyes, or the revolver holstered at his hip. He noticed her fixation on his gun and unclipped it from his belt. “I can’t even fire the damn thing, but it’s a habit to keep Lucy close.”

“Lucy?”

Sam said nothing more as he strode to the coffee table and placed the holstered weapon on top of one of her design books. The sinuous shift of sleek muscles beneath his velvety, bronzed skin drew her rapt fascination to the large tattoo imprinted on his back. She’d never noticed it before. Then again, she’d also never been treated to the sight of his backside either. And boy, wasn’t that a shame, considering how gorgeous it was.

Somehow she tore her gaze from the deep groove of his spine disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans and studied the tattoo again. She had just enough time to catch a glimpse of the faded section in the middle before Sam made an about-face and walked in her direction. The intense look in his eyes dispersed any thought of asking him what the deal was with his tattoo. He popped the buttons on his fly and shucked down his jeans. Kicking the pants aside, he approached her and stroked his cock. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Wetness gathered between her legs, and her mouth went dry.

Oh goddess, how she wanted to taste him. So much, it was a physical ache in her core. Her legs trembled, and she whimpered.

“On your knees, baby.”

She didn’t even think twice about his firm command. The plush Berber scrunched beneath her calves as she settled in place and reached for him.

“No hands. I only want the heat of your mouth wrapped around me.”

She obediently dropped her arms and slid her lips over the silky gland of Sam’s cock. His abdomen quivered and a barely discernable intake of breath shuddered from him. Pride and pleasure flowed through her in a heady wave. The knowledge she was affecting him was intoxicating. Liberating. Emboldened and bursting with feminine power, she coasted her tongue over the rigid vein running along the underside of his cock and flicked the tiny indent bisecting the cap and shaft with teasing, fluttery licks.

“
Fuck
.” Groaning, Sam planted his fists against the wall and flexed his hips in a desperate attempt to get her to take more of him.

She increased her suction on just the head, causing him to curse a blue streak. She looked up at him through her lashes and caught her breath at the exquisite masculinity of Sam. The muscles in those broad shoulders and sculpted pecs were bunched and strained with tension. A single bead of sweat trickled down his sternum, marking a path toward his navel. Riveting as each sight was, none came remotely close to rivaling the unadulterated beauty of his face while lost in ecstasy. Without thinking, she lifted one hand and stroked it along his hip.

The next thing she knew, Sam pulled out of her mouth and caged her wrists in his hands. He made that aggravating
tsk
ing sound again. “What did I tell you about no touching?”

“I couldn’t help myself.”

He released her and bent to sweep her into his arms. She assumed he was going to carry her into the bedroom, which left her wide open for surprise when he strode into the kitchen instead. He settled her facedown on the dining table. She started to scoot onto her side, but Sam tugged her toward him and situated her so she was draped over the edge.

“Grip the side of the table, and don’t you dare fucking let go or I’ll spank this sweet little ass.”

“But—” She broke off with a yelp when an unexpected smack stung across her left butt cheek. “You rotten bastard. I didn’t let go.”

“Guess I couldn’t help myself.”

“Very funny.”

Sam’s fingers suddenly slicked over her labia, and she jolted before arching against his hand.

“You’re dripping, baby. I think you like being spanked. Or maybe it was sucking my cock that got you all juiced up.” His fingers delved inside her channel and found that hidden spot that made brilliant sparkles shoot behind her eyelids. She gasped and wiggled on the table. Something wet and soft darted over her clit. Sam’s tongue. The devious tormenter was using the same teasing technique she’d employed on him. Helpless murmurs tumbled from her mouth, and he chuckled. “Payback’s a bitch, darlin’.”

“Sam, please…”

Ignoring her pleas, he alternated torturing her clit with leisurely figure eights and fast flickers of his tongue. The cresting orgasm loomed closer and ever bigger. Desperate sobs lodged in her throat. Her body went rigid, poised on the precipice. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything beyond the approaching climax. Without warning, Sam stopped. She trembled, disbelieving that he would be cruel enough to leave her hanging so close to completion. “S-Sam?”

He was silent so long she began to suspect he was no longer in the room. Just as she was about to flip over to see where he could have gone, his entire mouth closed over her. She cried out at the unexpectedness of it. Gripping her hips, he held her imprisoned to his intense ravishment. He suctioned onto her clit and pulsed it repeatedly with his tongue. The orgasm crashed into her with the force of a tsunami, ripping a scream from her throat. Sam’s tongue continued working her, drawing out the quakes and ultimately spiraling her into an unending climax.

Finally his mouth abandoned her, but she quickly learned he was nowhere near finished. He lifted her slightly away from the table, and his cock nudged at her slit. The soaked state of her pussy made his entry a smooth, easy glide. All of the sensory nerve endings he’d whipped into a frenzy fired into hyperdrive. It was as if she didn’t possess the ability to
not
come.

Gasping, she writhed upon the table as wave after lush wave pummeled her body. Her inner channel continuously contracted around Sam’s cock, squeezing and clenching, making her acutely aware of every hard, thick centimeter of him.

His fingers tunneled through her hair, pushing it away from her nape. A second later his growl brushed her skin, followed by the scrape of his teeth. The inherent possessiveness of the gesture hurtled her completely over the cliff, and she cried out, her body jerking with uncontrollable spasms. Sam held her tight to him, his palms a cushion between her breasts and the wood grain as he pounded into her, shaking the entire table. A moment later, his thrusts faltered and he gave one last pump of his hips before a broken groan tore from him and his body shuddered on top of her.

For several minutes they lay on the table, their harsh breaths the only reprieve from silence. Just as she was about to drift off, Sam’s weight lifted from her. She cracked one eye open and was treated to the mouthwatering sight of his muscled glutes as he bent to pitch the used condom into the wastebasket under the sink.

He turned and caught her eye. “Don’t plan on getting much sleep tonight.” With that preemptive warning, he scooped her into his arms and strode toward the bedroom.

Chapter Nineteen

Somewhere around three in the morning, Sam let Marabella get some rest. Unable to take his eyes off her, he watched her face while she snoozed. Even in the darkest hours of night, her inner sunshine proved a radiant beacon.

Shit. If anyone fit the image of an angel, it was her. The damn writing had been on the wall all this time, and he’d been too blind to see it. Well, not entirely. His body sure as hell had read the signs and responded to her angel light like it was an intoxicating drug. Hence their recent eight-hour sexual Olympics.

The really scary part? He wasn’t even close to being sated. In fact, he was damn tempted to wake Marabella up and go at it for another eight.

So much for exorcising her from his mind.

Rather than give in to his baser urges—and risk landing himself in traction for pulling an overused groin muscle—he climbed from the bed and ventured into the living room. After yanking his jeans on, he sprawled onto the couch and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours as he processed the multitude of disturbed thoughts tumbling around in his brain.

He didn’t know who he was anymore. With each passing second, he imagined one more layer of his old self flaking from his soul and withering away into nothingness. He scrubbed a hand over his face.
I need to get a damn grip.
Grabbing the remote, he clicked on the TV and muted it. He whiled away a few more hours focusing blankly on the silent images flashing across the screen. Finally the first pink rays of dawn streamed through the windows. He abandoned the couch and returned to the bedroom.

Marabella stretched on the tangled mess of the sheets and gifted him a sleepy smile. That was all the invitation he needed to strip out of his jeans. Tossing aside his prior resolutions like yesterday’s garbage, he climbed onto the bed so he could relearn her body all over again.

Starting at her bellybutton, he lapped a slow path toward her breasts. For several minutes he contented himself laving her nipples into stiff peaks and listening to her choppy breaths. Reversing his course, he kissed the valley of her abdomen, even stopping momentarily to dip his tongue into her navel before settling between her legs and spreading her pink folds with his thumbs. The previous sexual marathon made him well acquainted with her pussy, but that didn’t hinder his desire to become a true expert on her sensitive anatomy.

Aware that she was likely tender from his prior devotion, he kept his oral caresses limited to soft, gentle licks and barely there flickers of the tip of his tongue across her clit. Her hips arched and an incoherent cry spilled from her as a steady pulse thrummed through the slippery nub beating beneath his tongue.

The delicious essence of her lingering in his mouth, he rolled to the side and fumbled to reach the box of condoms resting on the nightstand. Impatience making his fingers clumsy, he wrestled with one of the foil packets and freed the ring of latex. He smoothed the condom over his aching erection. Positioning the head of his cock at Marabella’s entrance, he braced a fist on the mattress and thrust inside her. Wet, silky heat enveloped his cock. There was no damn way he’d last long. Four strokes later, he proved the validity of that thought as he came with a strangled shout. His limbs shaky, he slumped to the side.

He must have dozed briefly because the gentle glide of Marabella’s hand on his spine roused him with a groggy start. A grunt fell from him when he realized he hadn’t even pulled out of her. Leaving the bed yet again, he went to dispose of the condom.

He grimaced at the semi-erect state of his cock. “Down, boy. You’re gonna sprain something if you keep this up.”

Shit. He was talking to his fucking cock. He was even more broken than he’d originally thought.

He walked back into the bedroom and noticed Marabella was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, he hiked his jeans on and traipsed from the room. He followed the sound of her cheery singing and ultimately found her in the kitchen pouring water into a coffeemaker. He eyed her hips as they swayed beneath her pink satin robe, keeping time with her a capella tune.

His dick hardened with renewed interest, but he ignored it. “You’re a morning person. I shoulda known.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” The cordless phone resting on the counter rang, snagging her attention. She plunked the jug of water down and went to answer the call. “Hello? Oh, hi, Cass.” She absently wound a strand of hair around her pinky. “Yeah, we’re decent. Pop in whenever you want. I was just about to get breakfast going.”

A breeze of air behind him announced the expedient arrival of his cousins. “I’m starved,” Nikki announced without preamble. “What are we having?”

Marabella snatched two more mugs from the cupboard. “Do you like French toast?”

Sam snorted. “It’s food, so yes.”

Nikki’s eyes narrowed. “You better be nice to me. I haven’t decided if I’ve forgiven you for throwing my shoe at me yesterday.”