Page 20 of Conquer

That alarm was misplaced.

Adrian, who so seldom showed emotion on his face, showed it now, his expression filled with desire, need, a feeling I could understand because the same thrummed through my own blood.

I reached for him again, this time closing my fingers around his shaft.

Adrian lay his hand atop mine and squeezed his hand closed. I followed suit, closing my fingers tighter, and then tighter still, tighter than I would have dared without Adrian’s encouragement.

Then he moved, taking my fist with his, our hands moving in tandem up his shaft, back down, up again. With each stroke, more and more precum leaked from his tip, and soon his shaft was coated, as was my palm, the fluid easing the path.

Adrian dropped his hand, but I didn’t pause, too taken by the feel of him in my hand, gauging his reaction to my every move. The expression on his face made me eager to continue, as did the way his cock thickened in my hand.

He pulsed against my palm, and I looked up from where my hand caged him to his eyes. They were heavy-lidded, dark, almost feral. And all because I was touching him.

I squeezed him a little bit tighter, which drew a moan and another pulse of his shaft in my hand. He again closed his fist over mine and began moving our hands faster, then faster still, until, on a harsh exhale, he pushed my hand away and came.

Adrian

As I camedown from that explosive climax, I was stunned, not entirely sure what I should do next.

But as I did with everything in my life, I fell back on instinct.

And that instinct had me reaching for her, pulling her soft body against mine to kiss her.

I did, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull the pretty pink T-shirt from her body. Her full, bra-covered breasts were tempting, but the urgency I felt now wouldn’t wait for the detailed exploration they demanded. I placed a kiss on each of the full mounds and then moved down to work her jeans over her hips, taking her pants with them down her legs.

I made equally quick work of my own clothes and then gripped Sam’s hand tight.

“Bedroom,” I said, ignoring the fact that I already knew where it was.

It was easy to ignore everything in the face of my overwhelming desire for her. Though it had been only minutes since I had spilled myself in her hand, I was hard again, my cock solid again as if I hadn’t just come.

When we reached the room, Sam led me to her bed and then froze, staring up at me.

“Adrian, I…”

I kissed her quickly and then gripped her face in my hands.

“We don’t have to do anything Sam,” I said.

And I meant it. Just being with her like this was more than I’d ever hoped for, and if it was all she wanted to offer, it would be enough.

“I know,” she said. “It’s not that. It’s just…I know this is fast, way too fast, but I’m going to trust myself… go with the feeling,” she said.

“Me too,” I replied.

She kissed me this time, and I sank into that kiss, began touching her, letting my hands move where they would, down her warm, soft skin, pausing to touch a place that made her breath deepen, lingering at a specifically fascinating place.

I could have spent forever touching her, learning the feel of her body, probably would have were it not for Sam’s fevered whisper.

“Adrian, I want you,” she said.

I wanted her more, and again I gave into that instinct, let it lead me as I pushed her back on the bed and then lay atop her, her soft thighs cradling my waist, her breasts against my chest, the warmth of her sex driving me to the brink.

I moved experimentally, brushed my hardness against her core. I thought I would explode just from that contact. But I didn’t, and I continued to rock against her until I was mindless—until I thought she was too, her breath against my skin, her warm hands on my back giving me a clue that she was nearly as overcome with this as I was.

I pushed her thighs wider, spreading her, and in the next breath I thrust, burying myself as deeply as I could.

The sensation was almost indescribable, unlike anything I had ever experienced—Sam’s warm wetness holding me, her body under mine, her hands touching me. I’d dreamed of this countless times, every time I’d slept since the day I had seen her first, but nothing in those dreams, nothing in my imagination could begin to compare the reality of her.

It was perfection.

She was perfection.

I stayed still but looked down at her, worried that I might see discomfort.

There was some of that, a slight cloud in her expression that told me the unfamiliar sensation wasn’t entirely pleasant, but even more than that I saw desire, a sight that only increased when she stretched up to kiss me.

Then she pulled back, looked into my eyes, and smiled.

In the next breath, I started to move.

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