Page 98 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

He continues to expertly pump into me, slipping in a second finger, and an uncontrollable shudder courses through me. Silently, he continues working me until I suddenly shatter and come in his arms.

He holds me until I open my eyes–

“We’re here, Mr. Ryder,” the driver quietly states as he pulls the limo to a stop.

“Thank you,” Sam replies just as quietly, and I marvel at his composure as he opens the door and steps from the car. He deftly pulls an envelope from his jacket and hands it to the driver before he helps me from the vehicle.

When I sneak a peek at his face, though, his features appear tight, as if he’s barely keeping his control. As soon as we’re inside, he has me over the arm of the couch, pulling my dress up around my waist as he moves between my legs. The entire last half hour felt like foreplay, and his urgency matches mine.

I impatiently shift my weight from one foot to the other for him to claim me.

“Sam! Sam, please… hurry,” I mumble as my hair falls forward around my face like a curtain.

Hearing the sound of his zipper is a relief, and my stance goes wider as I arch my back. By now, I’m aching for him to enter me. I need him inside me. I’m strung so tight with wanting that I can hardly bear the wait.

Suddenly, I feel Sam fill me from behind with his hard shaft. Plunging in deep, his hands anchoring me in place. My entire body quivers in response, and I let out a gasp at the depth of his penetration.

I feel him pull out and then forcefully thrust in again. “Em, you look so fucking sexy like this. Watching my cock enter you. It’s such a turn-on. The feel of me as you take me–Damn!”

Not able to answer him or even nod, I push back against him, showing him how much I want this too—meeting his hard thrusts just as urgently. I’m only aware of Sam—of him entering me so fiercely as our breathing grows harsher. It doesn’t take long before my entire body clenches around him. As my orgasm overtakes me, I shout out his name–loudly.

He joins me a split second later with an equally loud, guttural groan. He slumps over my back for a moment, recovering. Then he stands, pulling me up with him. My legs feel weak, and I lean back against his chest, letting him take most of my weight as our breathing slows.

“I hadn’t planned that–it just happened,” he admits roughly, “See what you do to me? I can’t even think straight when you’re around. You’re so fucking sexy.”

“You affect me the same way, Sam,” I admit softly, slowly turning to face him.

“Good to know,” he says gruffly, leaning down to gently brush his lips with mine. Wrapping an arm around me, he leads me to the stairs. “Upstairs. The night’s not over yet. We’ve only just started.”

I shiver at the husky promise in his voice as he leads me to our bed.

It’s a very long night. The next morning, my eyes slowly open to see bright sunlight flooding the room. I look over and see Sam sleeping soundly beside me.

Slipping quietly from our bed, I stand and stretch lazily. With a smile, I lean over and slowly pick up the clothes scattered around the room. As I grab Sam’s jacket, a small black velvet box slips from the inside pocket.

My fingers tremble as I pick up the fallen box, anticipation swirling in my chest. I open it slowly, my breath hitching when I see what’s inside.

It’s a gold wedding band—beautifully crafted but unmistakably designed to look like the bubblegum ring he gave me in Vegas.

For a moment, I’m speechless. I stare at the ring, my emotions tangled in confusion. It’s beautiful, but why did he have it crafted to replicate the cheap plastic ring?

My chest tightens painfully. Is this Sam's way of embracing our past, or is he missing the point that I want to move forward? Start fresh. With possibly a real wedding and meaningful vows–and forget our drunken, accidental marriage. Did he mean this to be funny and make me laugh, or did he somehow think this would be romantic?

Either way, it misses the mark. Seeing this ring–It’s not what I expected. What was his intention? And why didn’t he give it to me last night—before we—I glance at Sam to ensure he’s stillsleeping. Confusion and hurt swirl in my chest as I carefully return the box to his jacket.

After gathering some clothes, I tiptoe from the room. My mind is clouded with a mix of emotions. I need time to think. Leaving a hurried note, I exit the beach house and jump in my car. Maybe a drive will clear my head. I don’t get far when my phone buzzes.

It’s the crew manager. I nod as he explains he needs to meet with the crew so they can check out a few pieces of equipment. I state briskly, “Fine. I’ll meet you and your team at the security gate.”

With a grimace, I turn the car toward the studio.

Thirty-Two

Sam

When I open my eyes, my first coherent thought is that I’m alone in bed. Emily’s side is empty. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s almost noon. With a low groan, I sit on the side of the bed.

I wanted last night to be romantic. I wasn’t lying when I told Emily that sex wasn’t part of my plan. Then I grin because sex is always part of my plan–at least when I’m around Emily. She’s too damn hard to resist.

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