Sam's Creed

The urge to turn her mouth to his was almost irresistible. “You asked.”

“So I did. Hold on, now.”

She already clung to him as if the bottom was about to fall out of the world. His teeth nipped her ear. His fingertips grazed her hungry flesh. She thought the rough callus might hurt, but right now it merely provided an intriguing drag. A tingling ache followed in the wake of the caress. Instinct drove her hips up the fraction it took to renew the contact. It wasn’t the same, though. It wasn’t enough to get the goodness back.

Sam’s chuckle could have been mocking. She recognized his experience the same way he had to recognize her inexperience. But it wasn’t mocking. Neither was his tone as he circled the hard nub at the top. “So nice and wet for me. I like that.”

When Isabella opened her eyes and checked his expression, she found merely an openness that comforted. Sam was enjoying touching her. Enjoying the effect of his touch on her. It gave her the courage to ask, “The wetness is normal?”

“When you’re having a good time, yes.”

He made another pass with his finger. The tingles flared to fire. She caught his hand, stilling the caress. There was something she had to know. “It does not repulse you?”

The arm supporting her back shifted, sliding up her back until his big hand cupped her shoulder. Her torso naturally shifted into the hollow created by the curve of his arm. She might be innocent, but she recognized desire when it stared at her, and Sam desired her.

“If you weren’t such an innocent, I’d show you just how much I’m not repulsed.”

She didn’t know if she could survive it. Sam clearly came from a different world than she. She’d always been pampered and sheltered from the coarser side of life, tucked away from reality, whereas Sam clearly kept his boots firmly planted in daily life. He was as earthy as he was dangerous, and, madre de Dios, he appealed to her.

Sam changed the angle, forcing her to lean back. Off balance, she felt her thighs splay farther, his hand cupping her more fully.

It was as if another person possessed her. A wanton woman who burned for the stroke of his fingers, who lived to see the satisfaction in his face when she pleased him. A woman who yearned to burn at his command.

She just didn’t know how to burn, but looking up into Sam’s face with his sensual mouth set above that square jaw and strong neck, she bet he knew how to set the fire. She licked her lips. If she was brave enough to hand him the sulphur.

His hand cupped her cheek. He held her now cradled against him, anchored at her most vulnerable points—her face and her groin. Again, she should feel threatened, and yet again she just felt…cherished. His thumb tilted her chin up.

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Are you giving yourself to me because you think it’ll guarantee you protection?”

She had to think about it.

“Would this matter if it were true? You would still have a willing woman in your bed.”

His thumb stroked her lips, pausing in the dent in the middle. “You hinting I’ve been hitting a dry spell?”

She couldn’t even find the coordination to swallow. She wrinkled her nose. “Probably not.”

“So what would be the draw?”

“I am a virgin.” Everyone knew men lusted after virgins.

“That means you lack experience.”

Shaking her head, she twisted her hand until she could grab his wrist. “Even I know that is not a negative to a man.”

“It is if you’ve reached a point where you’re not wanting to do all the work.”

“You are telling me you are lazy?”

“Laziness is a highly underappreciated quality.”

The man had not stopped moving since she had met him. He must be teasing her. She could tease, too. “But just think about it—you could train me to what you liked.”

He canted his head to the side, his gaze still on the point where his thumb touched her lip. “That would take a long time.”

“I could be a woman who learns fast.”

He pulled her lip down, seemingly fascinated with her mouth. “You have the look of a woman who’d be a lot of work.”

“I might be worth your while.”

“Keeping you around could get me killed.”

She caught his finger between her teeth. “Letting me go without teaching me will definitely get you killed.”

“By who?”

Nipping his thumb, she answered, “By me.”

Some of the seriousness slipped from his expression. “Is that a fact?”

She nodded, looking as mean as she could. “A rocksolid one.”

The smile she suspected was lurking just out of sight teased the corners of his eyes. “You think a little bit of a thing like you could make me shake in my shoes?”

She scooted down into his embrace, clutching like a talisman the inner conviction that said she fascinated him the way he fascinated her. “I think if you taught me right, I could make you quake.”

“Hell.”

He was imagining. So was she, but she did not think her images were as clear as the ones putting the heat in his eyes.

“So that is a yes?”

“Not yet.”

She liked the fact that he did not prevaricate. “But you will think about it?”

“I doubt I’ll be thinking of anything else.”

Neither would she. Her whole body was a restless ache for the satisfaction he withheld. She ran her fingernail down the placket of his shirt. “Maybe you would like me to convince you to a yes?”

His nostrils flared. Oh yes, he would like that.

“What I’d like is for you to think over the invitation while I consider it.”