It takes a bit of convincing, but I’m able to coerce Sam into wearing my shirt as we sneak in the back of the hotel. She’s not a fan of the few glances I get being half-dressed, but my constant hold on her body seems to help while we head to the spare room.
Inside, I run us a shower and make quick work of undressing us both. She’s sore. I can tell by the way she walks, the way her face scrunches together as I touch some of the more tender areas.
My beast is proud, her marks nothing more than evidence of a job well done. Though the softness in me, the best friend, is slightly more concerned.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I guide her into the shower, ignoring her huffs of annoyance.
“Yes, Adrian. I’m… perfect. Currently drowning in bliss. So don’t ruin it with your hovering.”
This makes me laugh. I hadn’t planned to be so rough. I wanted to start slow, only wanted her to experience the chase. But I’m sort of glad she got to see a bit of both. See who I am.
This woman has my entire heart, has for longer than I’ll admit, but for her to enjoy it the way she is… I don’t think anything could make me feel more elated.
She hisses when the warm water meets her back, but then her eyes roll, and my shoulders relax. “God, this feels good. Get in here.”
I smile and climb inside with her. “I need to wash you.”
Her brows furrow. “I can wash myself, Adrian. I’m sore, but I’m not an igit.”
I growl, shaking my head. “You’re not an igit, but I have to do it.”
“Why?”
There’s a real curiosity in her question, and I decide now is as good a time as any to explain to her more in-depth what she’s getting into. “Are you familiar with BDSM?”
Her beautiful brown eyes widen, and she nods.
I grab the loofah hanging from the shower caddy and jerk my head toward the body wash behind her. When she turns to grab it, my gaze follows her golden curves, noting every little fleck of dirt to the tiny pink crescents from my nails and teeth. It spikes my blood pressure, the need to be inside her growing all over again.
She swivels back and hands it to me. “So what we did in the woods… is it like your version of a red room?”
I bark out laughter as I pour soap onto the sponge. “Yes. Exactly that. I’m what people refer to as a primal Dom, and what we did was primal play.”
“So we’ll always end up this messy.” She huffs, smiling as I create big suds. “Is that why you feel the need to clean me?”
“First, no. Taking care of you after we’re a mess is something I want to do.” I rub a soapy hand across her check, my heart warming when she leans into my touch. “But the technical term is called aftercare. Second, it doesn’t always need to take place in the woods.”
She pouts, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more adorable. “But that was fun and exciting.”
Now, my tender heart swells in my chest. “So is hunting you through the hotel and fucking you in the alley.”
Sam lets out a whimper, her lashes fluttering as though she’s picturing it. I begin to wash her body, careful not to press too hard when I go over the more bruised spots. “It’s different for everyone, but for me, primal play is a state of mind. My beast, or need to engage in primal activities, is triggered by different things. In our case, it’s always been your smell.”
Her head jolts back as she listens, but then almost immediately a lightbulb goes off in her head. “Stinky Sam.”
I smirk and nod. “Stinky Sam wasn’t because you stunk. It was because you smelled so fucking good, I wanted to bite you. I didn’t understand why, and it freaked me out a bit. Made me worry you would think I was out of my mind.”
“And is that the same reason we stopped wrestling and playing around?”
On a bent knee, I wash one of her feet before gazing back up at her. “Yes. We would get rough, and I would suddenly want to get rougher. I wanted to pin you down and make you submit. We were teens when I finally figured out I was actually aroused by it.”
She tilts my chin up with her forefinger, prompting me to stand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I love you too much to lose you.” The admission is both a heavy weight from my shoulders and sets me on the edge. “I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”
Sam purses her lips, her annoyance clear. “You’re telling me, I’ve been missing out on all that because you were scared to tell your best friend you liked a little frolicking in the woods?”
I roll my eyes, twisting her by the shoulder so I can wash her back. “It wasn’t worth the risk at the time. Primal is still so new to many people, and I just… I don’t know. Bambi, I wanted to play it safe. Better to have you in my life as a friend than nothing at all.”
“I hate you think so little of me. Meanwhile, I’ve been out here, bored out of my mind, dating boring ass suits when I could have been getting railed in the forest by the man I’ve loved since I knew what love was.”
A deep ache radiates across my sternum. It’s a combination of elation and regret; anger that I didn’t trust her sooner with this part of me. Threading a hand through my hair, I toss the loofah on the hook. “You’re right, and I’ll spend every day you let me, making it up to you.”
Sam twirls back around. “I owe the same to you. Ever since the day you pushed me in the mud, I always thought that was you rejecting me. Putting me in the friend zone permanently. But now I see, we missed an opportunity, but not our chance. We have that now.”
My lips stretch into a wide, involuntary smile. “For a person who’s so soft and mushy, it’s hard to believe you want someone who’s hard and rough around all the edges.”
She shrugs, wrapping her arms around my neck and perching on her tiptoes to place a quick kiss on my lips. “What can I say? It also doesn’t hurt that you want to take care of me after. It feels pretty damn good.”
“Have to keep my prey in good shape. Wouldn’t be much fun to chase if not.”
Sam laughs, the sweet sound winding around every tight muscle left and melting them into butter. “Well, now that I know everything, I promise to make it harder on you next time.”
“So you want it to be challenging to catch me?” Something I can’t make out shimmers in her eyes as she rakes a hand down my stomach. My abs tense and flex as she moves over each one. I’m relishing the feeling of finally being touched by her in the way I’ve craved for so long.
“Yes. It’s the hunt and the fight I crave. The need to subdue my prey in order to rightfully earn my prize.”
“I see.” She nods, a mischievous smirk curling one side of her lips. “Well, in that case, catch me if you can, number twenty-four.”
Before I realize what’s happening, the glass door swings open, and Sam sprints from the shower. It only takes a second to reach her, but when I wrap my arms around her wet waist, she manages to slip from beneath my grasp.
The beast in my chest roars to life as I grab her again. Our slick bodies fall over the bed, and we begin the best wrestling match we’ve ever had.
Our limbs tangle as I try to get her hands above her head. She wriggles and flails, her breath coming out in pants as she gives it everything she has to free herself. I drop my head and open my mouth wide, my teeth clamping down on her shoulder.
She yelps, bucking her hips up and pushing her pelvis straight into my erection. I growl, need surging through me as she continues to fight. She really doesn’t make it easy, both of us too wet and slick with residual soap to get any type of grip. Every time I manage to secure a hand, she wrangles it free.
It takes far too long, but I finally get a good grip on both of her wrists and shove them above her head, squeezing them tight. I move my knee on top of her clenched thighs and bear down, forcing her legs to part.
She makes me work to lift my knee, but when I press my thigh against her warm entrance, her head falls back, and she grinds against it, creating a friction that makes her eyes roll back.
“Need more already, huh?”
She smiles. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see if you’d be able to catch me while slippery.”
This makes me laugh. “Learned about it two seconds ago and already testing out theories?”
Sam’s eyes flash back to me, and I lose myself inside them for a moment. Flecks of black and gold give them a dimension that has always captivated me. Plus, the color reminds me of the bright mud I pushed her in all those years ago. Just another piece of evidence that proves she was made for me.
“We’ve already wasted so much time, why not jump in?”
I shake my head and huff. It blows her hair back, revealing a speck of green. I pull it from her strands and smile when I realize what it is.
Holding it up in front of her, she mirrors my expression with a broad smirk as she takes it from me. “A four leaf. How appropriate.”
I lean down and kiss her nose. It will be the last soft gesture she gets until she’s shaking from her next orgasm. “I think so. Sets the precedent for what’s to come.”
She arches a brow. “That we’ve been anointed to be blessed with faith, love, hope, and luck?”
The meaning behind the four leaves, an anthem our parents would speak over us when opening the hotel. “Having the luck of the Irish sounds good to me, Bambi.”
“Having you inside me sounds better.” Her lids flutter as she tosses the clover on the nightstand and opens her legs wider for me.
I oblige, moving to seat myself between her legs and hold her steady. I love the smirk on her face, the one that says she thinks she can handle me. It will be fun to watch her come undone.
And I do. Four lucky times.
