Page 36 of Fear No Hell

Calliope

My thoughts grind to a halt at the gentle question.

In all of my years with Arthur, he never kissed me.

That, more than anything, forces down the panic that rose when I landed on the bed.

This is Sam. My memories don’t belong here with us; Arthur doesn’t get to steal any more of my happiness than he already has.

“Please,” I breathe. “I promise I won’t cry this time. ”

“It’s okay if you do.” His lips spread into an achingly soft smile as he moves up the bed to lie beside me, his head resting on the pillow next to where I’m pressed against the headboard. “Come here, sweetness.”

I shift, rolling to the side so I can splay my body over top of him, my face hovering above his. The position is familiar to me, reminiscent of past encounters that I forgot long ago; the man under me is different from any of them.

Because he’s mine, the dark voice murmurs. This time, it sounds exactly like me, not some close facsimile.

Sam’s hand wraps around the back of my head, bringing me closer until our lips are separated by the thinnest breath of air.

I hesitate then flick out my tongue, licking a line across his top lip. A gasp escapes him, the sound breezing into my mouth on a whisper that tastes of spearmint. Suddenly, my fears—the ones that say I’m not ready, that are terrified I’m going to weep all over him again—go quiet.

I need to taste him. Not his words. Him. Now.

When I drop my mouth to his, our lips pressed together for only the second time, it feels like I’m coming home. The kiss is chaste, slow and absorbing, all gentle licks and nibbles punctuating each press of our lips until Sam uses the hand cupping the back of my head to tug me in deeper.

In one breath, it turns intense. All-consuming.

My hands wrap around Sam’s upper arms while his other hand lifts to my chin, tilting my head the way he wants me, so he can dive deeper.

We’re breathing for each other, exchanging needy little murmurs.

It’s dirty and sexy, loosening me with every lick of his tongue along mine.

I suck his lower lip into my mouth, nipping hard. He groans, a muttered, “fuck” slipping out of him seconds before his blood hits my tongue. The metallic taste floods my mouth, tangy and delicious, and I lose my mind.

I have no control anymore, sopping wet as I tongue the bite mark in a desperate bid for more. More of his blood. His taste. More of him. I want everything he’ll give me. My moans turn feral as I lap at his lips, less a kiss, more a filthy feast.

The panic I felt earlier is gone. All I want is Sam between my legs in whatever way he’s willing to be there, helping me erase the horrors of the last four decades and discover sex as something I enjoy again.

“Please.” I pull back enough to see the blood welling on his bottom lip, my heart pounding as I reach up, swiping the crimson droplet away and sucking it from where it sits on my finger. He’s so damn delicious it’s painful.

“Please what?” Although his words are similar to those others have said to me in bed, they’re teasing, lacking the hardness that the more sexually dominant have. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you between my legs.”

“Fuck yes.” He kisses me again, this time only a simple brush of lips before he rolls me to my back.

This time, instead of clamping together, my legs fall apart, exposing every secret I have to him.

“Can I take this off?” His hand slides under the t-shirt I stole from him.

In aroused bliss, I nod. No hesitation. “Yes. And take your sweats off. I want to see all of you.”

He smiles, happiness radiating from every pore as he strips my clothes from me one-handed, the other curved around my waist, keeping me held against the length of his body. As soon as the fabric clears my head, the hand holding the shirt falls to his side, his mouth parting on a gasp.

Terrified, I glance down, afraid that there might be something wrong with me. Nothing is any different, though. My body is more or less the same as it has always been. Perks of immortality, I guess.

“God.” Sam scrapes the hand holding the shirt down his face.

He's so out of it that I’m not sure he even notices it’s fabric rather than skin dragging across his nose.

“You’re fucking stunning, Lila. I never could have dreamed you would be like this.

” He reaches towards me, his hand shaking as it hovers in the air over my chest. “Can I—do you mind if I touch you?”

His hesitation triggers something deep inside of me, bringing to light a dominance I’ve never felt before. “Sweats off first,” I order.

Watching him shove his pants off, knowing he’s bare under there, is the kind of glorious reward reserved for heroes at the end of Olympic trials.

When the waistband clears his upper legs, my jaw drops.

He’s so godsdamned flawless it almost hurts to look at him.

A surge of possession starts in my stomach and radiates through me until it burns through my entire being with the force of a thousand suns.

Every inch of this man, from his brilliant brain to the muscular thighs he just revealed to me to the gorgeous cock nestled between them, is mine.

When the fabric hits the floor, I’m left staring, knowing that no one besides me will ever see Sam like this again because I'll kill them if they ever try. Sam Eaton is mine.

“I can put on my prosthesis if you wa—”

"What?" I lift an eyebrow in surprise. “Why would I ever ask you to do that?”

“You were staring…” He shrugs in a way that says without words that some shitty person told him his leg would be an eyesore in bed. Whoever it is, I’m going to kill them. Happily and with a godsdamned smile on my face.

“Let me be perfectly clear, my darling. I was staring because I can’t believe you’re all mine, not because I want you to put on your prosthesis.

You’re my gorgeous pet exactly the way you are.

Anyone who tells you otherwise may well join Arthur in the basement.

” At his snicker, I lean forward and demand, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way. Touch me. Right fucking now.”

He shivers before his hand drops to my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers, lightly pulling at it until my back arches and I’m gasping, heaving, frantic breaths over which I have no control.

With a curse, he drops his head, nipping at the rigid peak before turning to the other one.

Whichever nipple he isn't lavishing with his tongue gets the attention of his hands, skimming and rolling and pinching the sensitive flesh.

I’m gasping with each pass of his hand, every nip of his teeth, my legs scissoring beneath him. Desperate for the release he wants to give me. Willing to beg for more until I remember his words: I hold all the power.

I won’t beg. I’m going to take what I want. For the first time in my life, I’m going to take control of my pleasure.

My fingers find their way into Sam’s thick hair, dragging him away from my breast, now splattered in blood from the cut on his lip. “Be a good boy, and put that tongue to better use,” I purr as I press at the top of his head.

His breathing goes shallow. Before I can so much as inhale, he’s slithering down my body until he’s nestled between my thighs, the backs of my calves resting against his muscled back.

In the deep shadows of the room, the encounter feels magical, his hazel irises taking on a sharp gleam that looks like fire in the low light.

I blink in confusion. In the second between my eyelids closing and opening, it vanishes as if it was never there.

One long finger traces down the lips of my pussy, and I arch with a sharp cry. Then his finger is gone. “Lila?”

I hum in response. This sweet boy of mine had better get those talented hands back to work, or I’ll make him watch me get myself off with no part for him to play. My core tightens at the thought. I may have to do that anyway. “Is there any reason you’ve stopped, pet?”

From his perch between my thighs, Sam mutters something I can’t hear.

“What did you say?” I force myself to my elbows, staring imperiously down at him.

“I’ve only done this once before.” His voice is small as he repeats himself, a lost look on his face. “I want it to be good for you, but… ”

“Sam,” I murmur. “It will be good for me because it’s you.” Lowering a palm to his cheek, I stroke the lightly-stubbled skin. His head tilts into my palm, resting its weight against my hand.

“You’ll tell me what you need if I’m not doing it right?”

"Everything you do will be right." He levels a disbelieving squint at me. “Fine. Yes, my darling, I’ll tell you if you need to do something different.” I tap against his cheek. “Now don’t make me tell you again. Put that tongue to—”

The rest of the sentence is lost to a loud moan as Sam dives into my pussy, nipping and licking with no evidence of his earlier nerves anywhere to be found.

“Oh my gods, Sam,” I cry, falling back to the bed.

His mouth is heaven against my aching flesh, his tongue flicking against my raised clit perfection.

“That’s so good, pet, don’t you dare stop! ”

A hungry growl is the only response, its vibration pulsing through me, another layer of pleasure on top of his ravenous licking.

“Fuck,” I gasp. Almost in slow motion, my hands circle the back of his head, pressing him further into me. “I need more.”

Without a word, without so much as a questioning eyebrow raise, Sam slips his fingers deep inside me. The press of his fingertips against my interior wall, the alternated nips and licks at my clit, the snarled, “You taste so fucking good”…

All of it together is too good, spinning me out so much earlier than I expected.

“Please, sweetness, give me your cum,” Sam begs, his face still buried in between my legs, one hand pressed against my pelvis, the fingers of the other curved deep inside of me. “I want to lick you up the way you deserve.”

My eyelids flutter; my back arches. Lightning races through me, pleasure spiraling down my spine as pinpricks of ecstasy so intense they’re almost painful range across my entire body.

And then I’m screaming, my hands plunged deep in his hair, claws scraping along his scalp as I come harder than I ever have before in more than two millennia of life.