Chapter 5

The sound that came from Samuel's throat was a muffled roar, a burst of pure animal need that echoed in the silent room.stuffyonly by the constant sound of the sea. The last vestige of his control, already so fragile and strained, disintegrated in that instant. The sight of Alis, naked and glorious under the moonlight, touching herself with a boldness that took his breath away, was the last bit of control he retained; Samuel sent it to hell, crossing the line between loss of control and reason.

He crossed the distance that separated them in two long, predatory strides. His movement was no longer restrained; it was the charge of a man who had lost control of himself. His hands, large and strong, were not gentle. They gripped Alis's face urgently, his fingers digging into her soft hair, at the jawline, pulling her towards him as if it were an antidote to a poison consuming him from within.

"Damn you," he growled, his breath hot and heavy with whiskey and desire hitting her face an instant before his lips sealed with hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a devouring.

Her mouth was a demand, a punishment for having pushed him to the limit, an adoration for having surrendered. His tongue invaded her mouth unceremoniously, a flame of fire that dominated all the space, all the air, all the sense of reality that still remained in her. Alis groaned, a muffled and surrendered sound that was lost in his mouth. Her hands, which moments before had been touching her own intimacy, rose and gripped his shoulders, feeling the hard, tense muscles beneath the thin layer of cotton of his shirt. She clung to him like a shipwrecked woman, her nails digging into the fabric, trying to find a foothold in a world that had turned upside down.

The kiss was pure hunger. It was desperation and a silent confession that this connection, forged in glances and double entendres, was far deeper and more disturbing than either of them could admit. His teeth dragged across Alis's lower lip, not violently, but with a possessiveness bordering on pain. A delicious, addictive pain, one she never knew she could crave.

He stopped the kiss as suddenly asit startedHis hands left her face to roam over her naked body. His rough palms, marked by calluses from physical labor and manly hobbies, slid across her shoulders, her arms, her waist, like a hungry blind man seeing for the first time. Each touch was an exploration, a tactile cataloging of every inch that would be hers.

"Damn it, Alis," he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl against the skin of her neck. His mouth followed the path of her hands, kissing, nibbling, sucking the soft skin at the curve where her neck met her shoulder. She felt a mark would remain there, a bluish-purple seal that would scream her ownership to the world. The idea excited her even more.

"You are… God, you areperfect.”

His hands found her breasts, full and firm, her nipples already erect and aching with desire. He molded them with his hands, squeezing with a force that made her gasp, before lowering his head and taking one of them into his mouth. His tongue was warm, moist, enveloping. He sucked on the nipple with a voracity that...she didShe screamed, her fingers digging into his dark, disheveled hair.

" Samuel…” she groaned, his name a mantra, a prayer, a cry of surrender.

He didn't answer with words. His response was to go down. His hands traveled over her stomach, her hips, until they gripped her thighs, opening them with an authority that admitted no refusal. He knelt between her legs, his face at the level of her sex, and the sight that presented itself to him made him utter another low, reverent curse.

"Look at this," he murmured, his voice trembling. He ran his thumbs along her outer lips, parting them even wider, exposing the moist, pink core that throbbed with excitement. "All wet for me. All... mine."

Alis looked down, her chin almost touching her chest, and saw his head between her legs, his dark, almost black eyes fixed on her with fierce concentration. Shame had no place there. Only desire, raw and magnificent.

"It's yours," she confirmed, her voice a whisper. "Only yours."

It was the confirmation he needed. He lowered his head and his mouth met hers.

The first contact was a shock of pure ecstasy. His tongue was a living flame, a precise and relentless instrument of pleasure. He didn't kiss her; he worshipped her. With his mouth, with his tongue, with his lips. He licked her entire length, from the base to her clitoris, with agonizing slowness, savoring her as if she were the sweetest nectar. Alis cried out, her hips lifting off the mattress, her hands gripping the sheets.

"This... doesn't stop," she pleaded, her moans growing louder, less restrained.