25

laurel

The modern house sits on top of a hill, overlooking the ocean. It’s not what I had expected at all on this island with all its wooden houses and cabins. It’s all concrete, steel, and lots of glass – and it’s absolutely stunning. Despite the floor-to-ceiling windows – I don’t spot any curtains – it seems private enough. You can only see the house from the water.

I pause on a stepping stone and turn toward the oceanfront. The sea breeze feels cold on my damp skin. The moon is full tonight and it is illuminating the deep blue water. Below, the huge ocean waves slam into the rocks with all their forces. Out here, it seems all magic and power, purity and cleanness.

Sam is standing behind me. He slips his hands around my waist.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” I say. “I wish I could do a sun salutation right here tomorrow.”

“And I wish I could see you do it.”

I turn to look at him. His moonlit eyes are mind-blowing, and it’s all I can do to breathe. He’s unbelievably beautiful. “But we have to be back before sunrise,” I whisper.

“Yes,” he simply states.

I glance back at the full moon over the ocean. “Well, I suppose I can always imagine it.”

Sam pushes aside my hair, presses feather-light kisses onto my neck. “You smell amazing,” he murmurs as his lips brush my skin. My whole body tingles. I never knew the back of my neck was so sensitive. “Let’s go inside.”

“Are you in a hurry, mister Laurens?” I tease.

“You have made me suffer long enough, Harper.”

“You banished me.”

Sam lets out a tortured moan. “And you’re going to remind me of that for the rest of my life, I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry, only for the rest of my life,” I laugh. It’s the first time I joked about it, and that’s a good thing. I want us to be happy tonight, untroubled and carefree, and what I want most is to make this a lasting memory for both of us, because this night may be all that we have.

Sam pulls my hair. “You sure know how to provoke me. The Titans have ruined my girl.”

It makes me laugh out loud.

“God, I missed that sound,” he says earnestly and sincerely. He kisses the top of my head, and then digs into his pocket, pulling out his keys to open the front door.

He pulls me with him into the hallway and then into the living room, where he switches on a table lamp on top of an antique cabinet.

I look around. The room is modern and elegant with oriental rugs on the concrete floor and comfortable chairs with a sofa. Sam’s mom has such good taste, but I already knew that from the way she decorated her antique shop.

“Did you grow up here?” I ask Sam.

He places his keys on the cabinet, digs into his pocket and pulls out something. He tosses it on the cabinet as well. It’s something small and looks to be made from gold.

“I spent some time here when I was little. Alternating between the other houses and the Olympic.”

The moonlight spills through the large glass windows, and I walk over. “What a beautiful place to grow up, right next to the ocean. I’ll bet you swam a lot.”

“Every chance I got. ”

I turn around. “Why did we come here? Why not to the cabin on the lake?”

Sam is staring at me with his hands in his pockets. He seems transfixed. “Because I don’t want anyone to find us. We can’t be too careful. Can I, ehm, get you anything? Something to drink, to eat?”

“It’s okay. I’m good.”

We gaze at each other a little longer, and just as I’m about to move Sam says, “No. Stay there.”

My stomach flutters as he moves in my direction. In three long strides, he stands before me. His hand comes up to touch my face. “The moonlight is spilling over you…” he says huskily. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect, Sam,” I say a little shy, with a slight chuckle.

“You’re perfect to me. I want you so much, Laurel,” he says, staring me deep in my eyes.

Emotions ripple through my body. I’m curious about his body and excited to see what it will be like when he loses control, a little afraid of my inexperience, and maybe just a little scared of a rainbow. I turn my head.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” I answer, shaking my head. “Just making sure there’s no rainbow hanging over the ocean. Maybe we should have brought Storm. Just in case, to warn us.”

Sam gives me a hint of a smile. “Let’s not worry about rainbows tonight.”

“But what if?”

“Then we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Forget about my world, baby. Tonight belongs to us. It’s you and me.”

“You have no idea how much I want to believe that, Sam.”

“Then believe it, because it’s true.” He lowers his mouth and kisses me softly. “I’ll be so careful with you, Laurel.”

“I don’t want you to be careful, Sam,” I say, my voice scarcely more than a whisper. “I want it all.”

His fingers touch my shoulders, the back of my neck, then slowly pull down the zipper of my dress. “You’re making me lose my mind,” he accuses in a soft voice, while he keeps staring me in the eye, keeps tugging at the zipper – all the way down.

My breath is coming rapidly, my heart thundering against my ribs. Sam’s hands slip underneath the satin fabric of my dress and glide over my naked back. I know he’s just as nervous as I am because I can feel his hands trembling slightly.

“You wouldn’t survive the night if I weren’t careful with you,” he whispers before taking my mouth. Before slipping the fabric of my dress over my shoulders, so it falls at my ankles.

We have hardly begun, but this already feels so sensual that I can’t hold back a soft moan. Sam is seducing me – slowly.

“I want to feel you naked under me.”

I swallow as I step out of the dress on the floor and bend over to take off my heels. My body aches, a sensation somewhere between pain and pleasure, burning and delight. Sam hooks his arm underneath the back of my knees, sweeps me up and carries me down the hallway and up the wrought iron staircase. His heart is hammering against my palm, his breath coming in rapid gasps.

I intertwine my fingers in Sam’s hair and pull down his head, so I can kiss his mouth while he is still carrying me through another hallway. I open his lips with mine and start kissing him madly, desperately. The low moan that escapes his exquisite lips makes my abdomen tighten.

Suddenly, he stops and opens a door, kicking it open further and sets me down on the edge of a mattress. The bed linens feel cool and luxurious against my skin.

I look around the room through half-lidded eyes. Like downstairs, the room is flooded with moonlight and overlooks the ocean. It looks like a guest room with a nicely made bed. I sure hope this is not the master bedroom.

Sam stands before me, shrugging off his shirt while looking down at me with those intensifying brown eyes. I shiver and feel my nerves increasing. I’m sitting on a bed, in nothing more than lace – thank God, I’m wearing lace – indigo boyshorts and a push-up bra. Standing before me is a demigod with blazing eyes, undressing himself. He pulls his T-shirt over his head, his shoulders and biceps flexing with every move he makes. I yearn for his body, burn for him. Burn everywhere.

A burning need between my legs…

A feeling I have never experienced before. Never experienced before Sam. If I can’t have him tonight, I’ll probably go insane.

His T-shirt drops to the floor, and when I look up, it takes my breath away. Sam is scanning my face, as I scan his body.

His tattooed body.

Feathers.

My eyelids flutter as I study the wings that cover his broad chest, all the way over his shoulders and some part of his arms. The black and grey ink of the feathers is intense and eerily realistic, as though an angel in black is standing before me.

He crouches down to take off his sturdy boots.

“It’s beautiful,” I say as soon as I’m able to find my voice.

Sam looks up from his crouch. “I guess you have your answer after all,” he says cryptically.

Then I remember the day at his cabin. The day I brought a wasted Bastian to his home at the lake. I thought I saw a tattoo on his arm, but it was faint. And when I saw him naked, the day I fell into the water, I’m pretty sure there was no trace of ink on his body. Just like a few days ago on the beach.

“I don’t understand… Is it new?”

Sam rises to his feet – his bare feet. We’re just a few moments away from seeing each other naked, although we have seen each other naked before. But that was due to circumstances, accidents. This is because we both want it – because we are yearning for it.

“No. I’ve had it since I was fourteen. Just like the others. We all got them the same time.”

I still don’t understand. Why haven’t I seen it before? I push myself up from the bed to take a closer look. The wings glow brightly in the light of the moon. “It looks so real.”

Sam grabs hold of my hand and lifts it to his chest. “It’s not.”

I almost expected to feel real feathers when my palm and fingers touch his chest, but what I feel is his own warm and silky skin and the rock-hard pecs underneath it. It seems like blasphemy, touching someone so divine, so angelic, lusting over him, but my goodness, I want him.

“The wings of an angel?” I ask, tracing my fingertips over his heaving chest.

“A swan.”

“Why a swan?”

“The swan is a symbol of my birth,” he says softly.

“A swan announced your birth?”

“Seven of them.”

“That’s beautiful. You’re special.” I study his tattoo a little further. “How come I didn’t see it before?”

“You have seen it, briefly. It’s only visible in the moonlight.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Sam lifts his hand and touches my cheek. He bends his head and kisses me softly, then removes the strap of my bra. “Your skin feels so smooth,” he mumbles, his lips brushing my shoulder. ‘‘Like pure silk.”

When his lips brush the scarred tissue on my arm, I yank my arm back reflexively.

“Don’t!” Sam grips my arm. “Never hide yourself from me,” he says, raining kisses on my arm, shoulder, down the side of my neck, my throat. My skin vibrates as I feel little electric jolts every time he touches me.

He searches for my eyes. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s okay, Sam.”

The next moment he’s all over me, letting out a short breath. No more sweet kisses on my skin. His lips force mine open and our tongues collide in a wet, hot kiss. His fingers trace a line up my back, making short work of unhooking and removing my bra. He tosses it aside as he breaks away from the kiss. He stops for a moment to look at me, sucking in his breath. “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he rasps, his now dark eyes roaming my body, from top to bottom.

Standing only in my boyshorts, I watch him looking at me, my body quivering, craving for his touch.

“God, you make me want to do things to you,” he breathes, taking a step back, increasing the space between us. He’s keeping a safe distance like he’s actually afraid to execute those things. But whatever they are, I want him to do them to me. I trust him, and I waited so damn long for this to happen. I’m ready to lose myself in this – in him.

“Then do them to me, Sam,” I beg, longing for his touch. “Please, don’t let me stand here by myself.”

A wrinkle appears between his brows, and I can tell he’s struggling. Then, after some deliberation, he finally moves in closer, slowly lowering his head, kissing me ever so slightly. His hands come up, cupping my breasts. My head falls back in a moan when his thumbs circle my nipples, hardening them some more.

My body arches into his. His belt presses hard into my belly, and my hands claw at it, trying to remove it. When I finally manage to wriggle it loose and yank it out of the loops, I start fumbling with the button of his jeans, but my hands are shaking, and I fail miserably.

Sam softly pushes me onto the bed. He takes a step back as his hands move to the fly of his jeans. Breathing hard and fast, I watch him unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. He slides his pants and tight boxers down his narrow hips, all the way down to his ankles, and steps out of them.

I gasp as he stands tall and totally naked in front of me, the moonlight spilling over his wings tat and bronze skin. Sam’s body is hard, lean, and muscled. I have difficulty swallowing when I drink in his torso, his tapered waistline, and his erect penis jutting out in front of him… I know I’m staring, but I can’t seem to look the other way. My lips part when my eyes reach the area where his lower abs meet his hips. Those V-shaped lines… If I wasn’t already taken before, I’m taken now. Sam is in great shape, and it makes me even more nervous than I already am.

He catches my shameless stare and his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, then walks over to the bed, wrapping one arm around my waist and taking me with him as he crawls onto the king-sized bed. He gently lowers me down and hovers over me, his erection brushing against my belly. I can’t resist threading my fingers into his thick tresses, tugging it gently when he kisses me softly, his tongue moving across my lips. “Tell me when my touching you hurts. I know it hurts you, Laurel, just tell me when it gets too intense.”

His hand glides up my body, gently cupping my breast again. He lowers his head and as his tongue flicks over the tip of my other breast, goose bumps erupt all over my skin. I let my hands explore his back and enjoy the heat of his skin and rippling muscles. Then he comes up, taking my mouth again and kissing me till we are both breathless. I grab his taut buttocks, and Sam immediately responds by grinding his hips into mine, his hard length pressing against me. Just one time, but it’s enough to make me groan out loud, giving me a taste of what to expect. His mouth finds his way to my other breast while his other hand caresses my belly. My body tingles with his every touch. Little jolts between pleasure and pain.

When his fingers slip under my panties, I gasp for air. The sensation is strange and wonderful. “Sam…” I breathe his name while gripping his wrist, wanting him to keep touching me. Doing more things to me.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice sounds deep and sensuous. “What do you want me to do? What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “It’s you I need. All of you.”

“You already have all of me, Laurel,” he says hoarsely, sliding a finger inside of me. My head falls back on the pillow with a faint moan, grinding into his palm. “Baby, you’re so wet for me,” he groans, pushing in another finger, stretching me.

To hear Sam talk like that is incredibly hot. With all the intimate moments we shared, I never saw him this aroused. “This is what you do to me,” I say breathless, clenching around his fingers when a strange feeling comes over me. It’s building inside my body, and I know what it is. I heard about it, read about it, but never experienced it.

“Sam…” I pant.

He takes my mouth, quickly withdrawing his fingers. “Not yet, baby,” he tells me softly. He steps off the bed, my eyes never leaving him.

Sam picks up his jeans and pulls a little foil packet out of his pocket. He tears it open, takes out a condom, and tosses aside the packet.

I close my eyes in embarrassment. I’m nineteen years old and not even once did it occur to me to protect myself against pregnancy. Not even after the warning coming from Rory.

“It’s a good thing it occurred to me,” Sam comments dryly on my thoughts.

“So you do read minds?” I ask, as I watch in fascination how he takes hold of his solid manhood and applies the condom, pulling it down over his length.

“It wasn’t that hard to read. The flush, the embarrassment...” He sends me a wink.

“I should have known better,” I sigh. “I don’t understand why…”

He returns to the bed and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Hey, this is my responsibility. I asked you to stay with me tonight; I was prepared.”

“You were?”

Sam lies down next to me. Pulling me up on top of him. He cups my face, pushing back my hair. “I saw something in your eyes this morning. It gave me hope. So I bought them, just in case. I would never condone myself if I made you pregnant.”

“I wouldn’t survive,” I whisper.

Sam gives me a wan smile. “You remembered, huh?”

I nod.

“Let’s not ruin the night,” Sam whispers.

I smile, pushing away the tears. “Let’s not.” I lower my head to kiss him, eager for his taste. He moans when I dot kisses all over him, but an animalistic growl sounds in the moonlit bedroom when I lower my hand and take one of his nipples between my teeth. Sam grabs me, and we roll and tumble across the bed, rocking it, just like we did in the ocean. And then I find myself underneath him, pinned to the mattress. With a quick movement of his wrist, he removes my underwear by tearing it.

After a long, tantalizing kiss, he pushes himself up and stares deep into my eyes. The anticipation of knowing what’s coming next makes me tremble all over. He studies my face intensely as he reaches between our bodies and pushes my thighs apart. A soft cry escapes me as he slowly glides inside me. He joins our fingers above our heads while he slides in deeper, never taking his eyes off me. I squeeze his fingers. I was prepared for a shock or two, but I can’t help wincing when I feel the heat spreading through me like a fever, like a burning rage.

Sam’s eyes scan my face. “Should I stop? Am I hurting you?” His voice is laced with concern.

“Please, Sam,” I beg, “stop worrying. I want this just as much as you. I won’t break. The pain is nothing.” What I am experiencing is somewhere between pleasure and agony, but I don’t want him to stop. I never want this to end.

“Are you sure?”

Nodding, I bite my lip.

With our body’s quaking, he drops his forehead onto mine. “You’ve brought me to my knees, Laurel,” he whispers hoarsely.

I squeeze my eyes shut. A single tear slips through the cracks.

“Tous ophthalmous s’ anoiksai boulēsomai. Let me see your eyes,” he says softly.

After a while, the prickling sensation fades away, and what is left is pure bewilderment – our locked eyes, our unsteady breaths blending, our hearts pounding like crazy, and Sam gliding in and out of me in a lazy rhythm – taking me deep and slow.

“Sam…” I shout as I feel the pressure building. My body tightens.

“I’m with you, baby,” he hums, gathering me in his arms with breaths just as shallow as mine.

Rainbow. My head falls to the side – to the window.

“There’s nothing outside, Laurel. It’s just us. You and me. Me in you.”

Sam’s words chase away my last dark thoughts, and I find his eyes.

And finally lose myself in them.

In him.

Only in him.

“Laurel,” he utters throatily, searching my eyes. “I want you with me forever,” he says, before resting his forehead against mine. Before letting himself go.