Samson's Lovely Mortal

“No, this is quite perfect.” Her eyes roamed over his body, sending a tingle of anticipation into his loins.

“More?” How many hours would she be able to keep up with him before she’d collapse in his arms, naked, hot, and exhausted?

“I’m quite hungry today.” She was playing his game, and he liked it. There was nothing shy about her. She showed him what she wanted and wasn’t embarrassed about it. A sign of a strong woman. He couldn’t wait to find out what she would be like in bed—if he ever made it to a bed with her and didn’t fall over her someplace else. Which was a definite possibility.

“I guess I’ll have to keep feeding you. I don’t want anybody to start a rumor that I don’t feed my guests. Nobody is going to leave my company hungry. For anything.”

She responded by licking her lower lip, and it looked like she didn’t even know she was doing it. His gaze was involuntarily pulled to her breasts as soon as his peripheral vision noticed a change in them: her nipples had hardened and were pressing through the fabric of her top. His cock responded in kind and tilted in her direction.

When he gave her the next canapé she held onto his hand, and as soon as she’d swallowed the food, her lips opened again. Slowly and deliberately she pulled one of his fingers into her mouth and licked it clean. He drew in his breath. She sucked on him gently, and her eyes locked with his.

She did the same with the next finger. Samson felt his cock strain toward her, asking to be next in line to feel those luscious lips. When she released him, he traced her lips with his moist finger.

“Delicious.” Delilah shifted, changing the way she crossed her legs, drawing his eyes to her smooth calves. He admired the gentle curves of her flawless flesh.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he had to wait. For now he wanted to bring her body temperature to boiling point and enjoy the view of her hardened nipples. Unfortunately, it was his own body temperature which was rising. Maybe he should ask Carl to turn on the air conditioning.

The ride to the theater was too short, especially since he was having so much fun. How he would make it through the two-hour performance he had no idea. He was in the right mood to give the tickets to the next passerby and take her back to his house immediately. But he was worried that his uncontrolled desire for her would scare her and make her retreat. He couldn’t risk it.

“Sir, we’re here.” He heard Carl’s voice as the car came to a stop.

Delilah watched Samson intently as he helped her out of the car like the perfect gentleman, almost as if the few minutes of erotic play hadn’t happened. He was deadly sexy, and the touch of his fingers on her lips had aroused her more than she would want anybody to know. If a simple touch did that to her, she’d be heading for the abyss shortly.

She could barely believe how bold she’d been in the car. She wasn’t normally the type to go after a man, but all her inhibitions had gone out the window as soon as he’d fed her the first piece of sushi. Potentially the whole situation could have been embarrassing, especially if he had withdrawn his fingers. But he hadn’t. He’d participated.

On the marquee of the theater she saw that the play they’d come to see was the musical Wicked. She’d heard good things about it and had wanted to see it when she was back in New York.

As Samson led her through the crowd, his hand rested possessively on the small of her back. It was a commonly accepted gesture for a date, but after what they’d shared in the car, it felt more sexual than anything—and she didn’t want to change a thing about it.

They were seated in the middle rows of the orchestra with a great view of the stage. His shoulder brushed against hers as they sat next to each other. He reached over to hand her the playbill. Their hands touched as she took it, and it sent a wave of fire through her core, low in her belly. She’d never met anybody who could send such sensations through her body with a simple touch. She couldn’t look at him for fear he would see in her face how aroused she was.

“I hope you’ll enjoy this.” She felt his whisper close to her ear and wasn’t sure he meant the show. Or was she the only one with a one-track mind? She turned to him to try to read him. No, she wasn’t the only one. The wicked glint in his eyes confirmed it.

“I think I will.”

His mouth was only a couple of inches from hers. How easy it would be to kiss him.

“I’ll make sure of that.” She would hold him to his promise.

The house lights dimmed, and slowly the chatter of the audience ceased. Everything went quiet in anticipation. She could almost feel the electricity prickle between them, when she suddenly felt his hand on hers. The sexiest man she’d ever met was holding hands with her in the dark of a theater. The touch conjured up images of hot, steamy sex, and she felt her body temperature spike as a result.