...His eyes widened when he saw the scar over her heart. “You really stuck a knife into your heart.”
She smiled. “I really did.”
He traced the ridged scar gently, his finger hesitating at her nipple. When she didn’t protest, he went on to caress her nipple gently, lovingly. “There is so much special about you, little Caity.”
“The session is coming in minutes, Samson. They may not take the time to ready me. Would you like to?”
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Samson was her handler, and yet they’d never touched in a sexual way. Beads of sweat popped out on his dark face, and he merely stared at her.
“Not to fuck me,” she told him. “Just…get me wet. Turn me on, Samson. After all, I’ve heard that’s part of a handler’s job.” Her nipples stiffened, and between her legs she began to throb. She wouldn’t need much preparing. She was ready now. But Samson…she wanted him to touch her. She might never see him again and he’d been her only friend.
He bent his knees and knelt before her. His face was even with her breasts. He was enormous, her Samson, the bulkiest, biggest man she’d ever seen. He didn’t lift his hands to touch her, but opened his mouth and slid her nipple into his mouth.
Her breathing quickened as he took his time with that one nipple, rolling it with his tongue, sucking gently...
4 weeks ago