Work Text:
Melting Down--Holding Sam ‘verse
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“You'll never get tired of this, will you?”
Bella shrugged one shoulder and dipped the spoon into the tub of chocolate chip ice cream she'd placed on the nightstand, just far enough away from Sam's radiating body heat. “Probably not,” she answered truthfully, and then brought the spoon to hover a bare millimeter above his skin.
“You’re never going to share, are you?”
“Probably not.” That was the truth, too. Not even a few seconds were required before the contents easily slid off the metal. Tilting her head to lean in closer, Bella let her tongue dart out to lick along the taut, smooth warmth of his lower abdomen.
The groan Sam somehow managed to muffle instead sent quivers beneath her lips as she lingered in a kiss.
“Don't stop,” he whispered.
Bella raised a brow, and looked up at him. “Are we talking about the ice cream now, or—ohh.” In one fluid movement, she was pressed tightly to him, eye to eye, nose to nose, chest to chest and— “Point taken,” she gasped.
“Are you sure? I’m not sure.” Holding her wrists pinned in one hand, he slid the other beneath her shirt. She simultaneously tensed and sighed as he palmed her breast. “I’d better make sure.”
“Yeah.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and rubbed herself against him. “You’d better. But if you don’t want me to stop, shouldn’t I have my hands free?”
“I don’t need your hands as much as I need your mouth.” Withdrawing the hand on her breast, he undid his jeans and freed his erection.
“Uh-huh.” Eyeing his fingers as they stroked up and down a couple of times, Bella licked her lips. “Can I have that, please?”
He laughed and rolled to his back again. “You’re so polite when you want to go down on me.”
“And you’re so rude when you want to do it to me,” she replied, taking advantage of her freedom to kneel between his legs. “‘Give me that, Bella.’”
“You love it.”
“Uh-huh. I also love this.” And without further ado, she sank down onto his length with her mouth, swallowing deep into her throat.
Sam gasped and twitched, his hands going to her head to hold back her hair. “Fuck.”
She moaned her agreement as she slid back up, working her lips over the tip of his cock before going all the way back down again. Doing well at blow jobs was something of a matter of pride for her, not just because she loved seeing Sam helpless and writhing just from her lips, tongue, and throat, but because it felt nice to give him something without necessarily expecting anything in return. From his assurances, she’d gotten pretty damn good at it.
This time, though, he wasn’t in the mood to come alone. Just as she’d gotten him to start groaning over and over again, he seemed to shake himself out of it and sat up enough to lift her head. “C’mon, sweetheart. I need you.”
That was always good to hear. Obediently, she scooted up to straddle his stomach, and then lowered herself to take him inside. They both hummed in satisfaction once he was buried fully. “Oh God yes.”
“Mm-hmm.” He pulled her to him for a kiss and then settled back to let her set the pace.
Bella wasn’t interested in hurrying things along; instead she ground her pelvis to his in a slow, steady rhythm and kissed his chest. He shivered when her hair slid across his skin. She smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re cold.”
“Never, especially when I’ve got you around.” He shifted to grip her hips and encourage her to move more; in response she sat back and stopped altogether. “Bella...”
“You can’t order me around,” she said, knowing it was reckless and not caring at all. With Sam, she was safe. Always safe. “I’m not Pack.” In response, he let go of her and stretched long, flaunting his strength as he folded his arms beneath his head and raised his eyebrows at her. Now it was Bella’s turn to shiver. “Holy shit, Sam.” Eager palms and fingertips ran over all the muscles thus displayed.
“I don’t need to order you around.” Bracing his heels on the bed, he lifted up into her.
Bella cried out and arched her back, nails digging into his skin. “No, you don’t.”
She gave in and rode him hard, eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the heat between her legs and the hard body beneath her hands and the deep sounds he made as he urged her on, until at last all the sensations coalesced into one overwhelming wave of pleasure.
As they lay gasping, sweat-slick skin sliding together, Sam chuckled. “I think your ice cream melted.”
“That’s what I’m going to say from now on when you make me come. ‘My ice cream just melted. Into a puddle.’”
“I like that.” He licked her neck, and that started things all over again.