Rating: Explicit
Notes: A birthday gift for my friend, Missy! Hope they live up to your expectations, love. I sure had fun with them.
Word Count: 5,962
Disclaimer: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.
Written: 2/2012
Madeline Westen watched out the window with thinly veiled wariness as Sam got out of new looking Lexus and checked his teeth and hair in the side view mirror before straightening out the collar on his Hawaiian shirt. Just a little disgusted with the display, she opened the door and called out; "Michael's not here, Sam… you don't have to primp for my sake." She groaned and pressed a fresh cigarette to her lips – shaking her head when he looked up at her with an innocent raise of his thick eyebrows.
"Madeline! I'm not looking for Michael, actually…" He made it up to the front porch in a few long strides, smiling just a little too big not to be obvious he was after something. "I'm looking for my favorite lady."
"Yeah, well I haven't seen much of Fiona since the last split." Madeline sighed and stepped aside to let him in.
Sam closed the door behind himself and picked up her lighter from the dining table; "Come on now, we both know that she won't give me the time of day let alone make 'favorite lady' status." He turned toward her and flicked the Bic in a swift motion, holding it up for her; "Need a light?"
She rolled her eyes, but let him light it anyway – taking a deep drag, she huffed a plume of gray smoke before asking; "What do you need, Sam?"
He looked briefly taken aback by the frank question and then lowered his eyes sheepishly; "Man, you don't pull punches do ya?" He chuckled under his breath; "See… the thing is, I've got these tickets and they're sort of for two people…" a smile that seemed somewhat more genuine curved the corners of his mouth; "…and I thought maybe you might be interested in going with me."
"Tickets? What, you mean like for a ballgame?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Better," the smile stretched slightly, creasing the corners of his eyes; "a trip."
"What kind of trip?" She was suspicious, and frankly had every right to be… she'd come to distrust men that won't be direct and Sam Axe doubly so. "I'm not interested in looking at prime real estate in the Everglades."
"No, no… nothing like that, Maddy… I'm talking me and you, making the Virgin Islands a little bit slutty." He cleared his throat and quickly added; "In our own separate ways, of course."
Her face drew up; the burning cigarette perched between her lips incredulously. After a silent moment she responded; "You're shitting me."
"No shit." He shook his head and slipped the passport out of his pocket; "Just a quick flight over to Puerto Rico, hop on a cruise ship for seven days; St. Thomas, Barbados, all them other saints and back to San Juan in time for a couple mojitos and a jaunt back home."
"A cruise?" She still didn't believe a word he said.
Sam opened his – Chuck Finley's – passport and flashed a pair of round trip plane tickets and two Carnival Cruise tickets. "This look like I'm joking?"
She snatched the tickets, catching the date at the top; "This flight leaves tomorrow morning!" Madeline took a long drag off her cigarette; "Why'd you wait until now?"
"Just found out!" He shrugged; "It's not like you've got a lot going on, pack a couple bags and turn off the lights before you leave."
"I haven't updated my passport this millennium."
"No problem. Come on, Maddy… live a little." He flashed another broad, confident smile… clearly well aware that she couldn't possibly say 'no'.
She pursed her lips and started at him another long moment before handing back the tickets; "And what does Michael think about you taking me on a romantic cruise?"
Sam shrugged and brushed an uncomfortable hand through his hair that spoke volumes in and of itself; Mikey didn't exactly know that she was being invited and if he did he'd have some less than kind words to say about it. "It's only romantic if we're going as a couple and while we might be sharing a stateroom I can promise you'll have it all to yourself."
Madeline sighed out another thick plume of smoke and shook her head; "So he doesn't know?"
"Not… exactly. I mean, I told him I was taking a lady friend and he may have assumed it was the sort of lady friend that keeps me in cars and watches."
"Sam…" She frowned; "I can't accept this…"
"You can, I'll pick you up at five and we'll be in our hotel room in San Juan by noon – after a nice long siesta and some salmorejo we'll be checking in to a high class stateroom and hitting up the midnight buffet."
She sighed even more loudly; "I need to think about this, Sam… I mean, it's really short notice…"
"Great, I'll call out for some dinner while you pack."
"I was going to reheat some leftover meatloaf from Sunday dinner…" she swatted his hand as he whipped out his cell phone; "you still take it with extra ketchup?"
As expected, Madeline didn't fight it too hard and when Sam showed up the next morning she had her bags packed and he'd brought Mrs. Finley's passport along for the ride. The flight had been short, and relatively unremarkable save for the gentleman with far too much nose hair that ended up sandwiched between them – leaving Sam trapped against the window. By the time they checked in to the hotel and got lunch, it was time to catch a long nap, the ship didn't board for another ten hours and since Sam'd gone through the trouble of booking the room Maddy figured it'd only be right to actually sleep in it.
"I didn't have time for a shower, you mind if I rinse off?" Sam asked casually as he dug into his overnight bag.
"Sure, knock yourself out." Madeline found an unopened pack of duty free smokes and peeked at the massive mound of toiletries in his case; "You've got half a damn pharmacy in there… what're you planning on getting shipwrecked with the Old Spice guy?"
"Hey, it takes a lot of work to look this good; you know how it is… not like you just slap your face on with trowel in the morning – it takes work to put that together." He shrugged and gestured at her; "I've got my skincare routine, shaving, after shave, balm, hair care, cologne, emergency facial mark removal…"
"Pimple cream?" She held back an obvious chuckle.
"Laugh all you want, sister; I haven't had a date spend all night staring at an unfortunate blackhead in decades." She rolled her eyes and reached into his hip pocket without asking, wrapping her fingers around the lighter he carried so she wouldn't have to dig into her purse for one and he replied; "Hey hey! Getting a little fresh there, aren't you?"
Madeline shook her head and held up the small pink Bic; "Sorry to disappoint ya, Sam… I'm gonna step out on the balcony while you do your makeup." She flashed a smug grin and added; "For the record, all this?" She gestured at herself from head to toe; "Takes about thirty minutes to throw together."
Sam moved to protest, but was cut off by her stepping out on the balcony and closing the glass door behind her. When he came out of the bathroom, freshly showered in a clean pair of wrinkle free slacks, she was already curled up on the large single bed with her back turned toward him. Her shoulders rose and fell with a slow, sleepy pace. "Hey, you still awake?" he asked quietly, unsurprised when she didn't answer. After a few moment's deliberation, he dragged out a squeaky old foldaway cot from under the bed and made quick work of unfolding it.
He'd slept in a lot of rough places, and while a foldaway in a decent hotel in Puerto Rico beat the hell out of fighting the ticks for a spot of soft dirt in some third world cesspool – the big bed sure looked damn nice from where he was laying. He tossed and turned for the better part of an hour before giving up on the cot and folding it away again. Pulling on a lot of years as a lady killer, he laid out on top of the blankets on the edge of the bed and whispered; "Sleep well, Maddy."
Madeline woke first, still over an hour before Sam's alarm would go off to tell them the cab would be there any time. Groggily, she pushed her shoulders and back against the warm, solid form behind her. It took several minutes to realize it wasn't her body pillow back home lodged between her and the wall… it was a man, and not just any man either. "Sam…" She whispered, feeling the prickle of goose bumps on her skin when he exhaled a warm breath against the back of her neck before nuzzling closer to her.
"Mmm, that's Papa's name, baby…" he muttered in a sleepy drawl and tilted his hips forward until she could feel the obvious push of what would soon be a pretty embarrassing problem against the curve of her ass.
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, hoping that maybe if she ignored it he'd wake up and assume she was none the wiser – avoiding a rather awkward week on a boat they hadn't even gotten on yet. Instead, she felt his strong hand slide up her side and cup her breast through her sleep-skewed shirt. Her breathing caught in her throat and she gulped again, telling herself it was bound to happen and he was an ass for climbing in bed with her. She'd seen him sleep before, groping pillows and murmuring obscenities in his sleep as he lewdly rubbed the front of his shorts against a knotted blanket until a wet spot spread across his fly; waking up with him feeling her up wasn't exactly a shocker. Unfortunately, her body didn't exactly disagree with the thought of a strong, slightly younger man taking advantage. "Sam," she forced her voice somewhat louder, knowing full and well if she didn't stop it soon they'd both end up pretty embarrassed. When his fingers only gripped tighter, his thumb pressing the lightweight fabric of her shirt into the lace of her bra, she knew she'd have to stop it. Forgoing words, she groaned and pulled away from him, standing up before he could even register that she had moved.
"Hmmm, wha… is it time?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
"No, Sam," Madeline sighed and fumbled a cigarette out of the pack; "stepping out for a smoke."
"Mmm, right… hope you don't mind I bunked with you – the pullout here's almost as bad as a Turkish prison." Sam rolled onto his back and scratched his belly where his flashy Hawaiian shirt had ridden up, blissfully unaware of the tent in his Dockers. "Promise I was a gentleman."
"Of course," she shook her head and picked up the lighter, turning her back to him when she felt the blush rise in her cheeks. "You always are."
Somehow, they made it on the boat and after a trip through the midnight buffet it was pretty easy for Madeline to simply crash in the huge bed in their stateroom. Sam, in a gentlemanly turn that was heavily affected by the rack of ribs and bottomless mojitos, fell asleep draped across the small sofa in the suite's living area. The next day, Madeline managed to shower and slip out before he even woke up, treating herself to a facial and body wrap at the spa and then far too many hours in the casino while Sam did whatever it was that a guy always on the prowl did while trapped at sea.
It was fun, and with an extra couple hundred bucks to her name and a few cocktails in her belly, tracking Sam down to see if he was interested in a somewhat higher class dinner than the buffet feed trough sounded like as good a way to cap off the night as any. Her first instinct turned out to be the best; he was sitting on the sofa in their stateroom watching a boxing match in his boxer shorts and an undershirt. "You drag me all the way out to sea to watch a couple guys beat the crap out of each other? Don't you get enough of this at home?"
Sam grunted and shrugged at her, casting a sheepish grin over his shoulder. "There's a big difference, this is on TV and less likely to involve thugs in an Escalade with guns."
Madeline shrugged; "Fair enough. Put some pants on, I'm taking you to dinner."
"So romantic – what is it about me that caught your eye? My dashing good looks, my boyish charm, or the way I can suck the meat off a rib bone?" He turned just enough to watch her over the back of the sofa, but didn't get up.
"I'm hungry and thought you deserved something a little better than the buffet."
"Hey, don't knock it – fourteen kinds of meat and I'm a happy man," he grinned.
She rolled her eyes; "You're also a gassy man that snores half the night. Come on, I know you packed a good suit."
"Sorry, no can do." Sam shrugged; "I packed for comfort on this trip, I didn't even pack my black socks."
With a heavy sigh, she pouted and sat on the edge of the bed; "Well, I guess I'll just go by myself."
"We could always order room service?" Sam pushed up from the couch and approached the courtesy phone, glancing over the menu as he picked it up; "Assuming you hit big in the casino."
Madeline considered the option and leaned back on her hands, watching him with a partial smirk; "They got lobster?"
"With or without steak?"
"Just order, Sam." Her smile stretched until it felt real, genuine. It was almost as amusing as the looks they got when Sam answered the door in his undies to sign for a couple plates of lobster and steak that cost entirely too much with a bottle of red wine that the steward had insisted would not pair well at all with their meal but brought anyway.
They ate in relative calm, Sam did most of the talking as he spun a partially true story about how Michael and Fiona had gotten themselves trapped in a compromising position and he'd had to come in save the day. Of course, he left out the part where they weren't really trapped and what he'd thought were cries for help weren't. "I'm telling you," he gestured with his fork, talking with his mouth full of butter and lobster; "that was an awkward situation."
Madeline laughed and downed the tail end of her third glass, pouring out the last of the bottle for another half; between the excellent food, a little bit of a buzz and good company, she was starting to think that maybe the cruise had been a pretty good idea after all. She took a long drag on her cigarette and exhaled toward the open window before leaning in close to the table and replying; "That's nothing, now last night at the hotel in San Juan? That was awkward."
He lifted an eyebrow; "What'd you mean? So we shared a bed, it's not like we did something other than sleep in it fully clothed."
She took a quick puff and then stabbed the butt out in the garnish and butter left on her plate; maybe without a few drinks in her she'd have let it slide and laughed it off – but if he could sit and eat lobster in his underwear, then she could very well say what's on her mind. Not that she would say why it was on her mind, of course. "Mmmhmm, you call grabbing my tits like some frat boy 'nothing'?"
Sam stared at her blankly for a long moment and then smiled nervously, watching her face for some sort of tell; "You're kidding, right? I mean, I'd never… not that you aren't attractive but I always make a habit of asking before I touch."
"Yeah, well unless a hard dick on my leg was your way of asking…"
"Oh jeeze…" he shook his head, a slight redness creeping up his chest through the nest of curls poking out of his undershirt. "That definitely wins for most awkward moment in recent memory. I'm sorry…"
"It's fine…" she smiled, watching him squirm at the realization. "I'm flattered; I haven't been manhandled like that in a while."
He lowered his head and happened to catch the time on his watch; "Crap, it's after nine… I promised someone I'd meet them…" He offered an apologetic smile as he pushed away from the table and stumbled for a pair of khakis and a clean shirt. "I won't be gone long, and I promise I'll come back with dessert."
It was sudden, unexpected to say the least; "What, less than a day on the boat and you've already got a hot date?"
"No, no! Just a friend, you know… we sort of coordinated trips with him and his old lady." He stumbled again, nearly falling into a wall as he tugged on his pants. "I'll be back in like an hour, tops – find a movie and order up another bottle of wine on me."
Madeline frowned and watched quietly as he left and then finished off her wine. If she'd learned in anything in the years she'd come to know Sam Axe it was that he was always working an angle – and if the angle wasn't getting some hapless woman in bed it was work. She realized a little too late the cruise was clearly the latter.
A couple hours later, Madeline was curled up on the sofa watching a Spanish soap opera with a box of overpriced room service chocolates. She knew it shouldn't shock her that she'd been used as part of his cover, it wasn't the first time she'd been dragged into one of their cases without permission or even being told first. By the time Sam let himself into the stateroom she'd gone from tipsy and frustrated to mostly sober and angry.
"Hey Maddy, I took the liberty of picking up another bottle wine – figured another drink before we hit the rack." He flashed another sheepish smile, clearly trying to apologize for running out on her after dinner. Unsuccessfully.
Madeline didn't even look at him, she stared at the television and said; "Whatever you want, Sam. It's not like you actually want me here." As though punctuating the less than passive aggressive barb, she popped a coconut cream and dark chocolate truffle in her mouth.
Sam sighed; "Come on, don't be like that. You know I want you here… I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't."
"Let me guess, one of your girlfriends couldn't make it?"
"That's not it at all. I mean, okay… I asked you to come because I thought you might have a good time. And yeah, okay – so I'm working a little. It's all done now, I got what I needed and all I have to do is spend the rest of the week goofing off."
"Suit yourself, I'll be waiting until it's time to go back home." The situation had soured her pretty bad; between being lied to and being used, the last thing she really wanted to be doing was spending time with Sam Axe.
He shook his head and opened the bottle of wine, pouring out a glass for each of them before taking it over to her. "Look, Maddy…" He licked his lips and handed her the glass, sitting down on the center cushion. "I invited you to come because I like spending time with you and I can't imagine anyone else that I'd have a good time hanging out at the buffet with." He looked up at her with soft eyes and added; "I guess I thought maybe we might hit it off or something."
She raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of her wine before asking incredulously; "Hit it off? So you're coming on to me now?"
He shrugged; "Why not? You're a good looking, classy woman who can take down a six pack like nobody's business. I'm a moderately handsome and easy going guy that knows how to treat a lady…"
"Oh this is just…" she growled and pushed away from the sofa, setting down her glass to trade it out for her smokes; "you're terrible, you know that? You're a liar and a cheat and a terrible human being. I need a cigarette."
Sam swallowed back a slug of the bitter red wine and followed her to the door – slamming his hand against it to block her passage; "You don't. You're trying to get away from me, and you know what, I deserve that. And yeah, sometimes I am all those things – but you know that. I can count the number of people that know that information on my wood shop teacher's left hand." He tried to look her in the eyes, but she turned away; "Why can't we have our fun, it's not like I'm trying to marry you – just give in to the tension and have at it."
"What are you talking about?" She sighed loudly and finally looked at him; "I just want to go home."
"You want me." He replied casually, letting his hand rest on her hip only to have it pushed away; "And in all fairness, the feeling is mutual, I mean… you think I put on a show for every chick that sees me sleeping?"
She shook her head; "You slept. I slept. It happens; I mean, so what you got a little turned on… you're a guy…"
"I don't mean yesterday, I mean back when I was staying at your place and you went and casually got up at six in the morning to do laundry and happened to notice my door was open. Come on, you really think I sleep with the door open? And there's no way you get up that early on a Saturday thinking about fresh towels. I saw you watching me and figured I'd give you a little something to remember me by."
"You…" her eyes narrowed to slits, she hated to admit that she remembered… but she very much did. It wasn't every day she got to see his mouth twist and hang open while he rocked himself against a blanket until he shuddered and went limp. In a way, she'd always wondered how he slept through it… and it wasn't like she was hiding; she watched the whole thing. "You pervert."
"You watched." He smirked, returning his palm to the curve of her hip and hooking his thumb just inside the waistband of her deck pants. "If I'd have had a little time to prepare I'd have been naked so you could see the big guy in full splendor."
She shook her head and frowned; "You're disgusting."
"I'm not afraid to get what I want."
"Oh, and what – suddenly you want me? Don't you have some woman with too much money to be playing games with?" She pulled away and tried to move him from the door only to have his arms sweep around her from behind and hold her close against his chest. "Let me go!"
"One, it aint sudden. Two, if I wanted someone else here, there'd be someone else here." Sam squeezed her even harder, turning her away from the door; "If you don't want to sleep with me, that's fine – but don't you think for a minute I only wanted you here for a cover." Somewhat reluctantly, he let her go and waited. It didn't take more than a second before he felt the sting of her palm across his cheek; "All right, I deserve that…"
Madeline pulled back her hand and considered hitting him again, riled up from the rough treatment, but ultimately it was kind of true – maybe it could be a good thing. Assuming he wasn't talking out his ass. A frown still creasing her lips, she reached up to his cheek again and when he winced in anticipation she cupped the warm red mark she'd left behind and then pushed up on her toes to kiss him.
Still reasonably wary, Sam waited until she broke off the kiss to ask; "So you're not mad at me?"
"I'm furious," she leaned closer to him and let her head rest on the inside of his shoulder; "you shouldn't have said anything and just let me be angry."
"If I wanted angry sex where I went away with bruises, it wouldn't be with you." He smiled again, tentatively resting his palms on her hips and holding her against him while the warm feeling wrapped around a clot of lobster and wine in his gut. "If we're gonna do this, I want it to be right."
"Right?" She chuckled under her breath; "What'd you mean, 'right'? There's nothing right about this, Michael'd kill you if he knew what you were thinking."
"And if he knew what you were thinking?" The smirk returned full force; "Maybe I shouldn't have got dressed before I got in bed with you yesterday."
"Sam," She narrowed her eyes and pulled away again, and then put her cigarettes down on the bedside table. He gave her a confused look and she looked down at her hands where they knit together somewhat nervously; she'd never been propositioned before… sex just sort of happened. Or more often than not, didn't. It was awkward and she knew if she had any sense she'd tell him to get the hell out. Instead, she quietly asked; "Would you turn off the lights?"
"What if I want to see you?" he asked boldly, turning down the dimmer until it was nearly dark anyway. "I hope you know that you are not the kind of woman that needs to get naked in the dark."
Madeline growled and unbuttoned her blouse before throwing it roughly the direction he seemed to be in. "Stop talking, you're making this awkward."
"It was pretty awkward five minutes ago, I think we're past the awkward stage and well into downright uncomfortable. I'm hoping for a comeback." Sam muttered, stripping off his pants and opening the first two buttons of his shirt before pulling it over his head in an effort to speed things along.
"I mean it;" a slight whine entered her voice and she stepped out of her trousers. She took off her bra before running an uneasy hand over her cotton panties. "I don't even know why I'm doing this… this is probably the stupidest…"
Sam wriggled across the bed and grabbed her around the middle, pulling her down onto the bed; "Let me finish that thought for you." In an easy motion, he curled himself against her side and kissed her again, one hand wedged underneath her shoulders and holding her as the other traced over the bare skin of her soft belly. "See, not so bad?" He murmured, breaking away only a moment before stealing several more soft kisses.
Slowly, the discomfort did drop away – even as his touch began to linger over the elastic band between nearly making a mistake and most definitely making a mistake. "Sam?" she said in a hushed but husky tone; "We don't have to do this."
"We don't." He replied, rolling his thumb over the edge of the fabric as he teased it down the slightest bit lower. "But, uh… I'd like to if you're still interested."
A shared nervous laugh broke the tension just enough for Madeline to nuzzle up against his mouth and kiss him. Her tongue parted his lips and tasted the faint, but familiar taste of wine and seafood and mint. When his fingers shifted lower, pushing under the thin cotton barrier and stroking gently over her sex, she closed her eyes and let him take control.
"Shh…" he groaned appreciatively against her mouth, splitting her open with the gentle dig of his middle finger down the warmth of her slit; "Mmm, perfect… open up for me."
She flushed hot and parted her knees, the unfamiliar sensation of his thick fingers gently stroking over her more than enough to elicit an unexpected moan. When he grazed over the swell of her clit and then pushed the flesh back to stroke the tender bud with his thumb, she buried her face in his shoulder and let out a soft cry against his throat. "Oh God..."
"Just getting warmed up, baby." He smirked and rubbed more deliberately, dipping his middle two fingers inside her to draw up the new wetness. "You like that, Maddy?" he murmured, the slick fingers joining his thumb to rub her like she'd never felt before.
She cried out again, nothing more than a thin, whimpering yelp as she lifted her hips against the sensation. "Sam…"
He shushed her again and wriggled lower on the bed to nose up against her bare breasts and when his searching mouth found a hard nipple, he followed the graze of his teeth with his powerful tongue. In his mind it wasn't just about getting off, he wanted her to get it… to know it was okay to want it and that everything was all right. It was quite possibly the worst excuse for good, if not a little awkward, sex that he'd ever thought of. He felt her body tremble and her hips jerked even harder; the woman was a live wire – practically putty in his hands with barely a hearty tease. "Mmm, not yet… not yet…" he pulled off her nipple with a wet pop and then kissed the swell of soft flesh earnestly. "Take off your panties."
"What?" She breathed, letting out a displeased and frustrated sigh when the hard strokes stopped; "Damn it Sam, I was close…"
"I'll get you there." He grinned wide in the dark, gripping the cotton underpants at each hip and working them off without preamble. "I'll get you there until you can't take it anymore."
"I don't know about… oh… god… Sam…" she tried to protest, but let out a guttural groan at the sudden sweep of his flattened tongue against her mound. She whined low in her throat, and dug both hands into the pillow as her body thrummed with each hard lick. When his lips sealed against the top of her mound it took only a second before she realized what he was doing, and another before the slight quiver in her stomach turned to a full out fire of uncontrolled bliss. There wasn't a vibrator on the planet that could pull off the kind of tricks Sam's lips and tongue seemed to think was second nature.
Sam moaned against her mons, letting it vibrate against the tender flesh as she came over his tongue. Taking his time, he worked his hand between them and let his fingers stroke over her opening, spreading the slickness over her labia as he concentrated his mouth against her clit, returning to the gentle, tender laps that wouldn't be nearly enough to force her over the edge so quickly again. "Mmm, tastes amazing…" he murmured against her, forcing his voice to a lower, rumbling purr – he wasn't too shocked when she swatted at the back of his head whimpered for him not to stop.
"Oh God, oh God…" she whined again, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a nonsense jumble of vowel sounds and little gasps – rising up to much louder and demanding cries when his thick fingers pushed all the way inside her, thrusting slowly until she thought she couldn't take it anymore. "Sam, God… fuck… Sam!" She closed her eyes even tighter in the darkness and opened her thighs as wide as she could, tiling upward toward him in less of a suggestion, more of an order. "Please… more…"
He gave one last hard slurp with his demanding mouth before caving to the older woman's orders… he never was one to disappoint. In a smooth motion, he pushed up on his knees and braced his arm under her shoulder as the other hand guided his hard cock against her. "You sure about this?" he asked quietly, teasing the tip against her swollen lips, praying like hell she was sure or he was gonna have one hell of time jerking off with any satisfaction.
She growled low and loud and both sets of nails dug into his ass; "Damn it, Sam…" she hissed between clenched teeth; "If you don't I'll… I'lll…" She didn't have to finish the thought, without further question he guided himself down to her warm opening and thrust hard. All rational guess as to what she would have done was gone as she clenched around him and pulled him down close to her; holding him against her chest before she shuddered and slicked his thighs with her wetness.
Admittedly, Sam had slept with a lot of women… a lot of different kinds of women from the high endurance 'fucking is more like almost killing each other' type to girls that liked to be dominated and flash him pretty eyes while they called him 'daddy' and sucked his dick. Madeline, she was different, just like he thought she would be. She was a soft woman, her body yielding to him and leading him to exactly what she needed without asking questions. He wasn't used to going slow, but for her it was worth every excruciating second as he rocked his hips against her – driving himself deep before pulling out almost completely with each gentle push.
Her breath began to come in ragged gasps between soft cries as Madeline held him even tighter; she hadn't known what to expect in the brief moment she'd thought to expect anything at all, but it was definitely not what she would have expected out of him. Another gentle cry closed her throat and she felt him root hard inside her and give several hard, grinding thrusts. It was long before she could feel his muscles clench and hold… and then the somewhat familiar sensation of warmth spreading inside her as he stilled for a long moment.
"Oh god yes…" he moaned loudly against her ear, pressing awkward kisses to her cheek until he found her lips.
Madeline broke off the kiss and asked; "Did you just? You know…"
"Uh… yeah…" he panted, waiting until the throbbing of his body stopped before slowly withdrawing, stroking his dwindling cock against her in case she wanted to get him going again – sometimes they wanted that. "Gimme a minute and I'll be good to go again…"
"Again?" She sighed, smiling as she caught her breath; "I'm good, Sam… really, I mean… this aint a marathon, sweetie."
He laughed unexpectedly and kissed her again, remembering exactly why he had wanted to try it out with her in the first place… she wasn't like them. With a relieved chuckle, he rolled off of her and onto his back; "Good, because I'm pretty sure I can't top that."
She echoed his relief and turned onto her side to cuddle against him, waiting for him to move away from the tenderness. When he didn't, she said; "I know I can't, and all I did was lay there."
Sam pulled her in closer and nuzzled up to kiss her again, without the intensity of sex but with the lingering desire. "Believe me; you did a lot more than that, Madeline…"