- Chapter Sixty-Three -

(Almost) All Things Exposed

[Warning: explicit content]

Well that certainly caught her attention.

Infuriated to the point that outraged indignation was the drug, Daniella's deep blue blood was boiling more than she would have ever thought possible. The unmitigated nerve of him! To not only say such a thing, but threaten to withhold precious information...! Urgh, it just... it just made her want to hit something! To bash, mash, crash, and pummel! To take the lighter to the house and block all the exits!

More tangible than a whisper in this scarlet blood lust, the heiress could hear her late father's voice in her ear, encouraging his daughter to succumb to black tendencies. "You're an Adler. We act, we don't just lay down and take it."

Had that actually been something that her father had said to her? A vindictive word of wisdom to the next generation? Frankly too burnt up to even attempt to recollect every single conversation they had ever shared, Daniella couldn't remember for sure. Although seeing as she had already let down the woman that was formerly known as her mother, the heiress had to try to appease at least one of her parents in this life. How else could she prove that she was a good daughter?

"Are you kidding me? I just finished telling you how much I think of you, and then you tease me with something that important? Seriously, fuck you!" Anger a blinding vermilion light that erased the polished veneer down to its darker roots, the madder Dells got the fouler her language became.

Now there was the Rafe Adler that Sam had known, a bitter bastard that wasn't nearly as refined as his money would let you believe. "That an offer?"

"Fuck off." Uneven nostrils flaring, that wasn't a refusal.

Buttons just begging to be pressed, it was impossible to not push every single one on the panel. Even if some of them where only up there for display. "Geez, someone's cranky. You need to get more vitamin D."

Scowl not disappointing, the young woman glared at the man, hating everything about him, from that stupid cocky smirk to the graying auburn locks that she wanted to run her fingers through even now. Punishing herself for entertaining that kind of thought for even a second, she crossed her arms around her chest, fingers tucked away beneath her elbows. "I'm not cranky! You're just a dick."

Fueled by the desire to stay angry, had he not irritated her so much, she might have at least felt torn between sullen rage and getting those answers. But no, the jerk had to go and get under her skin in all the worst ways, burrowing deep. So deep...

Legitimately getting a kick out of how riled up she was getting, the red on her collar couldn't have been any more obvious. But fun as it was watching her be pissed off at every tiny thing, he knew from experience how much it bit the big one to be hungover and a ball of fury. For her own good, he made his first actual threat, "Don't make me put you back to bed, little girl."

"I'd like to see you try." Leer souring, Dells clearly doubted him.

She must have forgotten about that time he had made her breakfast in bed. Turning off the TV to make a point, Sam gave her a chance to behave, quietly observing her reaction. Seething just because she could, the girl fumbled for the remote in his hand, digits clumsy as they completely missed the plastic rectangle. Honestly not all that shocked she blew it, he rolled to his feet and stalked to the end of the bed.

"Hey!" Green around the gills, Daniella squealed as the thief grabbed her by the ankles and yanked her all the way down so that she was laying flat on her back. Like a tortoise trapped on its shell, the crabby heiress squirmed helplessly as the predator descended. "Whatta think you're doing?!"

Ignoring the marshmallow blows of the young woman as she fused around, he proceeded to reach for the bandages on the end table. Stretching over the heiress, as the space between them whittled down to nothing, the adventurer intentionally brushed against her, "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

Words turned back on her, Dells paused for just a fraction of a minute. Just long enough for him to tug at the hem of her pants so that he could change out the Ace. Long enough for him to get the cotton pajamas down her hips. And long enough for him to realize that when she had removed the damp clothes from her daughter, Bai hadn't replaced her underwear.

No pink satin bows, no double black strands, no baby blue lace, white fields or red floss; there was nothing there to keep prying eyes at bay or wandering fingers away... Her own, or someone else's... Temptation a genuine affliction, it would be lying to say that he didn't regret starting from the bottom.

None the wiser as to why Sam was suddenly staring at her the thirsty way he was, all it took to understand was to follow his gaze down, over the expanse of the butterfly cage that was her stomach. Crawling lower still, to the point between her legs. Flushing at being the center of attention, as her heart beat in conjunction with her head she couldn't help but ask herself if this had been his intention the entire time.

Again, she found herself torn at the crossroads. On one hand, he was dangerously close to her, and there was more blood flowing than she knew what to do with. On the other, there was still that pesky sensation of nausea hanging over her head. Yet, they were so close, so deliciously, perfectly, perversely close...

You're an Adler. We act, we don't just lay down and take it. Take that last bit off, and it sounded like some great advice.

Figuring that it wasn't for her to question her Father's wisdom, Dells kissed Sam; deeply, wildly, the way she'd been dreaming of. Unable to keep her hands to herself all morning, as innocent as it had seemed the snaking of her arms and even the jitters in her legs suddenly made sense. It had been building in the background, hiding just behind the red curtains in her mind. Curling up against him sober was nice, but this... It felt good. And she wanted to feel good.

Logic a concept too highbrow for the moment, the healthy part of the heiress knew that she should pursue the truth he had teased, but what if she didn't care for the answer? Or what if it was some life-changing thing that she should be focused on? No, there were too many questions. It was simpler to just feel. Feel him against her, their bodies against one another. His leg between hers as he crawled back onto the bed. On top of her.

Sam didn't mean to end up in this position, he really didn't. Gaze all but zeroed in on a whole island paradise ripe for the plundering, the song in his blood had been stirred by the treasure map falling into his possession. Finding unlikely inspiration in the thigh rubbing up against him, all hope of resistance died when she kissed him. Bandage falling out of his hand and rolling to the floor, intention didn't have much more to do with it.

"Dells," name barely escaping in a pant, the girl was determined to suck the very air from his breast, "hold your horses."

Hanging in there like a pest that just wouldn't die no matter how many chemicals you used or number of times you tried, his conscience told him that this was the last stop on the the road to the point of no return. She wasn't well, and he still had serious business to hash out with the daughter of his ex-partner. So then why do I want to ravish her?

Persistent as that final shred of decency, Daniella was that combination of fire and hurt that he knew so well. "Don't you want me?"

Sweet Jesus, the thief could barely remember a time he wanted anything more. And that was before the heiress had found his joystick, hands no more graceful than usual as she stroked the tented polyester. Think of her health. Think about her health. Don't think about how good he felt underneath the fabric... Think about her well being. "Stop."

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was starting to get the answer her dark little heart desired. Sickly deriving pleasure from his torment, the young woman grinned evilly, "Do you really mean that?"

God, no. The evidence was in her hand that this was very much what he wanted, and it was only getting harder, "Baby girl..." Too many things at once, the one thing his plea wasn't was him telling her to back off. He'd tried that already.

"Let's finish what we started, shall we?" Stroking the growing outline of his cock, the not-so-innocent heiress wrote some very large checks with the ravenous glint in her eyes. Checks that she might not be able to pay in a single night.

Relenting to the fact that this was going to happen tonight if for no other reason than because she willed it so, that sounded more than fine in his book. Trouble was, this really wasn't the time or place to resume their hate-fuck. "I don't know if the bed can take that kind of abuse again."

"Bed?" Freezing as if the extension ceased to compute, the heiress arched her brow in confusion, "I'm talking about the beach... When did we...? Oh." So they had found the time to have another go? Curious to know what that had been like (she'd try and recall it later, if she could), Daniella wondered briefly if that had anything to do with what he had told her mother and why she had left?

Screw it. Melting her core from within, the burning in her belly was too hot for slowing down now. They could deal with that later if need be. For now, she needed him inside her. "Fuck me. Give me some of that vitamin D." In truth he'd probably meant the actual vitamin, but again, something to pin for later.

Well shit. At least she took that better than he'd imagined she would. Maybe the key was to sex her up every time had to break bad news. Only half joking about that, Sam ended his idle streak, moving his own hand up to her lips. Still cracked and flaking off, he drew circles over top of the skin, noting that she was going slower than before when sucking his index into her mouth. Made sense he'd have to take it extra easy on the girl, between the hangover and shaking off that white mantle.

Tongue working overtime, she hoovered the busted joints until the tip was scratching the back of her throat and his knuckle was palm-to-palm with her lips. Sufficiently greased up sooner rather than later, the young plaything retreated enough to add in a second digit. Saliva lubricating the middle finger as well, Dells maintained steady eye contact with Sam, using him once more as her anchor point.

Pads toughened by years of climbing, the thief's fingers were different from anything the pampered princess was used to; using this to his advantage, while she did the honors of preparing the troops for invasion, the leftover grunts carried out the ground work. Covering the outside of her mound, Sam cased her slit and ran parallel to the outer folds, flicking the bundle of nerves at the top of the cave. Indeed in want of him, she shivered into his touch, jerking as he searched the inner folds.

"Mm, it feels like I've been sitting on this since that night." Last night, was it? Oh, who the hell cared when her body was tingling the way it was. It was even helping to keep her mind off of how badly her head was throbbing. The little aches of every square of flesh and bone.

Once more in control of his right hand, Sam exchanged the prep team for the deep divers. "Just relax baby girl, I got ya." Lightly smacking her hand away when she got to the final two buttons on her shirt, his smirk told her that he rather liked the sight of her half-dressed. Getting the hint, she laid back and let his fingers probe away. "Then we can call you four for four."

Four for four? "Jesus, Sam, how many times did we do it?"

Did she mean in total, or just when she was completely shitfaced? Because either way the answer wasn't all that high. "Just the once. Call me crazy, but I draw the line at unconscious."

Trusting him (more or less) in all the ways that mattered most, hearing that made her feel a little bit better about that much at least. "So this will be be three..." Unless her math skills had completely abandoned her, the heiress would have to take his word about that sound time. "Three for four."

Was she doubting his word? Fair enough, given who he was and what he did. "Pretty sure you enjoyed our nooner." Absolutely preening with pride, the convict was confident in that fact.

"I'm actually giving you the benefit of the doubt on that count." Innocent until proven guilty, right? "I'm referring our-" Daniella caught herself, half stumbling over her own words and half because his ministrations had gotten more vigorous, "-my first time."

Genuinely unsure what she was talking about, Sam made up for it by foxtrotting trough fuzzy fields of soft magenta and bubblegum. Nail tapping a steady pattern into the outermost walls of her womanhood, as the flood came he worked his way deeper, targeting the deepest reaches of her core. Stopping just shy of sending shock waves through her system, enough was enough; he wanted to make a point. "What are you talking about, Dells? You came."

For just a small moment, her mind shifted back to Elena and the advice she had given. 'Sam... he's not always easy, but he's one of the good ones'. He really was. "Only before I got you out of your jeans."

This was certainly news to him. "I thought..."

Blushing so hard that her cheeks stood out in the electric glow from the TV, the girl shook her platinum locks. "Nope." Little too hard on the 'p', but for good reason. "But I was kinda hoping that we could always try again." And again, and again, and again. As many times as it took to get her fill of him. You know, I might just have an issue...

Did he know that she was fostering this crime of lust? Young libido, a virgin's curiosity to try it all, a family history of insatiable appetite? Left unstated, it was an untapped recipe for disaster. And she prayed to whatever god or spirit or dead ancestor that was listening that Sam fed the beast. Fuck, he was just so...

"I'll bet you were." Definition of sexy, daddy or whatever the current hot porn meme was today, he snorted. So sure of himself. Cocky prick.

Good.

Unamused by his assurance on the outside, the cranky monster within pouted. "Dick."

"Oh," laugh all at her expense, the man found a pace that kept her breathless and him in charge, "don't you worry about that baby girl. That's coming."

Moan escaping her lips in a watery burble, Dells was starting to really feel it in her core, that shameless profanity eking around every syllable to dance across her tongue. In truth, the way her body was reacting to his touch, it was hard to take her seriously through the guttural purr, "At least something will be."

Pausing just to make her suffer, Sam fixed her with a stern look. "Baby girl, I will spank you."

Tempting as that sounded, she wasn't sure she could take that on top of how great he felt fingering her the way he was. To be crass about it, she wasn't sure her pussy had ever felt better, and she'd masturbated more than enough times to know. Although, there was one time that had been particularly memorable... "Maybe next time."

And people called him cocky. "Next time? What makes you so sure there'll be one?"

Shutting him up and refusing to answer in one go, she deflected the question by pulling him in for another kiss. That lingering taste of nicotine was undeniably gross, yet at the same time it was something she could get used to, if it meant that she got more moments like this. He could say the same about her, only change out the smoking for drinking and every pitfall that came with it.

Kissing her back in earnest, Sam crept deeper into her core, hitting the dripping deep until his knuckles could taste the edge of her clitoris. Rendering the young woman positively speechless when the pace ramped up, he smirked, "Really, I'm flattered that you can't keep your hands off me."

If Daniella had been blushing before, it was nothing on how beet-red her face had just gone. Tapping into that primal urge was one thing, but an actual compliment? Eww.

Chuckle vibrating from his lips to hers, Sam had devious plans for this one. "Just so you know, this is what real teasing looks like." Bending her leg up and over his shoulder, he pushed harder and faster than before, grinning as she thrilled. Dells sounded good writhing in the sheets, but she would sound even better cumming.

Trail of spit breaking between them as he backed up enough to get a grander sense of the full picture, he couldn't quite shake the revelation that she hadn't enjoyed herself as much as he had. For the sake of his own ego, he wanted to change that. Hovering over her body just long enough to catch her stealing what she hoped to be a covert glance, the adventurer roamed south. Humming an old tune from when he had been a teen himself, as he pecked at her lower lips, Sam was visited by the semi-tangible ghost of a memory.

Daniella had been so tight that first time - and the second, and probably would remain that way for a long time to come - so he had had a notion. It was simple really, thinking that any extra lubrication would be a good thing. And being dehydrated, cranky, and generally hungover, a hot shower might warm up any aches that might be plaguing her mortal form. "Wanna take this to the bathroom?"

Catching his drift after a long moment, the heiress really didn't care one way or another. Everything was great where it was, her body in as comfortable position as it was like to get on the bed, and as an added bonus, there was a slim chance that she might even get to take a little nap after without looking like too much of a monster. Hopefully without another nightmare. Although if he was willing to do all the work of transporting her weary body, fine.

"On one condition." Those could have been the family words, once.

Mind wired into that dirty place, he was intrigued, "Oh? Do tell what Sleeping Beauty wants."

Initially she was just going to stipulate that he carry her to and fro, however it dawned on her that this was a real opportunity. "Ok, maybe more than just the one." Pulling up on an elbow, she ran her fingers through the oily tangle of pale gold sprouting from her head. "We seriously have to wash my hair. It smells like puke and that's not helping my stomach."

Funny, he agreed a little too quickly, "I was trying not to say anything about that."

She would have called him an ass for that, but he would probably take that as an invitation. "And you have to carry me."

Didn't he always? Serious enough, Sam deadpanned, airing one of his few grievances, "You're gonna be the death of my poor back."

That, or she was going to give him a heart attack in the funnest possible way. "We'll see about that."

His turn to pout, the man frowned at his cruel lover, "You're so mean to me." Sighing as if accepting that it was just a family trait, Sam traced the side of her face before climbing off of the bed, off of her, "You know, if you seriously think there's gonna be more of this in the future, you're gonna have to start to think of better demands, princess."

"I said there was more to come." Grumbling under her breath, she had to question if he even heard her.

Oh, he heard her alright - it was just fun to twist her knickers all up in a bunch. Groaning at her weight to illicit guilt from the perpetually guilty, Sam scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the bathroom. Setting her royal highness on the counter once more, while he made himself useful flipping the lights on, shutting the door to keep the steam in, and starting the water, she made herself more comfortable.

"One scalding hot shower, coming right up." Even before things had escalated to this place, Sam had learned that the heiress was all about showers that could boil your skin off within mere moments.

Dropping her button-up to the cool tile like they did in the movies, she looked at him with unbridled mischief in her bright eyes. "Come here."

Everything else on the back burner, Daniella started with the drawstring of his sweatpants, eyeing the morsel before her with unquenchable hunger. Biting her lower lip, it was half to fight the wave of nausea and half in appreciation of what she found. This was hardly the only time in her life she'd gotten horny during a hangover, but it was the first time she'd had a living, breathing partner to do anything with.

"Allow me." No longer burdened by restrictions such as clothes, Sleeping Beauty wanted to return the favor and make her brave hero feel even half so good as he did for her.

Gingerly grasping the one mast she wouldn't terribly mind being tied to, the pseudo-blonde slid her five prehensile limbs across his length, using the pre-cum coating the tip as lubricant. Thumb dragging along just over the top of the prominent vein, her nails smoothed the shaft with a soft scrapping-tickle that wasn't entirely awful. Friction more than making up for the brunt of the downside, hand jobs weren't the heiress's strongest suit, but he would be amenable to teaching her a thing or two.

Virtually absent-minded with her attention elsewhere, the heiress's other hand was doodling faint designs along his cut abdomen, getting caught for a moment in his happy trail. Serpentine, her fingers eventually broke free, exploring the jut of his hipbone and every other inch of available space, all the way down to the very bottom. Twitching ever so slightly when she stopped focusing exclusively on the shaft and migrated to the bulbous tip, Sam let out a low moan when the massage made the journey from head to sack. Baby girl was definitely eager to please.

Head back to the ceiling to enjoy the smooth-ish, polishing rhythm of her arm, the only time he moved was to stop her when he joined her at the edge. "Wait." Hand snapping to her wrist once more, he caught the woman mid-stroke.

Wide and curious, she stared at him, not quite at eye level from her perch on the counter top. Did he somehow think it was a good idea to shower with a shirt on? Anyways, why stop her now? Steam drifting up around them in the cramped space, if they stayed like this much longer, everything was going to get horribly waterlogged. And after what she imagined could have transpired with her mother, she might not be good for covering the damages.

"This ain't the only damage." Accent grim and therefore sending a different kind of shiver down her spine, he pointed to his face, the mark faded but still clinging to the surface. A reminder that it was never safe to get involved with an Adler.

Mauve, puce, and bringing a fresh wave of remorse over her unfortunate blackout, she tried to apologize, "Sam, I'm-"

"Save it." Waving the girl off almost preemptively, the man let her know that he wasn't blaming her for this, merely warning her of what she might see. "You didn't know what you were doing."

The same could be said of this entire experience. Frowning deep as she struggled to find something to say, he gently brought his hand to the side of her head, petting the yellowed mess almost fondly. Smirking as if he'd just thought of some inside joke, he lightly shook his own head. "You know, I don't know if you earned it yet."

Lost, she gazed at the compass.

Once more he laughed openly at her expense, getting under those frazzled nerves of hers. "My tattoos. Gonna be hard to hide them from you now."

Duh. Chuckling a little in spite of her condition, the young thing watched in revered awe as he did the honors and peeled off his shirt. Far worse than what was on his cheek, her mirth quickly dried to ashes in her mouth when she honed in on the large, discolored splotch on his torso.

Almost a natural born nurse, she ghosted her hand along the traces of abuse, "Does it hurt?"

"Nah." Daniella couldn't tell if he was being brave or being honest, so to test that theory she pulled him close and kissed the bruise. Tender, chaste almost, as if he were the fragile one made of glass. Gaze lost on every other part of the patient, if he winced, she missed it.

"How 'bout you, baby girl?" Shaking the spotlight like a champion, the ex-con pulled the heiress on stage to take his place in the limelight. Although that wasn't to say that he'd been completely malicious about it; for better or for worse, it couldn't be denied that he he did actually care about the girl. "How you holdin' up?"

Cranking the rock-solid yank once more with little enough investment this time, the part of her that wasn't raring to go looked at the man in a separate window of honesty. The obvious answer was 'fine', but how could anybody living through a hangover even begin to think that word?

Taking away everything that she had gone through before today, every last inch ached, throbbed, felt stiff or just out of place. The nightmare was still lingering in some nearby crevice in her mind, as was the fear. The fear of losing Sam, the fear of being alone, of being prey to Angel and Ashley once more. This... this didn't feel wrong, but she knew deep down that it was only a distraction. A way to forget the pain, displace the bad thoughts, quiet that surge that always seemed to bring her back to her glorified body guard. And above all it was a means to distance herself from the delusion that the impossible might happen. This was just a job, and at best all Sam would ever be was a cross between a surrogate father and a friend with benefits...

"As well as can be expected." Searching for any sort of easy out, Daniella hastily scanned the room, coming back to her own sorry state. "And a little overdressed for the occasion."

Honoring her cue, Sam laughed, "Indeed you are. Let's see if we can do something about that, my dear."

My dear. Her stomach flopped off the diving board just then, and the heiress was pretty damn sure that the timing wasn't fully coincidental. Must you make it so hard? Grinning and bearing the secrets in her heart just as she'd been taught, Dells forced a smile that she didn't really feel.

While that routine was hardly anything new, faking it wasn't enough. There was more buried beneath the rippling surface, however she wasn't entirely sure how to express the remainder, so there was only one thing to say, "Thanks." Despite following a white lie, there was more packed into that one single word than in the sum of the rest.

Bandages still tied tight to keep Sally's parts in place, he pulled at the thread that unraveled them. In as sensual a way as could be managed, there was something in the way that Sam pulled, yanked, and let the rolls slip down. Lips grazing the exposed skin below, he gradually found his way back north, traveling to a pink cave yearning to be explored. A natural born explorer by both blood and profession, he was practically obligated to follow the imaginary noise of running water. Lapping up the light leak that had sprung at the entrance, he plunged his tongue in with bold daring.

"Oh, God!" Not yet at the ultimate edge, his renewed exploration was definitely benefited from their new position. Wrapping one leg around his head, her fingers threaded into his hair, nails digging into his scalp the further in he went.

Backing up slowly, he removed his lips from her ocarina, giving her inner thigh a smart tap, "No, I'm Sam. But if you wanna give me that kind of credit, I guess I could accept the title with a small g. Kinda like this one here." As if he'd known where it had been the entire time, his fingers suddenly thrust back inside of her and found the exact mark, his mouth humming over every nerve in her body.

"Now! Fuck me." Words jumbled on her tongue as she struggled to keep everything together, Dells was certain of only one thing.

Following his dick to greener stars, he inhaled the scent of adventure, delving into what was waiting to be his. Running his hands along her slit once more to make sure she was ready for what was to come, Sam picked the off-white lady up and carried her into the shower. Legs folded tight around his waist and aroused organ pressing against his full erection, there was just barely room to close the shower door.

Pinned between Sam and the wall, they couldn't keep their mouths off another as the scalding water poured overhead. Wheezing as a dry heave filled the contents of her lungs, by the time the hacking spell was over, he had her spun around so that if she did vomit, it would be less likely to get on him. Rubbing his cock behind her just on the outside of her delectable folds, Sam slowly eased himself into the heiress once the water had done its job to moisten the area.

So tight, he could only think of one thing as all the pressure came crashing down at once, her muscles squeezing him with sweet, sweet, eagerness. Manhood more than ready to pierce into her core with a savage fury, he held himself motionless as his partner adjusted. Spread so wide, even with the water running down her back and legs from slumped shoulders, it was hardly enough to acclimate. The position helped a bit too, however not nearly enough for either of their liking. They both wanted it so badly, so intensely, it felt like their entire bodies had began to tremble in anticipation.

Once given the green light, Sam kept his movement slow and steady for her sake, even though it was a Herculean task to keep himself from tearing into her like he so desperately wanted to. "Dells..." Name a strangled grunt, he couldn't speak if he wanted to keep a semblance of control over the rocking of his hips. But that was fine. This time.

Hand so tight around his that her nails were digging into his flesh, she was grateful for the stillness as her body accepted him, the girth just a little too much. Was this what it felt like to cross the gates of heaven? The pain of shedding the mortal coil, followed by that buzz that was second to none?

"Oh, fuck..." Feeling it inside, far into a depth that couldn't be reached by the usual means, the heiress arched her back into the thief. Everything was sore in some way or other, but damn if this wasn't the good kind. Hips falling into a rhythm as they moved in sync with one another, a part of her lamented that she wasn't up to grinding him into submission. "Sam... Mmm, Sam..."

Back and forth they went, her saying his name like that an aphrodisiac on the top of the strawberry cake. Nibbling her unpierced earlobe, his hands roamed all across her waist until they found something better on her chest. Pawing the perk little peaks to the point that she was practically screaming his name, one of his hands had grown restless and traveled down south. Adamant that she end the night on a high and start the new day satisfied, he kept going, even after her cries had started to border on the obnoxious (for the neighbors).

Whimpering at max volume around the two fingers he had hooked into her mouth, he could tell that he was getting her close to her tipping point.

"Oh, Sam..." At this point in time, even standing up was a major chore, but she could she say that she was even on her feet when her legs felt like they had given out?

Slippery when wet more than apt, the heiress reached back, craning her neck to kiss him where ever she could reach. Plush, what started as feathers and butterflies soon became more erratic, her lips tracing the stubble of his jawline and smothering one of the four birds. Everything felt so right, so good, that just for a moment even the throbbing in her head and bones had lessened.

Liquid fire burning brighter than the melting heat radiating below, the nearer the couple edged to the verge of complete oblivion, the harder it was to remain in control. For Daniella, that meant succumbing to the foul roiling in her intestines; Sam's struggle was more metaphysical in nature, coming at the expense of his young partner. The more she thrummed in time to the beat, the more he had felt the need to follow, bucking wildly to overcompensate for the age gap, to remind Adler who it was that was really in charge, to claim what wanted to be owned.

Too much, it was all getting to be too much.

Hating every second of what her stomach was doing to her, the rich man's daughter found herself with her head between her knees. As one of the remedies she heard most often, it only made sense to give the motion a try. Frankly, it didn't feel like it changed much, and things were moving so quickly behind her that it hurt her eyes to try and keep up. Pleasantly warm, the hand on her back was actually rather comforting, a balm to an otherwise shitty day.

Falling away from him, the suave adventurer clung on to her arm, fingers like vices that were probably going to leave even more marks on the morrow. What was another bruise when she had already been doomed to an immediate future of nothing but sweaters? Every breathy moan only served to spur him on, his hand once more making tracks from her bouncing breasts to her side, slipping further. Catching a hold of her shoulder, somehow or other he had made it to the middle of her back, pressing her forward.

"You like this, baby girl?" Going just a little harder where he got the best reaction, he could feel that his own limit was near its zenith. Only a tiny bit more, one more contraction of her core or the smallest taste of that highest peak, and he would pull out and finish her off. Just a little more...

Pleasure overriding sense, it was difficult to say what happened first: the spewing of pea soup that sent Dells to her knees in the small space, or the pulsating wash of pure white that briefly exposed the blissful gates of nirvana. Cumming as she vomited the contents of her stomach, Daniella half threw herself to the floor and half fell of his dick as her legs actually did fail. Going down with an audible, suctioning plop, everything happened so quick that she didn't immediately realize that her partner had also found relief. Sticky, white relief, gushing out in a thick rope across her back and into her hair.

Semen collecting in the dip of her back and slowly dribbling down the curve of her ass, there was a winding path between Daniella's shoulder blades and congealing between the heart-shaped crack. Coating the young woman as if she'd begged for it, his first reaction was not to tend to the convulsing mess at his feet but to see to his own needs, milking out everything he had. Which, after being so well cared for these last seventy-two hours, was not a whole lot. But it was still enough.

Afterglow too bright to really bitch about anything (just yet), she shuddered on the floor, trying not to imagine what her back looked like. Possibly one of the original Jackson Pollock pieces in the gallery, or worse. Lucky for all parties that she was already in the shower and had intended to get cleaned up anyways.

Running a hand along her sex while she was still on her knees - yakking up what had been saltines - the heiress found that he had started a hair sooner than previously believed.

Good on his word, Sam stayed to help her get cleaned up, scrubbing her back until it was red and washing her hair until it smelled like nothing but hotel soap. She wasn't so selfish as to not return the favor, cleaning as many places as she could in a secret scavenger hunt for his tattoos. Looking at every one of them in turn, she inquired about their stories. Because most ink had a purpose.

"This one?"

The answer she'd gotten was usually prison, however the one she'd indicated had been due to a lost bet, a very specific thing on a random spot on his leg. Lingering on the murder of birds she so favored, Dells showed him something that he hadn't noticed before in the poor lighting. Pitch black it was small enough line of script, a humble tribute to her father; under the breast and curved around the back along the top of a rib, it had been intentionally placed somewhere her mother would be unlikely to ever see.

Of course it came back around to Rafe.

Once the pair were squeaky clean and their bodies had been laid bare before the other, it really was time to put his baby girl to bed. Cuddling close for one reason or another, by the time the fluffy towels came out and everything had been dried off, her eyes were already closed.

Unsurprisingly, the last sensible thing he caught coming out of her mouth was, "Tell me. Tell me about... my..." Yawning too big for her jaw, Daniella was out like a light.

Author's Note:

The term "following his dick to greener stars" came to me the other day (on the second anniversary to be exact) when I was marathoning the Lion King trilogy. More specifically, during the second (AND BEST), when Kovu was falling for Kiara. It's a kind of mistake/play on the phrase "greener pastures".

Also, I'm so mature, taking the high road. Not.