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Lonely is the Night

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     The bunker’s lighting was dim and casting shadows in odd proportions turning Sam and Dean into monsters as they made their way down the winding stairs and into the crow’s nest.  Eileen trailed behind them; her hands clasped tightly against her elbows as she tried to hold in the panic that seemed to be growing with every step she took. The feel of the soles of her shoes connecting with the metal grating of the stair sent little shocks up her legs and into her spine and she flinched, feeling again the vibrations as she squeezed the trigger on the Colt.  Everything had happened so fast and yet in her mind she could watch the bullet as it flew straight and true right at Daigon’s heart.  Then the demon was just gone, and that blonde fop British Men of Letters asshole was the only thing to stop the bullet.  She felt like an overstuffed bag whose seam was about to come undone.

     "Hey, you okay?" Dean asked from the head of the glowing table.

     Eileen nodded yes, of course she was fine.  She wasn’t going to fall apart in front of Dean, in front of… Sam.  She was a hardened hunter!  Tears started to fill her eyes and she realized she had already lost the battle.  She slowly shook her head.

     "No,” she admitted as she saw again the blond man who had found himself on the wrong end of the gun. “He wasn't a monster. He was... I..."  She couldn’t go on and she held herself tighter, if she could just hold the pieces together long enough, she could get through this.

     She felt Sam’s hot palm on her shoulder as he gently turned her to face him.  She tried to look away, to hide the shame in her eyes. She was not weak!

     She focused on his face, impossible to look away as he told her: "It was a mistake."   Eileen couldn’t take her eyes off his hand.  Mistake.  A mistake that had cost a man his life.  HER mistake. She felt the tears spilling over and she lowered her eyes.  The overwhelming need to have someone hold her, to have Sam hold her, came over her and she unclasped her hands from her elbows and pressed herself into his chest.  His arms were quick to wrap her up and hold her against him, and his size made it feel like she was caught in a bear’s hold.  She was smothered and she was safe, and his oven-like body heat began to seep into her weary bones.  Sam pet her hair gently as she tightened her hold on his tree-trunk of a torso, her arms shaking from the strain as she felt the sobs coming in waves.  And he didn’t let her go.  Even when her tears started to soak through his shirt, he held on.  When her fists clung to the flannel on his back, he held on.  When her sobbing made her body shake, he held her together.

     Slowly, she was able to push out the image of the blonde man falling to the ground to a safer, darker corner of her mind, leaving room instead for her to feel comfort and the beginnings of peace in Sam’s arms.  She never wanted the moment to end, but when the last of her tears were finally shed, and she could think again, she pulled away and he let her go, his arms falling to his sides.

     Dean strayed into her peripherals carrying a pizza box in one hand and holding a wedge in his other. Eileen was suddenly relieved to realize that he hadn’t just been standing in the room while she had lost it in Sam’s arms.

      "You guys hungry?” she read on his lips,” I just found some pizza in the fridge. Tastes okay to me."

     Eileen’s nose crinkled in disgust as he bit into the mystery pizza and tore a chunk with difficulty.

     “That crust looks stale,” Eileen said, “I think I’ll pass.”

     “Suit yourself.  Sam?”

     Eileen turned to Sam to see his answer.  She signed “gross” and he responded with a nod of his head. 

     “Yeah, not for me either,” he answered his brother, his gaze going way over her head.  Then, he rolled his eyes and pursed his lips.

     “What is it?” she asked him.

     He looked back down at her.  He hesitated, frowning, but then brought his fist to his forehead tentatively and held out his pinky.  Eileen let out a chuckle.

     “You better not be calling me an idiot.”

     Sam smiled.  “Not you,” he said looking down at her.

     She smiled back at him before turning to glance at Dean where he still stood holding the pizza.  He was watching them like he was watching some infomercial on television and she raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.  Dean nodded once and then shrugged tearing off another chunk of stale pizza with his teeth.  

     “Suit yourselves. More for me!” he said around the overlarge chunk of pizza in his mouth.

     Eileen turned away disgusted.  She hated when people talked with food in their mouths.  Not only did it make it harder for her to understand what they were saying, but also, since that’s where she kept her focus, it was impossible to ignore the chunks of food as it mashed between teeth and twirled around tongues.  He turned on his heel and headed back towards the kitchen, leaving her alone with Sam once more.  She turned back to look up at him and his eyes were instantly locked onto hers with all that intense focus; they practically danced in the low light and not for the first time, she found herself enthralled by the ever-changing hue of his irises.  In this place, right now, they looked like mirrored pools of the Mediterranean that she could drown in if she wasn’t careful. 

     Her light mood dissipated as quickly as it had come on and she felt reality crashing around her once more as she thought about the man who had paid for her inattention with his life.  A mistake Sam had said.  Well she simply could not live with herself if another mistake cost someone else their life…  What if Dean paid the price next time?  What if Sam…?

     A shadow fell over Sam’s face as his eyes went from lighthearted to concerned.  “Are you, okay?” he asked her.

     She could feel his eyes searing her skin red as they scanned her face.  “Yeah. I'm good."

     She took a steadying breath and her hands found their way back to her elbows as she took a careful step back and away from Sam.  His eyebrows twitched in confusion, and he didn’t move to close the distance again.  Eileen could feel the weirdness of the situation as they stood there facing each other. 

     “Um, would it be ok if I take a shower?  Maybe get some sleep, before I go?”

     Sam turned his head to the side a notch, looking more confused than ever, but he recovered quickly.  “Of course.  Let me show you where your room is and then I’ll show you the shower room.”

     He bent down and grabbed the bags that he had carried in from the car and dropped by the foot of the stairs when they had come in.

     “Wait.  Did you just say, “shower room”?  I know you’re big, but do you need a whole room?”  She liked teasing Sam, he always got this shy little grin when she did.  “I bet that’s how you get all the ladies to come home, ‘I’ve got a shower room’.”  She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he frowned without losing that cute grin of his.

     “Yeah, it really helps them get over the b-movie slasher vibe of the front door.”

     “Of course!  Who cares if the outside looks all creepy and forbidding… if you know there’s a whole ROOM to shower in.”

     Sam’s smile turned into the ultimate reward as he chuckled, his lips stretched wide showing his pearly whites.  He held out his arm to the side and she moved in that direction, leading down some steps and then down long white corridors with doors and cross hallways all along.  Sam helped navigate her by tapping on either of her shoulders if he wanted her to turn down any certain hallway. 

     Her eyes scanned and analyzed the new environment, creating an inner map of this new section of the bunker that she had never been in before. On her last visit, they had shown her the entrance and the library, and she had even spied the kitchen off on one side, but time constraints, and the hunt ahead had made any further exploring impossible.  Eileen grew distracted again thinking about how carefully they had planned their strike against the Prince of Hell… and how terribly wrong it had gone.

     Sam’s hand touched her shoulder and rested there as she came to a standstill in front of a wooden door with the Aquarian Star on it; the Men of Letters’ logo.  Sam reached for the knob and pushed open the door revealing a sparsely furnished room: a bed with a lamp sitting on the nightstand, a desk and chair, a table and two more chairs and a dresser.  Next to the door, on the left was a pedestal sink with a mirror cabinet mounted above it.  Her inspection over, she turned to look at Sam again who had put her bag down on one of the chairs and was just watching her, his expression unreadable.

     “It’s not much, but it’s home. If you need anything, I’m right around the corner.”  Sam pointed left outside the door then signed the number 21.

     “Twenty-one,” she said to confirm, and he nodded.

     “Oh! Here,” he suddenly said, pulling the door forward a bit and reaching behind it for something.  He held out a grey bathrobe to her and she took it from him with a nod.  “It’s not a five star stay without a complimentary bathrobe.”

     Eileen felt the smile pull at her lips again and she shook her head, “When do we ever get to stay in five-star hotels?”

     Sam shrugged and then led her back out the room and down another length of hallway until they got to another room. This one though resembled the kind of shower facilities you’d expect to find in a high school gym.  More lights flickered to life and she glanced down the room at the row of shower heads coming out of one wall, and an equal number of sinks and mirrors on the wall on the opposite side.

     She felt Sam’s fingers on her shoulder blade, and she turned towards him again.  “Towels are here.  There’s soap near the showers, shampoo too…  Anything else?”

     “Nope!  Already got my robe,” she said, holding up the grey material before draping it over one of the sinks.

     Sam moved close to her again, laying one of his large hands on her upper arm.  Her eyes were level with his chin, and she found herself focusing on it and the coarse, dark, end-of-the-day scruff starting to grow there.  She found herself wondering how it would feel to smooth her palm along his jaw and into his silky hair.  His chin started to move, and she caught only some of his words as she focused on his mouth again.  “…come get you.”

     “I can make my own way back, Sam. I’m deaf, not blind.”

     Sam nodded, the tips of his hair swaying, and he rubbed her arm gently, giving her bicep a small squeeze.  The heat of his palm felt like it was sinking deeply into her skin, his touch so gentle regardless of his massive proportions.  When he took his hand away and left her to her washing up, the cooler air in the room felt like ice in that spot and she covered it with her own hand, disappointed that the warmth did not spread beyond the layer of skin.

     She waited a minute or two to make sure he wasn’t going to pop back into the room before stripping out of her clothes.  Not that she would mind the tall hunter catching her naked… and wet.  Eileen smiled at her own fanciful foolishness; Sam was a nice guy, but just because he was friendly, didn’t mean he was interested in her in that way.  She moved up to the side of the first of the shower heads and turned the handle to start the water. When the water was the right temperature, she stepped under the cascade, good water pressure, and instantly felt the warmth easing some of the tension in her body.  As she went through her usual post hunt tension relief routine: rolling every joint in her neck, shoulders and back – she saw again the shocked look on the blonde man’s face as the blood blossomed on his chest through his clothing.  She squeezed her eyes shut, but he was still there, as he fell to the ground.  She gasped and sobbed, feeling the breath push out of her silently and she opened her eyes again, hoping to banish the image back to its corner.

     Resigned to the probability that she would be haunted by that memory for some time to come, she reached for the bar of soap and started to lather.  As she ran her soapy hands all over herself, washing away dirt and grime and her feelings of complete failure, her thoughts turned to Sam again.  He was so kind, and so patient with her and at the same time, he didn’t treat her like a fragile little glass figurine. He didn’t treat her like she was… broken… flawed… impaired.  She tried to tell herself again that they were just friends, but she couldn’t help the twist in her lower abdomen whenever her thoughts strayed to the hunter. It was most surprising to her how gentle Sam could be while also being one of the deadliest hunters she’d ever come across.

     His intense focus seared through her again and she found her hands moving more slowly over her body, stretching out the sensation on her skin. She turned her thoughts away from his eyes and found herself thinking about his lips.  She was used to staring at lips, relying mostly on lip reading to communicate with people who weren’t hard of hearing, but when she looked at Sam’s lips, she imagined she could feel him pressing them against her mouth. She gave in to the indulgence now and as she worked to fully imagine the feel of them, she cupped her breast, massaging it as the water continued to beat against her.  Her hands became his hands as she pinched and pulled on a nipple with one and slid the other down her stomach towards her pussy. With the first stroke of her fingers against her clit, she saw his face again as she imagined it would look, his eyes clouded with passion, his mouth hanging open, his chest heaving while she rocked against him. She moved her fingers in quick precise circles, feeling her arousal building towards some sort of release.  Her breathing became heavier and she leaned against the tiles, stroking ever faster.  She imagined the feel of his cock, hard and swollen with his desire, as it pushed inside her and that was all she needed to feel that release.  She gasped against the shower tile and opened her eyes again, the feeling quick to build but also quick to dissipate.

     She suddenly felt very exposed, pleasuring herself in this big open room with hardly even a door for privacy.  Sam or Dean could have walked in at any moment and no words could describe how mortifying that would have been.  Maybe her shower fantasies included a certain tall, handsome, hazel-eyed man, but he had never given her even a hint that his own stray thoughts lurked in her direction. Were he to find her with her fingers working her own clit, it would lead to embarrassment and awkwardness… not sexy times.

     With a disappointed sigh, she turned off the shower and walked over to where she had left her towel.  She quickly dried herself off, rubbing out as much water from her hair as she could, before putting on the grey robe Sam had given her; it was surprisingly soft and nicely warm.  She tied the sash around her waist, the oversized clothing covering her up from her neck down to her calves.

     She made her way through the long corridors, her bare feet retracing her steps from earlier.  With each footfall, a shiver ran up her body; the cold, hard tile hitting the soles of her feet like a thousand sharp blades and each one stabbed her through to the heart with the image of the blonde hair, the smell of the Colt’s gunpowder as it flared and the blood.  Soon she was as cold and shivering as she had been before her shower and clutching her elbows tightly standing in front of the door to the room Sam had brought her to before.

     She looked in through the door she had left ajar at the welcoming glow of light and the waiting bed and all she could think about was how nothing in that room could banish the cold that had wrapped itself around her heart.  Her thoughts pulled at her, reminding her that just around the corner, behind the door marked 21, there was something that could help her – someone.  She bit her lip as she moved away from her door and headed where her mind and feet were taking her.  She spied the light seeping out from under the door and was relieved that for whatever reason, Sam had yet to go to sleep.  She caught herself wondering wistfully if Sam wasn’t still up, waiting for her to take him up on his offer as her host to provide her with anything she needed.  Well, what if what she needed was for him to chase this deep freeze from her bones?  Would he oblige?  What did she have to lose?

     She raised her hand to knock on his door, but hesitated as she considered the possibility that if Sam didn’t reciprocate her desires, and he rejected her advances, what would happen to their friendship?  What would happen to their friendship if she kept these desires a secret?  What might she miss out on if she stayed silent?

     “You’ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind,” she reminded herself as her knuckles rapped gently against the solid wood door.

     She waited for what felt like forever before the door pulled away from its frame and light spilled around the shape of Sam’s tall lean body.  He had shed his boots, socks and plaid shirt and he stood before her in his jeans and a light grey V-neck cotton t-shirt, his feet bare.  Eileen’s heart thumped strongly against her rib cage as she took in the sight of him.

     “Everything okay?” he asked her, a look of surprise on his face as he tucked his hair behind his ear like a reflex.  If he was surprised, then maybe she really had deluded herself into thinking there was a possibility he might want to be with her.

     But that didn’t change the fact that she wanted more, needed more, and if she didn’t ask, how could she know if it was even possible?  She wasn’t a teenager riddled with uncertainty and doubt.  She was a woman, and a hunter, and if she wanted something, she could very well ask for it.

     “I don’t want to be alone, right now.”

     There was a tense moment when Eileen wondered if Sam was going to close the door on her as he stood immobile and looking down at her.  But then the moment passed, and Sam stepped back, opening the door wider and inviting her into his room.  The room looked almost exactly like her own, except the head of the bed was against the wall on the right facing a mounted flat screen.  Every available horizontal surface was covered in research material and strange artifacts, pages of notes and if she had ever been in any doubt about Sam’s work habits, the laptop resting open right on his bed was like a flashing neon sign that read: workaholic.

     Sam scrambled forward suddenly and removed a box from one of the chairs at the small table, dropping it to the ground and out of the way.  Eileen looked at the chair and then right at Sam before turning around and carefully removing some of the papers that were spread out on the bed.  She sat down on the mattress, leaned against the headboard and glanced down at Sam’s chicken scratch of a writing.

     “What are you working on?” she asked him, looking up so she could catch his answer on his lips.

     “Uh, nothing important.  I’m just cataloging the archives and creating a digital repository that hunters can access from a distance.”

     “That sounds… boring, Sam.  I’m sorry,” she said cracking a smile and putting the papers aside on the nightstand.

     Sam gave her a shy smile and bit at his lower lip a moment before walking around the foot of the bed while talking.  She couldn’t catch everything he said, his speech going a mile a minute in his enthusiasm to share his pet project. 

     “The Men of Letters had gathered so much information just in this one bunker, information that can help us out there, all of us.  With this, we wouldn’t have to rely on someone always being here to look up information on how to best hunt or handle a monster.  This is going to help hunters be better, this is going to save lives.”

     Sam had sat down on the bed beside her, picking up his laptop, and was opening page after page and photo after photo of information on all sorts of creatures, and Eileen could not keep up, especially now that she had to interpret everything he said while looking at his profile and glancing at his screen.  “Sam,” she said as she put her hands on his either side of his face turning him to look at her, “too fast,” she told him.

     He was so warm, and firm under her hands, and his scruff was exactly as she had imagined it would feel and she was overwhelmed by his excitement for his project turned intensity as he looked at her, his eyes roving up and down her own face.  She smoothed her thumb on his cheek and Sam leaned into it sending little signals of joy through her system; he wasn’t rejecting her.

     She let her right-hand fall to rest against his clavicle, while her left hand moved upwards and slipped into his hair, the long, soft strands passing between her fingers like delicate tendrils of the softest thread.  Her heart was beating strong and true and she could feel his heart through her palm pounding into her system.  The small hairs on the back of her neck stiffened and she was covered in expectant goosebumps as she leaned in towards him and knew, before her lips connected to his, that he would not turn her away.

     Their lips pressed together, tentatively at first, but quickly adjusting to the rise of passion and crushing together hungrily.  Sam’s hand cupped behind her neck and pulled her closer as his mouth devoured hers with growing intensity.  She felt her body melt with his touch and she moved herself closer to him until their hips were pressed together on the mattress.  Her hand continued to mingle and twist about in his long, silky strands momentarily leaving it to squeeze a muscular shoulder before going right back to it.

     He was holding onto her tightly too, his large hands exploring her upper body; her shoulders, her back, her waist, her hips, but always coming shy of touching her breasts.  He shifted his hips turning more towards her and she started scooting down until she was lying on her back, Sam lying on his hip beside her and tilting his body to hover over hers as he continued to kiss her.  From her new position, she untangled her hand from his hair and smoothed it over his muscular chest, feeling each new set of corded steel wires, memorizing the shape and feel of him under the soft cotton of his shirt.  He shifted again and this time she could feel the press of his body against hers quickly turning the bed into a sauna.

     She felt the need to touch him, just him, without any barriers – just skin on skin and she smoothed her hands down his chest and taught abs to grab hold of the edge of his t-shirt.  She pulled at it, meeting some resistance as she got to his shoulders and Sam reached behind him to yank the fabric over his head, their mouths parting only long enough for the shirt to pass.  Their lips crashed together again hungrily, and Eileen felt the tentative lick of his tongue.  She responded by thrusting hers passed his lips to taste him as they fought for dominance, one over the other.

     Sam’s free hand ran its path down her side again and this time, as he started to move up, his fingers touched the knot that held her robe closed.  He pulled back, his hair falling forward creating a frame around his boyish face with the day-old beard shadow on his jaw, and his eyes scanned hers, searching for permission? Or trying to understand just how far she wanted to go?  Well she was in for the home run and he better believe it.

     “Take it off, Sam,” she told him, giving him what she hoped was a seductive look knowing full well that whatever he was expecting, she knew that she wasn’t wearing a stich under the robe.

     He pulled on the belt knot, undoing it expertly, and looking down at her as he discovered her little secret and she saw his breath as it hitched in his chest and made his Adam’s apple bob.  His eyes rove over her body as she just lay back, letting him move aside the clothing so he could see her fully: every inch of every curve.

     Eileen sat up, letting the robe fall free from her arms as they wrapped themselves around his massive shoulders.  His mouth came down on hers again, harder, hungrier than ever and this time when his hand moved up her bare side, he covered her full breast giving it a gentle squeeze with his huge hand, his thumb just barely brushing over her sensitive nipple turning it to a hard nub and making her sigh into his mouth. The heat of his palms chased away the cold she had been fighting all night, the care and attention of the man who held her in his strong arms – the man she had been craving since the first time their paths had crossed in that retirement home.  He squeezed her again, a little harder and she couldn’t stop the moan from vibrating up through her throat and out through her mouth.

     Sam’s hand gripped her tightly and before she realized his intentions, he had lifted her up and placed her in his lap, her legs astride his hips as he pulled her against him roughly.  His arms wrapped around her, his biceps bulging, trapping her in the only place she wanted to be right now.  She felt the throb in her sex as she rubbed against the crotch of his jeans and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull herself against him harder.

     She could feel the vibrations in Sam’s throat, and she moved her hand to cover the base of his neck so she could feel his moans through her palm.  It was getting hot in the room, but all she wanted was to feel more of him, all of him.  She slammed her mouth onto his again, crushing herself against his hard body as she moaned into his mouth, “I want you, Sam!”

     His mouth pulled away from hers and traced a line of wet kisses down her chin and he nipped at the sensitive skin under her jaw sending shivers through her again.  Each scratch of his teeth and stubble against her skin evoked goosebumps from her bare flesh and sighs escaped her lips beyond her control as she clung to his head.  He gripped her tightly again and rolled them back to the mattress as he settled and pushed against her pelvis.  Unconstrained by their previous position, Sam’s mouth continued to explore every inch of exposed skin, kissing the valley between her breast and nipping at the underside of one while he rolled her nipple between his thumb and finger.  Each kiss brought him closer to her sex while the weight of his body disappeared from her and she rake her fingers through his hair, tugging at him to come back to her mouth while at the same time gasping, her stomach muscles clenching and rolling, the lower he went.

     When she thought she would die if he kept up his sweet torture, she pulled on his hair again, and this time, his mouth began to move back up her body.  His right hand gripped her hip with bruising strength while his left wound itself into her long brown hair and gave it a little tug.  Her scalp tingled, the places where he scratched against her skin tingled, her nipples tingled as they strained for more of his touch and every tingle made her feel like a nuclear reactor was overheating between her legs and all she could do was hold onto him and hope she didn’t fall to pieces.

     He ran his tongue up along the bottom of her breast and enclosed his lips around her sensitive nipple, making her arch her back in response.  He wasn’t coming back to her mouth fast enough and she pulled on his hair until he gave in and pressed his mouth against hers so she could lap at his lips and taste him like he was a sweet dessert to be indulged slowly.  As she focused on the feeling of those lips she had obsessed about so often, and feeling every muscular bump of his anatomy that she could reach, she let out a gasp at the sudden, unexpected feel of his long, nimble fingers as they parted her wet lips and pushed inside her slowly.

    He pulled back from her lips, his sharp, hazel eyes, attentive to her every reaction as he pushed and pulled his fingers, filling her and leaving her at a slow, steady rhythm that left her quaking on the inside.  She gasped when his thumb pressed down on her swollen clit, the movement from his fingers creating just enough friction for her to feel the heat from the nub of sensitive nerves start to spread.  She was gasping as she drew up her knee, letting him push further inside.

     She looked up at Sam’s face, hovering above her from his perch atop is elbow, his hair hanging and swaying with his every move and she clasped her hands behind his neck and dragged him back down towards her mouth.  With a sly smile, he dodged her and settled his lips against the skin of her neck where he sucked and bit and caused another cascade of responding nerves, all of her senses heightened by his assault. 

     Each thrust of his fingers, each tight, fast circle on her clit brought her closer to release and she arched her back as she thrust her hips against his warm palm and she could feel herself coming undone, softly, gently at first but quickly getting overtaken by the wave of ecstasy as she moaned loudly.  Sam clamped his mouth down on hers to muffle the sound as his fingers continued to thrust and tease her through her orgasm.

     She turned her hips as his fingers left her, hooking her leg around his and bringing him forward to rest between her legs again.  She was almost desperately disappointed to realize that he still had his jeans on, and he teased her by pressing himself against her pelvis and she felt the fullness of his cock.  “Oh my God,” she gasped, and Sam bent low again to kiss her.  She tried to reach his belt buckle, all the more desperate to feel him fully embedded inside her, and her fingers shook as she ended up clinging to the leather and pulling on it.  “Take these off,” she told him.  “Now.”

     With a smile, Sam rolled away and stood on the other side of the bed as he undid his belt, button and zipper and pulled down his pants and boxer briefs in one fluid motion.  It was as he straightened up again, his hand stroking himself slowly, that she got a good look at his cock.  She marvelled at his size, both girth and length, as he stimulated himself making it rock hard for her.

     “Please, Sam,” she begged, her pure want and lust for the man making her forget that she loathed begging for anything.  But in that moment, for him, she would do anything. Sam’s careful composure cracked for an instant and she saw in his face a reflection of her desire and it was almost too much to take, to know that he had that much self-control and, in that moment, let it slip, for her.  She sat up on the mattress and reached out for him, inviting him back into her arms and between her legs.  He climbed back onto the bed and his mouth came crashing down against hers in a bruising, passionate kiss.  His hands held her head as he assaulted her mouth with his tongue, thrusting into her, mimicking the previous movements of his fingers.  All she could do was cling to him and she dug her nails into his back.

     She tried to open her legs so he could settle himself between them, but he obstinately stayed where he was, straddling her one leg and pressing against her pelvis with his rock-hard cock.  He rolled away suddenly, pulling away from her mouth and she meant to roll with him, to keep him pressed against her but his hand on her thigh forced her back against the mattress and he held her there.  She squirmed against his hold, desperate for his touch, her desire for him relentless.  She lay her hand on his and guided it back to her pussy so he could weave his magic on her again.

     He lowered his mouth to her chest, keeping his hand steady between her legs, neither moving away nor pushing inside her and she could feel the familiar ache and throb slowly roll back in as she pulsed against the heat of his hand.  He lapped at her hard nipple and the ache was almost too much as it hardened and strained coated in his cooling saliva.  She clasped his wrist in both her hands straining for him to do something, anything.   She welcomed his fingers with a moan and a sigh when finally, he thrust them into her and she closed her eyes tightly, her head thrown back as he stroked her fire again.

     Lost in the feel of him, she didn’t notice as he shifted his position.  His hot breath against her already stimulated clit surprised her and as his tongue flicked the swollen and sensitive nub, she bucked hard.  Her hips raised off the bed and his tongue replaced his fingers as he held her in place in front of his face.  His tongue filled her with every thrust, and he flicked her clit every time he pulled it out again, the rhythm of it making her need more of one or the other and driving her wild.

     Hips and thighs shaking she couldn’t hold herself up anymore and Sam guided her back to press into the mattress, focusing his tongue to swirl around her clit and his lips to suck and his fingers pushed inside her again, moving in and out a little faster with each thrust.  Fingers and mouth worked in unison and her juices mixed with his saliva, the resulting wetness starting to seep into his sheets.  Her gasps became strained moans the closer she got to another release.  The thought of coming against his fingers and tongue shook through her, the idea enough to set her on fire again and when he crooked his fingers inside her and rubbed against a more sensitive spot, she lost all control, gripping the sheets in her tight fists as she came hard.

     Sam wasted no time as he kneeled up and reached for the drawer beside the bed with his long arm and came back with a condom.  Eileen saw her chance as he opened the wrapper, distracted.  She sat up suddenly and wrapped herself around him pulling him down to the bed and rolling at the last minute, finishing with him on his back and her straddling his hips.  His cock was standing proud and erect in front of her and she marvelled again at its size.  She wrapped her hand around it, pumping him slowly the way he had done to himself and Sam’s reaction was instant: his head fell back against his pillows, his eyes squeezed shut.  She soaked in the sight of him all laid out beneath her, his stomach rolling with his quick breaths, his chest hitching, the tendons in his neck straining.  His fingers dug into her thighs hard enough to bruise and she relished it.

     She turned her attention to his straining cock in her hand.  He was perfect, his girth proportioned to his length, standing proud and straight, his head hot and red: engorged with blood, a single pearl of pre-come glistening on the slit just waiting for her mouth and tongue.  She licked him, pressing the flat of her tongue hard against his sensitive head and it was Sam’s turn to buck under her, drawing a chuckle from her throat.  She lowered her head and wrapped her lips around his tip, pulling in her cheeks around him. This time, he kept his hips steady, but his back arched gloriously and as she took in as much of him as she could.  He reached down with his hand and held her hair out of the way.  She looked up the length of him, his cock in her mouth and their eyes met for a moment before he bucked again, his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut.

     It was so hot, Eileen felt herself getting wet again and she knew that this time, they were both desperate for the finale.  She grabbed the half open condom and pulled it out of its open wrapper.  With deft fingers she rolled it down over him.  Sam sat up suddenly and took her face in his hands, slamming his mouth against hers.  She could taste herself on his tongue as they devoured each other once again.  She kneeled up, lining up his cock with her wet slit, her juices almost dripping with anticipation of the feel of him.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her, those beautiful eyes, so cool one minute and the next invoking the wrath of God himself, and now looking at her alight with lust and desire.

     His mouth locked with hers again and she lowered herself slowly, feeling his cock pushing against her lips and pressing against her opening.  For an impossible second she almost thought that maybe he wouldn’t fit, and then he was past the initial resistance and she stretched around him as she sank down his shaft with an ecstatic cry.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly and held her there against his chest as she adjusted to him.  He kissed her slowly, sweetly, sweeping the hair out of her face as he loosened his grip on her body.  She rocked against him slowly, moving up and down, feeling him sink a little deeper into her and sending shocks throughout her overstimulated nervous system.

     His name fell silently from her lips as she moved again, the incredible feeling of being so completely stretched and filled with him beyond what she had imagined in her most lustful dreams.  She rested her hand at the base of his throat again as she moved, and she felt his moans vibrate through her again setting off another lustful cry from her own throat.  When she looked at him again, his face and shoulders were beaded with sweat as he tried to hold tight onto his control.  She raised herself higher and sank down lower again and his eyes squeezed shut, another moan vibrating through his vocal chords.  She increased her pace, encouraged by his facial expressions and soon his hips were bucking up as she came down on him.

     She could feel her own control begin to slip as she followed her growing desire to come around him again, to feel him buried so deeply inside while she squeezed him tightly.  Her eyes were closed as she focused on trying to keep up her pace and Sam kissed her slowly again drawing her back to him.  She opened her eyes and he rolled them to the side, laying between her legs again, this time buried inside her.  He took over the pace as he pulled back and pushed in, controlling his thrust as her eyes rolled into her head from the feel of him.  She felt his hand on her face and she opened her eyes again.  “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” she read off his lips.  She nodded and he hooked her leg around his arm and pushed into her a little harder.

     “Oh God!” she cried out, the feel of him just out of this world.  She never wanted this to end, but she felt him slow down.  She opened her eyes again and looked right at him as she told him firmly: “More.”

     His breath hitched and he grabbed her hips as he angled her for his thrusts and he pushed and pulled, faster and faster, thrusting into her without further hesitation as she cried out his name, feeling it scraping her throat raw.  He released her hips and rocked forward, bracing himself above her with his arms as he thrust into her wildly, his careful control gone as he neared his own climax.  He looked like he was close, and in that moment, Eileen wanted nothing in the world more than to have her orgasm trigger his and so she slipped her hand between their sweat-slicked bodies and pressed her fingers against her clit letting their rocking hips create the necessary friction.  Everything already being so raw and overstimulated, it only took a few thrusts of Sam’s cock and she felt herself tip over the edge into bliss, everything but that feeling just falling away and she tightened herself around him, wrapping her legs around his still thrusting hips as he too came with a gasp and a groan against her ear and he collapsed against her, his head resting on her collarbone.

     Slowly, Eileen’s heart rate slowed back to normal and she brought her hands up to Sam’s now still head.  She ran her fingers though his hair gently, careful not to snag any tangles.  Her mind drifted once again to the day’s events and this time her mind was clear.  She knew what she needed to do.  She bit at her lip contemplating getting through the hardest part and she absently bent down and kissed Sam’s forehead.  She licked her lips; salt and just… him lingering on her tongue.  She breathed in deeply, content to hold him in her arms as long as she could.  With a rumble in his throat, he rolled over to the other side of the bed.  His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh, satisfaction smeared across his face and she watched as he rubbed at his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes feasting on her still naked form.  He smiled, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.  It was time.

     She sat up and dropped her legs over the edge of the mattress, bending down to grab the discarded grey robe.  She draped it on herself as she stood up, pulling her long hair out of the collar before quickly tying the belt in a knot.  Without looking back at him for fear that she would change her mind, Eileen took quick steps to reach the door.  As she put her hand on the knob, she felt Sam’s long fingers wrap themselves firmly around her hand, drawing her back to him after all.  She turned to look at him as he stood before her, noting that he had slipped his boxers back on.  His eyes were sad, pleading.  Sam was always clever.

     “Stay,” he told her, his hand emphasizing his word by signing it.  “Stay with me.”

     His eyes bore into her as he waited for her answer.  She looked away, unable to meet his gaze for long.  She shook her head.  “Would you, Sam?  If it was you, they were hunting down, would you stay and put me at risk?”

     Sam shook his head left to right, “No!  We can protect you… here… I can…”

     “Sam,” she whispered as she brought her hand up to his cheek and cradled him in her palm.  She pulled herself up even as Sam bent down and their lips met in the middle in a long, sweet, goodbye kiss.  She pulled her hand out of his loosened grip and “Till we meet again” was spoken though the room remained silent.  Sam grabbed her signing hands and held her closed fists in his, holding them against his mouth a moment as he kissed each one.  She gently slipped her hands from his grasp and he took a step back.

     She silently slipped out the door, the quiet whispering sound of her feet on the hallway tile as she walked away something that would haunt Sam for years to come.