"I'm glad you're okay" but said by someone who has just had the shit beaten out of them, to someone who is not hurt at all, is a brilliant trope and I lose my mind every time.
Prompt: From @dailyau - We’re ending an affair, but neither of us is ready to stop it.
Pairing: Samuel Drake x Reader
Warnings: Smut, cheating.
A/N: I’ve been in my Sam feels a lot and this prompt just spoke to me. It is a one-shot, but I do have ideas for part 2… if anyone is interested.
Being in Sam’s bed, albeit the ultimate betrayal, is your favorite place to be. His body is so warm and strong wrapped around you, molding in a delicious rhythm against your own. His Earthly scent penetrates your skin and as your tongues roll against each other’s, you can taste the lingering essence of tobacco and cheap alcohol. He’s so uniquely handsome and spirited, there’s no place else you’d rather be most nights.
Key word being most. Tonight should have gone differently. You came here to end your affair with Sam and yet, here you are, head pressed to his plush pillows as he thrusts in and out of you. Your hands grasp his chiseled arms, fingernails piercing his scarred skin each time he hits that sensitive spot inside of you. He’s good, so good, and he knows your body better than anyone.
“Sam,” you pant, squeezing your legs tighter around his sturdy frame. God, his body is perfect. It’s like he was made for you, or you for him. You just…fit.
His eyes meet yours, darkened with lust and sparkling with adoration. He grins down at you, a lazy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips. Your breath catches as the candlelight illuminates his face and highlights all of the firm areas of his glistening chest. He’s so fucking sexy, you can’t stand it.
“Yes, princess?” He breathes and heat blooms to your cheeks as well as spreading through your insides. As much as you hate to admit it, you love when he calls you that.
“Faster,” you mewl, trailing your fingers from his biceps to his chest, scratching and marking your territory, even though he’s not really yours to claim. Fuck it, though. You’re too far gone, now. You sigh as he fills you, groaning in delight when he answers your request, fucking you faster. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, spacing out letting Sam use your body however he pleases.
“Fuck, princess,” he groans, large hand sliding down your thigh, caressing your soft skin and dragging you closer. You don’t know how, but he manages to angle himself to brush deeper inside of you, making your body arch into him, stars bursting behind your eyelids. “You feel so fucking good,” he says, dropping his head, capturing your lips with his and swallowing every moan you give him.
You nod your head, mind clouded with lust, worsening when Sam moves from your lips to your neck, lightly biting on your pulse point. He’s careful not to leave a mark, though it takes all of his self control to not paint your silky skin with love bites. The intensity in his gut deepens when you squeeze your velvety walls around his cock. He doesn’t stop the moan of your name that tumbles from his lips.
“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, dragging the lobe of his ear between your teeth. Unlike you, he doesn’t care if you brand him with your teeth or your nails or whatever else you can give him. He’s not cautious, wanting, no, craving, your reminders littering his skin. And you’re all too happy to oblige. Heat of the moment, right?
Sam pumps into you at a quicker pace, gliding his rough hand down between the two of you, fingers eagerly finding your throbbing clit. You gasp as he works tantalizingly to bring you to climax. It’ll be the second time tonight, the first being moments ago when Sam could barely control himself at your sudden arrival, begging to eat your pussy on his work desk. Of course, you gave in.
“You close?” Sam asks, smirking as you writhe beneath him. Smug asshole, he knows you are. The way his hard dick slams into you coupled with his skillful fingers against your clit have you trembling, aching for a release.
“Sam,” you breathe. “Fuck, Sam, please, let me cum.”
“Do it,” he orders, flicking his fingers faster, fucking you the only way he knows how, the only way anyone knows how. He’s the only person who can bring you to orgasm so quickly. “Cum on my cock, princess,” he purrs. “Let me feel it.”
His deep, gravelly voice brings you to the edge and with a few high pitched whimpers, you let go. You moan Sam’s name, inflating his already huge ego as you cum. That alone is enough to coax him to his release. With a few brutal snaps of his hips, he grunts and spills his seed deep inside of you, filling you with that warmth that you love. He thrusts a few times, covering your walls with his cum before he collapses on top of you.
You both fall into a happy silence, smile on your face that you can’t get rid of. You run a hand down Sam’s sweaty back, wishing you could stay with him for the rest of the night. He hums into your skin, regretfully pulling out of you and falling to your side. His crooked grin makes your heart jump and all of the feelings you have been trying to forget about come crashing down around you.
“This can’t happen again, Sam. I came here to end things…” You say, breathing heavily as you compose yourself, still feeling the effects of your orgasm. The smile on your face has disappeared as you speak those sour words to his beautiful face.
“I know,” Sam nods with a frown. “You’re right. We’ll end it. Last time.” He breathes and this time, he sounds like he means it.
You both go silent again, wheels turning in your brain as you come down from your high. There’s so much you want to say to him, but you don’t have the words. Not the right words, anyway. Maybe this was a mistake…
“You have a girlfriend,” you say, reminding yourself of that fact. “And I have a fiancé.”
You think about Trevor, your fiancé at home. You think about the wedding you’ve planned and the plans he’s made for your future. You have to go back to him. That life. You don’t have a choice. That's all you know.
Here with Sam, you can be immature and free. You can be yourself, whoever that is. You don’t have to feel so polished and perfect like you do with Trevor. With Sam, you have fun. He tells you about his adventures and he even invites you on smaller trips. He’s so exciting and full of life. And he does things to you in bed that Trevor could never even think of.
Trevor is so proper and therefore, you have to be, too. He’s from wealth, with a well-known family, and he has important familial and political obligations. Trevor has style and worth and he treats you like a princess, which isn’t a complaint. Any girl would be so lucky to have that privilege. You know that. But Sam… Well, you are Sam’s princess.
“I love you,” he says, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s not the first time he’s said it, sometimes he throws it out while he’s inside of you, sometimes he says it before sex, sometimes after, like right now. So you’re not surprised when you hear it. You have the same response as always.
“You don’t,” you sigh, shuffling in his bed. “You just think you do because you don’t spend much time with her anymore…” You say, referring to his girlfriend, Jade. A girl you’ve met a few times, who seems nicer and nicer each time you see her. She obviously cares about Sam. You can’t keep doing this to her. Or to Trevor. It’s not fair.
You’re both being selfish.
“No,” Sam shakes his head, disagreeing with you in an instant. “I’m in love with you,” he says, crawling over the mattress to get to where you’re still laying, naked.
“I’m getting married,” you tell him with a pout.
“Leave him,” Sam insists, placing a chaste kiss to your bare chest. You shake your head and push him away from you, hesitantly getting up from his bed. You sigh, putting your clothes back on in a hurry. You’ve been here too long. Trevor will start to wonder. “Yes, baby. Leave him,” Sam says again.
“Everything is already paid for,” you claim. “The caterer, the venue, the flowers, the band, my dress! I can’t--”
“People end engagements all the time,” Sam tells you, ignoring your laundry list of wedding shit. “Feelings change.”
“I love him,” you say, making him believe it. Making yourself believe it.
“No, you don’t,” Sam scoffs at the words. He hates when you say that. He hates it more than when you leave his bed and go back home to Trevor. It’s bitter and it breaks his heart.
“Yes, I do,” you argue, getting annoyed not just at Sam, but at yourself as well.
“No, you don’t!” Sam finally snaps. “If you loved him you wouldn’t spend every other night with me. You wouldn’t lie about working late, or doing pre-wedding garbage with your best friend to cover up the fact that you’re in my bed -- to cover up the fact that you’re fucking me. You don’t love him.”
“I made a promise,” you say, lip quivering. “I love him, I do.” You swallow hard, pushing down the ball in your throat. You can’t cry in front of Sam. You just can’t.
“Maybe you did at some point,” Sam sighs softly, noticing your tense form. “But you don’t now. I know it. And it’s okay, babe. Sometimes…you think you’re supposed to be with a person. But then someone else comes along and you just know. Baby, I know--”
“So who is to say that the same thing wouldn’t happen with us?” You ask with a shrug of your shoulders. “We could go off and be happy until you meet someone or else…Or I meet someone else…”
“That won’t happen,” he brushes you off with a flick of his hand.
“How can you be so sure?” You ask, looking down at him. He’s still laying in his bed, arms tucked behind his head. He looks so casual, confident. How can he keep himself so collected at a time like this? You’re absolutely freaking out, mentally.
“Because you’re it for me,” Sam says simply. “It’s you, I know it’s you. I’ve been with a lot of girls,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. Of course he has. “But none of them can compare.”
“Sam…” You shuffle awkwardly in place. You’re now fully clothed, but Sam is still bare ass in his sheets, reaching for his cigarettes. You’d give anything to join him.
“I know you feel the same way,” he argues, looking up at you through heavy eyelids. He’s sexy like this and no, fuck, stop it, you tell yourself. You also try to tell yourself that Sam is wrong, that you don’t feel the same way. Hell.
“What about Jade?” You question, not fully giving in to his ridiculous conclusion, but still curious.
“I don’t love her,” he says and it sounds harsh, but you want to believe it’s the truth. Oh, that’s terrible of you. “Princess…”
You sigh, biting your lip at the name. Sam is always using sweet pet names with you, his favorite being “princess” or “baby”. The only time he uses your actual name is when he’s angry, or really horny. It’s the complete opposite with Jade. You used to think it was because he never wanted it to come out that you’re having an affair. It’s easier to use a cute name like princess or baby so he doesn’t accidentally mix up the two of you. But he never calls her anything but Jade. He saves all of his sweetness for you.
“We can’t,” you tell Sam, shaking those realizations from your head. “I can’t. We have to stop.”
“I don’t know how,” he admits, face falling. “I’m so in love with you, dollface. And I know you love me, too.”
His words make hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes. He’s not. He can’t be. Sam Drake doesn’t fall in love. He falls in lust. He likes the thrill, adventure. And that’s what you are. That’s what your entire relationship is. It’s something forbidden and that gives him the adrenaline he craves.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Sam challenges, finally moving from his comfortable position in bed. He walks around the mattress, coming closer to your shy stance. He stops in front of you, but doesn’t touch you, just hovers, invading your personal space with his hot, naked body. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave you alone forever.”
You pause at those words. Forever? That’s too long. Your breathing is getting heavy. You look into his eyes and your heart breaks. You can’t lie to him. You love him, you do. You love him more than anything. But what happens if you do leave your fiancé and you do settle down with Samuel Drake? When does he get bored with the risk out of the picture? When does he decide to move on?
“I can’t,” you respond, but your words aren’t very convincing. Your reserve is crumbling by the second. He knows it.
“Leave Trevor,” he says, no, demands. “We can run away together, go on an adventure,” he suggests and that confirms your feelings that he’s only in it for the excitement. But then, he surprises you. “Or fuck,” he adds with a loud laugh. “We could just go on a normal vacation, just me and you,” he grins and so do you. “Or we can stay here, together, be domestic and shit. Princess, I don’t care. I love you and I just want to be with you.”
There’s something about his words, the way he’s looking at you that makes you believe him. You want to believe him. Can you?
“Sam…” You start, but he stops you.
“I’ll go talk to Jade right now and end things. You can go tell Trevor. We can meet back here. Be with me,” he pleads.
You take a few deep breaths, really thinking about his words. You’d love nothing more. But that risk… Can you really just leave Trevor? It’s too much, you think. But Sam, oh, Sam. A smile breaks out across your face. Your decision is made.
moon or stars? gold or silver? strawberries or blueberries? summer or winter? rose gold or pastel blue? roman mythology or greek mythology? long hair or short hair? tv series or movies?
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