MAKE LOVE TO ME SAMSON

MABEL

The heavy oak door of my bedroom clicked open, breaking the stifling silence that had consumed my life for the past four days.

I didn't bother sitting up at first. I just lay there on the bed, my messy hair spread across the pillows, staring at the ceiling with dry, aching eyes. But then I heard his heavy, familiar footsteps crossing the floor.

Samson stopped at the edge of the mattress. He looked down at me, his handsome face calm, unreadable, and terrifyingly calm. He looked so innocent, so pure—like the righteous warrior prince the pack elders always praised. But underneath that handsome facade lived a dangerous, calculating monster.

"Mabel," Samson started, his deep voice smooth and steady. "I want to have a word with you."

I sat up slowly, pulling my dirty silk robe around my shoulders. I didn't say a word. I just glared at him, my chest heaving with cold, bitter hatred.

"From your eyes outside, I could tell," Samson continued, stepping closer until he was standing right beside the bed. "You do not believe Nicholas locked Damian up down in that cave."

A cold, sharp shiver ran down my spine. I kept my mouth shut, but my eyes narrowed.

"And I also know you plan to sell me out to Damian," he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, lethal whisper.

He didn't panic. He didn't raise his voice. He just stood there, laying his cards on the table like a seasoned gambler.

"You can't prove that I did it," Samson went on, leaning over slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute authority. "But I don't want Damian to have the idea. I don't want him to even entertain the thought, let alone believe it or not. A spark of suspicion from Damian is enough to ruin everything I am building."

He took a slow, deep breath, crossing his broad arms over his chest.

"So name your price, Mabel," Samson said coldly. "Name your price, and I will do it for you just to keep your mouth shut."

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.

I hated Samson. God knew I hated him with every bone in my body. I hated him for looking at Aisha with respect, I hated him for giving me divorce papers, and I hated him for making me feel like a useless ghost in my own home. Getting into a deal with a devil like Samson was dangerous—I knew he could snap my neck in a heartbeat if he thought he could get away with it. But right now, I had no choice. I held the winning card, and I was going to play it.

He wanted a divorce. He wanted to throw me out with fifty percent of his cash while he kept the entire pack empire for himself and his white-furred maid. But I didn't just want money. I wanted power. I wanted status. And above all, I wanted a child—an heir carrying Alpha blood in my womb that would legally guarantee me full control over the Blue Wing Pack forever.

A slow, dark smile spread across my face.

"My price?" I whispered, my voice dripping with sweet, poisonous confidence.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up straight in front of him. Without taking my eyes off his face, I unfastened the belt of my silk robe. I let the fabric slide off my arms, letting it pool completely onto the floor at my feet.

I stood before him naked, raw, and desperate.

"Make love to me, Samson," I demanded, taking a step closer to him. I reached down with my right hand, my fingers tracing the coarse, dark hairs covering my core. "Touch me. Give me what is mine."

The moment the words left my mouth, Samson’s face twisted into absolute, agonizing horror.

"NO!" he yelled.

The roar ripped from his throat so violently, so loudly, that the windowpanes vibrated in their wooden frames. He backed away from me as if I had just announced the sudden, gruesome death of a loved one to him. He looked at my bare body not with lust, not even with anger, but with pure, skin-crawling revulsion.

Tears of hot humiliation stung the backs of my eyes. Could sleeping with his own wife sound this bad? Was the thought of touching me really worse to him than dying in battle?

"I can't do this, Mabel!" Samson pleaded, his voice cracking as he kept backing away toward the door, his hands raised in surrender. "Please... say something else! Ask for money, ask for territory, ask for gold! But please... say something else!"

The raw disgust in his voice cut through me like a silver dagger. Humiliation burned through my veins, rapidly turning into a blinding, murderous rage.

I snatched my robe up from the floor, throwing it over my shoulders and tying the knot tight around my waist with shaking hands.

"Get out," I snarled, pointing a trembling, manicured finger straight at his chest. "Come back only when you are serious, Samson! But you should know one thing—I will be visiting Damian’s palace first thing in the morning! Let us see if he buys your sweet little lie about Nicholas after I tell him the truth!"

Samson stared at me for a long, heavy second. His jaw flexed tightly, a flicker of pure hatred flashing through his eyes, but he didn't say another word. He turned on his heel, opened the door, and walked out, slamming it shut behind him.

The heavy sound echoed through the silent house.

I stood there alone, my breathing fast and ragged. Slowly, I walked back over to the bed and sank onto the mattress. The humiliation was heavy, but underneath it, I knew I had won. He was terrified of Damian. He was terrified of losing his army and his precious reputation. He had no choice.

I lay back on the silk sheets, spreading my legs wide open in the dark room.

I slid my hand down beneath my gown, my fingers finding the dry, sensitive skin between my thighs. My vagina was dry and aching, but I didn't care. I began to finger my pussy with hard, desperate pushes, rubbing my thumb relentlessly against my clitoris.

Reject me all you want tonight, Samson, I thought, my breath hitching as a dull, familiar ache spread through my lower belly. Run away all you want.

I closed my eyes, pushing my fingers in and out faster, forcing my body to feel the friction. I knew the truth. Samson was a cornered rat, and tomorrow, before the sun rose over the mountains, he would come crawling back into this room.

Very soon, whether he liked it or not, Samson's thick penis would screw life back into this dry pussy—and his seed would make me the undisputed Luna of Blue Wing forever.