Rules Are Made to Be Broen

[A/N: Hello Lovers! Here comes chapter 26 of 29 - how are we this far along already?!

I hope you love it! EG x]

As I wake up, I feel the strong arm that's holding me tense slightly. I blink a little and twist against Sam's chest to look up and find him gazing down at me,

'Good morning, Beautiful' he smiles,

'Good morning to you too' I reply softly, 'were you watching me sleep?' I arch a brow at him,

'Only for a while,' he shrugs, 'A man's allowed to be fascinated by the woman he loves, right?' his grin reaches full power and I blush, burying my face in his chest. 'Hey, you're not taking it back already, are you?' he asks, tilting my chin up to make me look at him, I shake my head,

'Absolutely not. Just getting used to hearing it out loud.' I smile and his grin's back in a flash.

'Good.' He replies, 'because I love you, Jessica Blake.' I pull myself up to face him and take his face in my hands,

'I'm glad to hear it Sam Byron, because I love you too.' I kiss him softly, pressing my naked body against his. We're rudely interrupted by a high-pitched beep coming from the foot of my bed.

'Shit, my alarm.' Sam curses, letting me go to spring onto the floor and rummage through our pile of discarded clothes. When he manages to silence his phone, he turns back to find me on my back with my head hanging over the edge of the bed, shamelessly admiring his bare ass while he was bent over.

'Enjoying the view, Miss Blake?' he smirks, crossing to stand in front of me

'Very much.' I quip, looking up at him. 'Even more so now.' I add, casting a glance at his thick erection that's tantalisingly close.

'Is that so?' he replies, reaching down to pinch both my nipples at once and making me gasp.

In a flash, he takes advantage of my parted lips and rests the head of his cock against them.

'Open wider, Jessica.' He commands firmly.

I obediently comply, shifting slightly to give him easier access to slide every inch of himself into my eager mouth. He lets out a low groan of pleasure that makes me bloom inside as I start using my tongue to massage and lubricate him, urging him to fuck my mouth harder, loving the feel of his hard dick between my lips.

I bend my legs at the knee and arch my back to take him as deep as I can, gagging slightly when he starts playing roughly with my nipples. He pauses, pulling back a little, but I reach around to grab his ass, pulling his cock back to me, letting him know I'm fine, that I don't want him to stop.

Spurred on by my brazen groping, he thrusts forward again, only stopping when my lips make contact with his pubic hair and I moan pleasurably around his length, deep throating every delicious inch of him. Enjoying the feel of his pert ass in my hands, I squeeze lightly, letting my fingers graze between his cheeks and hear a deep moan from above as he starts to rock his hips, steadily fucking my throat while he continues teasing my hard nipples.

'Do you want to taste my come, Jessica?' he growls, never missing a stroke. I nod as best I can and moan around his cock, arching my back against the sheets.

'Good girl.' He breathes as he starts to unload a hot salty stream down my throat.

He pulls out slowly as he comes, letting me swallow hungrily, leaving the last of his climax on my tongue and a few drops on my lips, which I lick up greedily as he gazes down at me adoringly.

'My turn.' He says plainly, with a glint in his eyes, picking me up at the waist and turning me so that my head lies back on the mattress with my feet on the floor. He pushes my thighs apart and drops to his knees between them, splaying his fingers either side of my wet pussy.

He leans forward and blows lightly in my clit, making me writhe in frustrated delight. Then I feel the tip of his tongue travel from the bottom of my slit up to my clit and I moan pleasurably. He repeats the path with the flat of his tongue, lapping sweetly at my creamy folds.

He alternates the same pattern over and over until I'm lifting my hips in time, begging for his tongue to keep finding my clit. Finally, he takes pity on me and wraps his lips around my throbbing bud, licking and sucking it as he eases two long fingers easily inside me, moving them in slow, deep circles. He slides them back out and uses my own cream to lubricate my tight ass. I mewl pleasurably as he pushes one and then two fingers into my ass, repeating the same slow, lazy circles as he slides his thumb into my pussy.

'That feels incredible Sam, please don't stop!' I whine needily, as I start rocking my hips, willing him to finger me faster and deeper.

'Come for me beautiful.' He breathes, before taking my clit between his lips again.

I feel my orgasm start to swell as his fingers pick up pace inside me and hear myself panting wantonly, lost in a cloud of decadent pleasure with his head between my legs, lavishing me with pleasure until I scream, coming hard against his moth and around his fingers.

Afterwards, we're lying face to face, grinning at each other like idiots when his phone rings. Reluctantly, he picks it up and makes a face.

'Sorry Beautiful, it's my aunt, I have to take this, I kiss him lightly and reply

'Not a problem, I'll go make coffee.' I blow him a kiss on my way out and he mouths

'I love You' before accepting the call.

* * * * *

'Sorry, that took so long, Beautiful. Aunt Lou is a major fan of the tiny details.'

I look up from my laptop to see Sam Byron in his underwear and all his dishevelled, unkempt morning glory leaning in my bedroom doorway. Now there's a sight a girl could get used to.

'No worries.' I smile, 'you don't build an empire by half arsing it! - Coffee?'

'I can do it -- looks like you're hard at it already' he replies, nodding towards my laptop.

'Figured I may as well keep myself busy while the man I love was otherwise engaged.' I tease, joining him by the kitchen counter and accepting the cup of coffee he's just poured me, as well as a light kiss.

'Well, woman I love,' he grins back at me, 'does that mean you're feeling confident and ready for your big meeting?' he asks genuinely

'Almost. Tiny bit more tweaking, shower and a spruce up and I should be good to go.' I reply.

'Well in that case, let me make myself useful.' He says, gulping down his coffee. 'I'll get dressed, go get us breakfast -- you shower and...tweak.' he adds with a salacious smirk, kissing me again.

'Sounds good. Take my keys though, in case I'm still in the shower when you get back.' I add, hoping that I am, and that he might come and join me.

After he leaves, I drag myself into the shower and try to focus.

As the water pours over me, I mull over the rollercoaster that is Sam and Me. We love each other. We both said so, but what does that actually mean? I've known him for two weeks and it already feels like we've been through enough ups and downs to last a lifetime.

In the last twenty-four hours alone I've gone from utterly furious to completely blissed out; he's gone from megalomaniac control freak to the attentive sweetheart who's currently out getting us breakfast. Is this how it'll always be if we carry on doing whatever it is we're doing?

And what are we doing anyway? Is he my boyfriend, my Dom, my lover -- all of the above? We haven't talked about his recurring booking yet either -- will he cancel it? Can I really expect someone who loves me to accept that I occasionally submit to other men for money? I have no clue. But I believe in us. I believe that we can figure it out.

And I do know that I love being with him; I finally understand what it is to just 'click' with someone. I love the sparring and the banter, and spending time with him is never dull, whether we're in the bedroom or not; though there's no doubting the sex is outstanding.

We showered together last night, after the most passionate make-up sex maybe ever, and in no time, we were lost in each other all over again. I let my hand linger between my legs as I remember him trailing his soft wet kisses over every inch of my thighs. He purposely took his time, making me wait until I was aching for his lips against my pussy.

I slide my fingertip against my slit now, retracing the actions of his tongue, teasing me lightly at first, before lapping at me hungrily, tasting me deeply. Then replacing his tongue with two long talented fingers while he sucked and nibbled gently on my clit until I came and his mouth was back on me savouring every drop. I breathe deeply as I start fingering myself thinking of the weight of him on top of me, making love to me.

I push a second finger inside myself as I remember him repeating my name over and over as he filled me up with his own release a second time. I hear myself panting as I reposition slightly so that the jets of water from the shower fall against my hard nipples while I make myself come picturing Sam's mop of dark hair between my legs.

As I compose myself and start to lather my hair with shampoo, I let my mind wander, thinking about what life could be like with Sam. If all goes well today and I could let Amber retire, maybe just maybe we could have a go at a proper 'normal' relationship. Well, our own sort of deliciously kinky normal, full of fantastic sex and deviant games, anyway. Maybe his control issues would subside a bit if he knew he was the only one too, who knows?

I know I'd definitely like to find out.

I step out of the shower, wrap myself up in a towel and grab another for my hair. As I get into the lounge, I see Sam's back already.

'Hey gorgeous' I breeze, 'what's for breakfast?' I look up from towel drying my hair and my heart stops. He's standing by my open laptop; his whole body is tense and his eyes are blazing with anger.

'A love story? Really?' His voice is worryingly quiet.

'What the hell are you doing with my laptop?' I reply defensively

'You left it open. My phone's dead and I was going to check my emails. It's a good thing too - you really had me fooled.' His words drip with contempt.

'Sam, please let me explain. It's not what you think.' I start

'Really? So, your epic romance novel isn't actually the sordid life and times of a submissive hooker? And me, I'm not just a chapter in your sleazy little book?' his voice is louder, his anger starting to make itself known.

'Sleazy? Do I need to remind you how we met?' I retort indignantly.

'At least I've always been up front about what I am, Jessica, or should I say Amber? I might have fucked up a bit along the way, but it was always because I cared about you.' He looks crushed and I hate myself for knowing it's my fault.

'I care about you too, Sam! - look for yourself - there's no mention of you in there, I'd never do that!' I plead, but he's not listening.

'Well at least now I understand why you're so reluctant to quit,' he continues coolly, ignoring me, 'without Amber, you wouldn't have any material, would you?' his voice is dripping with disdain and suddenly I don't care about how hurt he is. He really thinks I want to keep Amber in business as a fucking muse?

'I think you should leave.' I say quietly.

'Oh, don't worry, I'm going.' He says fiercely, 'It's been nice knowing you Amber, send Jessica my regards.'

He storms out, slamming the door behind him. I slump onto the sofa feeling totally numb.

Tears are stinging in the back of my eyes but I know if I let them start, they won't stop. Right now, I need to concentrate on impressing Katherine DeVere.

I can worry about Sam later. If he'll let me.

* * * * *

I step out of the Red Velvet office feeling deflated, lost and heartbroken.

It's official. I'm going to be a published writer. My life's dream realised, to an extent. I look down at the cheque Katherine DeVere handed me a few minutes ago.

Two thousand pounds.

I remember her words:

'I realise this may be a smaller advance than you were hoping for Jessica, but if you let us publish your book, I am confident that the royalties will mean frequent and more valuable cheques in the very near future.'

Two thousand pounds.

I could have earned that in a couple of hours with one client, rather than writing about three years' worth. Bigger picture though Jessica, I tell myself. Unfortunately, the bigger picture does nothing to cheer me up right now, especially since I'm pretty sure it's not going to include Sam.

I check my phone hopefully. I sent him a text when I was on my way to the meeting asking him to hear me out. No reply. I sigh heavily and decide I need alcohol or cake. Three in the afternoon is probably too early for cocktails so I head to the Buttercup Bakery.

* * * * *

'So, you sort of look like you've won the lottery but can't find the ticket.' Anna says, placing a large slice of something chocolatey and an equally large caramel latte in front of me. I smile at her half heatedly.

'As usual, my darling Anna, you know me far too well.'

'Anything to do with Mr Not-a-Date, who you're definitely not dating?' she queries with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. I roll my eyes and reply

'Well, let's just say we're really definitely not dating now.'

'So, then I guess you would like him to be your special someone after all?' she presses.

'No. Well maybe. Sort of. There was potential, possibly. But it doesn't matter now because I've screwed it all up anyway.' I answer, spooning cake into my mouth.

'So, fix it.' She shrugs.

'It's not that simple. Maybe we're just not all destined for happy ever afters like you and Tom.' I reply gloomily.

'Well not with that attitude!' she snaps, a little harshly I think, given my obviously emotional state. 'Seriously,' she continues, 'who are you and what have you done with my friend Jessica? Because when she wants something, she doesn't sit about feeling sorry for herself, she does whatever she needs to do to get it.' She softens a little, taking my hand in hers, 'whoever he is Jess, he must be pretty special for you to even be giving him a second thought.'

Suddenly, inspiration hits me.

'Anna, you're absolutely right.' I say, finishing my coffee quickly.

'Yeah, I usually am.' She smiles back at me.

'I have to go. Thanks for the pep talk sweet cheeks.' I plant a kiss on her cheek and head out with a renewed sense of hope.

* * * * *

Back at home, I take a deep breath and pull a dusty cardboard box file out from the back of my wardrobe -- my first manuscript. I've not looked at in years but I still know it almost by heart. It's a modern re-telling of Tess of the D'Urbervilles -- 'An Untameable Girl', but with a new ending, where my version of Tess gets the happy ending I always felt like she deserved. Oh, the irony! As I read the first page, I remember the pride I felt when I finished it. I smile, reliving the excitement at the idea of introducing my favourite author to a new audience.

Then I shudder as my mind flashes back to Andrew Clarke's hand, sliding uninvited between my legs. I close my eyes tight, trying to block the memory out; inwardly scolding myself as I've done a thousand times before.

Why didn't I see it coming? I was so sure he was just being kind when he let me stay in his spare room rent free. He'd encouraged me to quit my part time bar job to make more time for writing, said it was no big deal for him to supplement my expenses; that he was happy to 'invest in my talent.' I feel so naive looking back; thinking of the way his eyes always seemed to be on me in class, the way he always sat just a little too close. I shudder and put the pages down. I didn't pull them out for a trip down memory lane.

I take a fresh sheet of paper from my dresser drawer, pick up my pen and start to write.

Dear Sam,

I am so sorry you found out about my book the way you did. I'm not sorry for writing it, but I do regret not being honest with you from the start. I meant what I said about you not being in there though - it's never even crossed my mind to include you because it's a book about men who mean nothing to me, men who don't even know that Jessica exists. What we have, or had, is or was, way too special to mention in the same breath as any of them.

The book I did tell you about wasn't a lie either, and I'm enclosing the manuscript with this letter.

You see, before Amber existed, Jessica was a girl who dreamed of being a writer -- a proper writer. She was a literature student whose lecturer led her to believe she had talent and that he would champion her work, use his many contacts in the publishing industry to help her succeed. He persuaded her to quit her part-time job, said he was happy to help her out financially, telling her not to worry about money, to concentrate on her writing. He even let her live rent free in his spare room so she could focus on her manuscript.

He was a professional writer, published several times over, she was naïve and trusting, and soon completely dependent on his support. What he had failed to mention was that his support would eventually come at a price, namely, her body.

When he tried to force himself on her, she fought him off and threatened to report him to the university, to the police, ruin his career and his marriage.

He laughed in her face. Told her that she had no proof, that she was a silly little prick tease with no real talent and nobody would believe a word she said. He was a respected scholar. He had influence. He could make sure she was finished as a writer before she'd even begun.

Jessica was crushed, disillusioned and terrified of the damage that man could do to her career before it had even started. She went to the nearest bar and started downing tequila shots, trying to forget the way her skin crawled as he had pushed his hand up her skirt and between her thighs.

That's where Jessica met Crystal, who insisted a 'precious jewel' should at least drown her sorrows in a proper drink. She ordered Armagnac and Jessica started to drunkenly confide in her, telling her the whole sorry tale.

Crystal made Jessica a job offer. She told her she could use her body to her own advantage and exploit the men who lusted after it on her own terms to earn herself enough money and time to chase whatever dream she chose.

And that's where Amber was born.

Jessica thought she could use Amber's exploits to take charge of the situation, write a new book and one day send a copy to the lecherous bastard who destroyed every ounce of confidence she'd had in herself.

As a twist in the tale, Jessica came to enjoy submitting as much as Amber did. It gave her space to shut out and forget the past. Temporarily relinquishing control actually made her feel like she was in charge of her own destiny again.

It was all going well until Jessica fell in love with one of Amber's clients and discovered a whole new level of pleasure in submitting to him. She'd all but forgotten the thrill of having sex that wasn't paid for in advance, let alone the joy of making love to someone who really cared about her.

Now, she's just hoping that he still feels the same way and that she hasn't completely screwed everything up.

Please give me another chance Sam.

I miss my friend and I miss my lover. I miss you Sam, and I love you.

Your Jessica x

I package the letter up with the yellowed pages and call a courier to have it picked up. Looking at his name on the package, I reach up and touch the necklace that bears my own. I feel the sting of tears welling in my eyes again. I hope Anna really is always right.

[Look out for chapter 27 coming soon! EG x]