“I love it, I love—” he stops himself from…I can’t think about that. So I sink all the way down and both of us moan. After a deep breath, I start moving. “You are spectacular,” he says, his voice a garbled mess. With lust, probably. Not emotion. This feels amazing. That’s all.
…Right?
I close my eyes and fall back on my signature charm, “Enjoying the show while I do all the work?”
He huffs a laugh and flexes up into me at the same time that he tucks his hands behind his head like he’s laying on a pool lounger or something.
“Absolutely I am.”
“I bet,” I say while slowing my pace.
He grabs my hips, somehow knowing I want to be on top. That he and I both need for me to be on top. If he flips me, if he pulls in and out of me while making melty eye contact and forcing sweet words back into his mouth…
“May I?” He asks.
“I guessss—oh!”
He thrusts the snark right up out of me along with maybe some of my vital organs and…I…I’m weightless. He moves me up and down like I’m his personal toy. I’m going to be sore tomorrow with the way he’s pounding into me, even though he’s on the bottom.
“Ben. So good,” I groan involuntarily.
He stops, “Say it again.”
“So good. Don’t stop,” Another insides-rearranging thrust. I cry out, “Please don’t stop!”
And he doesn’t. Not until I am detonating around him which makes him immediately let go inside me. It is…everything. He is…I…
“Just to be clear,” he pants. “If I want to get shagged again, I just need to flirt with—”
“Finish that sentence while I have a grip on your dick, I dare you,” I sass back.
He laughs and I ease myself off of him.
He sits up while I search for my thong.
His voice is soft when he talks again, “I hadn’t even remembered that about her, to be honest. I wasn’t thinking about her at all. Even when I was standing there talking to her, I was just worried about you. We’d gone all weird.”
“We did. You were polite. I hated it.”
He laughs as he heads to his bathroom, “What, are manners too British? You hate when I’mpolitenow?”
“I didn’t like when you were politeto me.”
“Noted. I’ll try to be an asshole from here on out.”
“Please do,” I say, grateful that he’s playing with me again. He starts to clean himself up in the bathroom and, for reasons I don’t want to look at too closely, I decide I desperately need to leave, to shower. Alone.
“Goodnight!” I call out. Then I bolt.
38
BEN
You idiot wanker mother fucking tool bag tosser and a half.
I stare at my open bedroom door.
I knew it. I knew we shouldn’t cross the line.
