“Come here.”
Ben pulls me toward him, and I go willingly. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s exactly what I need. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I make a small, desperate sound in the back of my throat.
I’m officially melting.
My bones, my resolve, my common sense. All of it seems to dissolve under the heat of his mouth. Ben’s hand tightens in my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and I clutch at his shoulders just to stay upright.
Somehow, I end up in Ben’s lap, straddling him in the dining chair. My dress rides up around my thighs as I settle against him, and I gasp at the hard ridge pressing against my center.
His hands grip my waist, holding me steady as I instinctively rock against him. The friction is amazing. I do it again, chasing that spark of pleasure, and his fingers dig into my skin.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Take what you need.”
I should be embarrassed. I’m grinding against him in his brother’s dining room, making little whimpering sounds with each roll of my hips.
But I can’t stop.
It feels too good.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. Every grind of my hips sends waves of pleasure radiating through my core. His hardness presses exactly where I need it, creating a delicious pressure that makes me dizzy with need. I’m suddenly aching, empty, desperate to be filled.
When Ben’s mouth moves to my neck, I gasp and arch against him. It’s like I can feel his kisses between my legs, like every swipe of his tongue against my throat is connected directly to my clit. Each gentle bite sends another jolt through me, building a pressure that’s almost unbearable.
Suddenly, I freeze.
What am I doing? I’m basically humping him in his brother’s dining room where anyone could walk in. Instantly, my cheeks burn.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, trying to pull away. “This is—I shouldn’t?—”
“No,” Ben says firmly, his hands tightening on my hips. “Don’t stop. Don’t overthink this.”
“But your family?—”
“Is on the other side of the house.” His eyes are dark, intense. “Keep going, Tilly. I want to watch you come.”
His words send another shock of heat through me.
“I can’t just?—”
“You can.” His hand slides up my back, steadying me. “You were so close. I could feel it.” His voice drops lower. “Let me help you.”
Before I can respond, his hand moves between us. His thumb presses against my clit through my underwear, and I gasp.
“There she is,” he murmurs.
I’m trembling, caught between embarrassment and desperate need. But when his thumb circles my clit again, my hips jerk forward instinctively.
“Just like that,” he encourages. “Move against my hand.”
I start to rock against his hand, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. His other arm wraps around my waist, holding me steady as I chase my pleasure. His eyes never leave my face, watching every flicker of sensation with hungry intensity.
“Ben.” It’s a choked, needy whimper. “I’m going to?—”
“Do it,” he rasps. “I want to feel you come.”
My orgasm crashes over me without warning. I bury my face against his neck to muffle my cry as waves of pleasure pulse through me. My thighs shake, my fingers dig into his shoulders,and for a moment, I forget where I am as everything narrows down to this perfect sensation.
When I come back to myself, I’m slumped against his chest, breathing hard. His arms are wrapped around me, one hand stroking my back in soothing circles.
