I grip him tighter and yank him closer until his whole body bows toward mine.
He shudders, rasps a broken breath against my neck, and his eyes flash on me like I've just pulled the detonator of his self-control. Like I'm one stroke away from his sanity snapping in two.
Yeah, I'm testing him. But for the record, my boldness is pretty ignorant. I could count my lovers on one hand and still have fingers left, and even my inexperienced brain can tell that Ben is monumental, way bigger than any man I've had. The kind of big that should make me waver.
Thank god my lustful body isn't thinking.
My knees splay wide into the bed, too ready, like they've waited years for this moment. Because they have.
His eyes flick down there and he instantly gets the cue. Heat spears up my spine as his hand fists my ass, dragging me into the grind of his hips against me, so ruthless I'm half sure he'll tear through the layers between us and shove himself inside me in one perfect, brutal thrust.
A loud moan escapes me and I lock my thighs around him, trapping him close.
"Ben. I want more. Take me. However you want," I say fast.
Chest heaving, he pulls his head away and his gaze sears intomine. A vein throbs in his neck and his jaw clenches, like he's already imagining it.
"Take you however I want?" he echoes, brow arched in warning.
I don't back off. I meet that look head-on.
"Emma, if it's up to me, I'll tear that thirst-trap dress into confetti and make sure every inch of you remembers me," he says, voice dark. Then a sinful grin spreads across his face. "How much do you like it?"
Not as much as I like you.
"Rip it. Ruin it. Ruin me," I say, throwing my arms to the side for his access. "I need you inside me."
One brow arches—a final check—before his eyes go pitch-dark. His hand clamps at my throat and I squirm, liking the idea he’s in control of my breathing more than I should. He doesn't tighten his grip, just holds it firm to let me know he's claiming me.
His mouth is back on my breast as his teeth sink in, and he sucks—hard. Hard enough to make my skin thrum, to turn my gasp into a loud cry, and for me to fist the sheets.
When he pulls back, his tongue soothes the sting—gently, lovingly. I look down at the bright red mark staring back at me.
Shhhoooot...I shouldn't like that, right? Pretty sure I wouldn't like it from anyone else, but this is Ben—Ben who I know wouldn't hurt me, Ben who turns pain into pleasure because... he'smy Ben.
He continues to lick my nipples, bite my skin, and plant bruising kisses, red hickeys blooming across my neck and breasts. Each one a proofthat he meant every word tonight—he doesn't care who I go home to, and these marks are a silent message to the world. A vow:
MINE.
MINE.
MINE.
And the truth is I want it. I want his name tattooed in bruises, want every place his mouth has been to ache tomorrow and every day after, so I can remember that for one night this man was utterly mine.
I watch his big hands slide to the low V of my jumpsuit, about to tear it apart, when—
RUMBLE.
My stomach lets out a gurgle so loud it could've been a scream and I freeze.
No. No. No. What the hell is going on?
Worse—he must have heard it too.
Worst—something is coming up.
"Oh god." I manage to shove him away, hand pressed over my mouth. "I think I'm about to throw up."
