My head flops back against the pillow, knowing I won’t be able towithstand the lashes of his tongue against my swollen flesh much longer. Add in the sight of his pleasure at giving me oral, and I’m a goner.
Surges of pleasure build and build between the apex of my thighs. His fingers glide inside me just as he clamps his gifted mouth around my clit and sucks. His groans vibrate against my achy center as he continues to slurp and lick my delicate, swollen flesh. Unable to help myself, I peer back down at him to find his muscular hand wrapped around his shaft, tugging firmly as he continues to pleasure me.
“Ben,” I pant.
“Yes, baby girl. That’s it,” he practically groans into my sex. “I can’t wait to taste you coming all over my tongue.”
The combination of his dirty words, the feel of his stubble against my over-sensitized skin, and the fact I’m already teetering on the edge has me free-falling. “Ben. Ben. God, I…” My head starts to thrash as a wave of euphoria threatens to swallow me whole. One more tug against my clit with just the right amount of suction, and I’m drowning in my release. “Ben.” I cry out.
I can barely make out the sound of his release over the loud thrumming of blood in my ears. He steps away, a chill taking over my flushed skin in his absence. I pull my legs closed and into my chest as I roll on my side and attempt to control my breathing.
“You okay?”
Looking up, I find Ben at the end of the bed pulling a different T-shirt over his head. My eyes fall to his navy boxer briefs, the bulge contained within them not nearly as prominent as it had been moments ago.
“Um.” I hesitate for a moment before deciding to go all in. “Did you?” How does one ask if the man who gave me the most incredible oral sex of my life just came in their shorts? I guess it’s really none of my business. Yet the thrill at the prospect his going down on me could’ve elicited such a result is too tempting. Heck, no man I’ve ever been with has volunteered to take care of me in such a way. Much less, offer it without any pressure for reciprocation.
“Did I…?” He cocks a brow teasingly before continuing.
My face flushes.
“Did I come in my pants at the taste of you? Yes, ma’am. Yes, I did.” His admission is bold, but one of the most gloriously self-satisfying statements I’ve ever heard. Add in the boyishly bashful grin upon this obviously experienced man’s face, and I think I might finally understand the whole swooning thing in books now.
My cheeks burn in response to his admission. Biting down on my lower lip to keep from squealing, I burrow my face into my pillow.
His hearty chuckle envelopes me like fresh morning dew clinging to the grass at the start of a new day. Ben climbs over my body, over-exaggeratedly bouncing the bed. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” I giggle.
“Come here.” Ben rolls to his side, pulling me into his arms. I relish this rare carefree moment in time. Enjoying the unexpected intimacy as the post-orgasmic haze lulls me back into slumber. One last thought crosses my mind as I drift off.
How do you protect yourself from repeating past mistakes when a man like Ben waltzes into your life?
16
BEN
Rolling over,I fling my forearm over my eyes to shield them from the harsh sunlight pouring between the almost sheer drapes. Hell. This entire project is going to be a gut job. But I’m feeling more optimistic that it’ll be worth every cent I pour into it. And none of this would be possible without the beauty next to me.
My lucky charm.
Turning toward Grace with a big-ass grin covering my face, I reach to pull her body back into mine but flinch when instead I get an armful of limp pillow.What the?—
My eyes fly open, my gaze ping ponging about the room. Popping upright, I take a quick inventory of the small space. There’s no trace of her. The clothes, her shoes, her purse.
She’s gone.
Springing from the bed, I rush for the bathroom. However, I’ve already reconciled what I’ll find before I step inside. An empty space covered in aged yellow tile and cracked formica. No Grace.
My mind races to hold onto anything that could lead me to her as I instinctively rub my palm over my chest. The tow truck company!
I race to where my wallet sits on the small desk by the door. Fumbling inside, I come up short. “Hell. What was the name of that place?” Yet, as hard as I try, I can’t recall it for the life of me. I’m only able to picture the blue and white logo on the card. No name. Not even any damn initials.
As if looking for some trace that she wasn’t a figment of my imagination, I double check each compartment of my wallet. Unlike many of the women in my past, this down on her luck beauty at least left all of my money.
Who are you running to, Grace?
Why didn’t I ask if she was involved with anyone? I can’t fathom she’d be the type who would’ve spent the evening with me if she wasin a committed relationship. But I’ve been wrong before. If she’s racing back to a man, he doesn’t deserve her.
