There are no tears, just raw anger and frustration and a sliver of relief.
“How could they keep this from me for all these years? I deserved to know. And after the way he’s treated me all my life. God, I can’t believe I haven’t questioned it before. We don’t even look alike.”
“Do you want me to ask Reid to do some digging, see if we can find out who your real father is?”
She blinks at me, her anger dissipating a little. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would.”
“That’s a big ask with everything else going on right now, Benson. I can’t do that. This can wait.”
“No, it can’t wait. This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”
She throws her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. I’ve seen more emotion out of her today than I have in the year we were together, and my chest aches at the thought that she finally feels safe enough to show this side of her. To be exposed and vulnerable.
To finally let me in all the way.
She throws a leg over my lap, straddling me, her lips shamelessly claiming mine as she rocks gently, teasingly, my cock growing painfully hard beneath her. I’ve been fighting like hell to keep it contained for the sake of being a gentleman because the last twenty-four hours have been a fucking wrecking ball of emotions for us both, but I’m done holding back.
“Benson, please,” she begs. “I need you.”
“Christ, baby,” I groan, devouring her, my tongue seeking the dominance I so desperately crave.
Her body instantly submits, sagging against me, silently begging for what we both need.
“Stand up,” I order, as I lean back.
Her chest is rising and falling quickly, eyes blown wide as she slowly slides from my lap to stand in front of me, awaiting my next command.
“Strip.”
A soft smile plays on those swollen lips, anticipation sparking in her silver eyes as she tugs off my sweatshirt and tosses it aside before peeling her leggings and panties off her toned legs. There’s not an ounce of trepidation or fear in her eyes. Just complete surrender and trust. The sight has my heart and cock swelling in unison.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you obey me,” I praise,and a blush paints her creamy cheeks.
I take my time raking my gaze over her body, the fullness of her breasts, the expanse of her curvy hips, the freckle I love to lick just above her bare pussy.
“Turn around and bend over.”
Without hesitation, she obeys, spinning in place before bending at the waist and bracing her hands on the coffee table in front of her.
“Wider.”
A soft gasp escapes her lips as she spreads her legs wider.
Fuck me.
She may be the one obeying my every command, exposing herself to me on the basest, most intimate level, but she’s the one who fucking owns me.
“Good girl.”
My body is on fire.
I have never been so turned on. There have been plenty of times when Benson has had me at his mercy—so wound up and wrung out that I didn’t know which way was up—but this is different. The dynamic has shifted between us, and there’s a level of trust that wasn’t there before.
Benson’s praise sends another electrifying bolt of desire straight to my core. I’m impossibly wet, pussy clenching tight, desperate to be filled. The pads of his fingers dig into my heated skin, kneading and squeezing as he opens me up for his slow perusal. The strike to my cheek rains fire on my ass, body sagging, eyes fluttering closed as the bite of exquisite pain washes over me. The second strike quickly follows the first, landing directly in the same spot, robbing me of breath, delivering a current of blazing heat to race through me.
“You’re soaked, baby,” he murmurs, gently caressing my stinging ass. “So wet and pink, just for me.”
