Ben hums. “Not an exhibitionist then? The little show in the relaxation room tells me otherwise.”
I bite my lip, looking up at him. “I don’t mind a little exhibitionism.” I shrug. “But there’s no one else here! We can’t even be discreet! Hide in the middle of a crowd—that sort of thing!”
“Fuck discreet,” Ben replies. His dick seems to agree, insistent against me as he draws closer and closer. His eyes zero in on my neck and he grins, leaning in to bite the juncturebetween my neck and shoulder. “Don’t be pissed,” he starts, “but you may or may not have to cover this hickey for the next couple of days.”
“Hickey?!” I shove Ben off of me, which he takes in stride, submerging himself fully in the bath. He resurfaces with a huge grin painted across his stupidly beautiful face. Water drips from his hair, and I can’t even be mad at him when he shakes his head like a dog coming in from the rain. My hand finds the side of my neck, tracing the spot Ben left his mark on me. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to cover a hickey in this heatwave, you asshole.”
“Don’t cover it.” His long arms hook behind my legs, tugging me back toward him. “I like it almost as much as I like seeing you wear your ring,” he tacks on, speaking to himself more than me.
“I have to cover it,” I laugh, pushing back. “I’m starting classes soon. No one is going to take me seriously if I have a giant bite mark on my neck.”
He doesn’t answer me, instead swimming toward me with only his head and neck above the water. With my feet planted firmly on the steps, he’s eye level with my navel. Which is exactly where he puts his chin once he’s close enough. He kisses my stomach, asking, “What about here?”
“Hmm?”
He looks up at me through long lashes, drops of water snaking their way across his face, over his nose. He’s unfairly pretty when he smiles, and I get the feeling that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “Can I bite you here, Colette?”
“Oh.”
Ben nips right next to my belly button, and goosebumps erupt across my flesh. “I think I’d like to mark you here and maybe…” He drags a finger lazily down the seam of my bikini, moving closer and closer to my inner thigh.
“How do you always end up on your knees for me, hmm?” I ask, increasingly distracted by where his hands are going.
“Very, very intentionally, Red.”
“You can, by the way.”
“Can what?”
“Mark me.” That’s all the permission he needs. His strong hands come around my waist, hauling me up to set me on the wide ledge of the bath. He shoves my legs open, sending me off balance before I can steady myself by grabbing onto the outer lip of the tub.
Ben’s lips latch onto my inner thigh right at the juncture of my hip, and hesucks. Hard.
Immediately I’m met with images of him sucking on other things, and the heat pooling low in my belly is demanding to be released.
As if he can read my mind, his mouth closes over my clit and he sucks again. My head is spinning in the most delicious way, and I’m right back to wanting more, just like our earlier kiss.
Without removing my bathing suit bottoms—as if he’s too lust crazed to create time for such a frivolous act—he hooks his finger in them, moving it to the side so he has full access to me. He returns to his task with gusto, and I appreciate his dedication to being perfect at everything he tries, I really do. It is absolutely working to my benefit at this moment as Ben’s tongue swirls methodically. He teases my entrance with a finger as his other hand comes up to tweak my nipple.
That’s all it takes. Somehow this man’s tongue has become the key to my orgasmic bliss, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without?—
Holy shit.As the last waves of my orgasm are cresting, Ben returns to my navel, sucking a mark right next to it, too. Something about seeing how feral he is, in addition to the factthat two of his fingers have found that perfect spot inside me, has me falling quickly into a second orgasm.
My moans echo off the tile walls around us and I’m praying to every god in the universe that this room is soundproof.
Ben kisses his way up my heaving torso, stopping to leave one more hickey on the underside of my breast—he’s insatiable.
“I can’t believe I just let you eat me out inside of a bathhouse.” I cover my mouth as a bubble of laughter threatens to erupt.
Ben’s answering grin is playful, puppy-like. “I can. We know a bath turns you on, Red. No one is surprised by this.”
Fine, maybe he’s right.
When Ben is dropping Ernest and me off at my apartment later that evening, I expect him to try to stay.
Instead, he gives me the most tender kiss on my forehead, draws a single line down my palm, and says, “One down, four to go.”
Then he’s gone.
