She came back.
She came back.
I stand while she’s still straddling me and lay her on the rug.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BLAIRE
Finally having Bennet's weight on top of me, having him between my legs, is world ending. There's no part of my body left that isn't fully aware of him — his chest hard against mine, his hand gentle on my cheek, kissing me like he genuinely cannot get enough and has been waiting a very long time to stop pretending otherwise.
He reaches between us, slides my panties to the side, and I take in a sudden breath against his mouth when I feel him slide two fingers inside me.
"Fuck yes." He growls. "You feel like silk on my fingers, baby."
I dig into his hair and scrape my nails against his scalp as he lowers his head and takes my nipple into his mouth. I don't even know when he pulled my dress down. I'm so completely lost in his touch that the sequence of events has stopped mattering entirely.
"Bennet." I whimper, my hips chasing each thrust of his fingers. But he suddenly stills, everything going quiet, and presses his forehead against mine.
With a slight shake of his head, he whispers, "Please say my name. My real name. I need to hear it from your lips again."
I feel his tears against my cheek.
I take his face in both hands and pull him back so I can see his eyes — ten years of Michael Bennett looking back at me through the face of the man I've spent weeks trying to understand and finally do.
"I love you, Michael."
"Fuck." The word tears out of him in a sob that rivals the scream that rips from my throat when he immediately starts to piston his fingers. My legs start to shake and I can feel my orgasm cresting fast.
My back arches clean off the floor. His mouth finds my breast again, tugging my nipple between his teeth with exactly the right pressure. Like instinct alone brought him here.
"I want to try—" He doesn't finish the thought before he curls his fingers inside me, pressing down against my lower stomach with his palm.
Whatever that is detonates through my entire body.
I bolt upright, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding on while he works me through it. I feel the gush before I understand what's happening.
"Oh god—" My hips roll up. "Fuck,Michael!" My body jerks forward as my release barrels through me, my pussy pulsing around his fingers.
"Yes. Fucking hell, Blaire." He growls it against my ear. "Come, baby. Fucking soak me."
The sound of his fingers fucking me through my orgasm, my moans mixed with his — it's deliciously filthy. My thighs quiver having completely succumbed.
"Fuck, there she is. So fucking beautiful." He pants in my ear. "Fucking divine. Silky and wet. I love how you feel."
I can barely hear him over the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I fall back onto the floor.
He slides his fingers free and stares at his hand — at the evidence of what just happened coating his skin — and the look on his face is pure awe. He brings a finger to his mouth, and I watch him taste me. My thighs clench so hard, it's almost another orgasm.
“Goddamn,” he murmurs almost to himself. Then slides another finger into his mouth, sucking it clean.“Goddamn.” He repeats.
“Holy shit, Bennet.” I’m sucking in air like I’m oxygen deficient; I drape my forearm over my face. “Just leave me here. Right here. They’ll do away with my body.”
He chuckles.
My body feels boneless. Between the alcohol and the food and the crying and this, I am utterly spent. He must notice it too, because he’s on his feet and lifting me from the floor to deposit me back on the couch.
"You're exquisite." He looks down at me. "I have so many more things I want to do to you. But you need sleep."
