His smile is pure wickedness as he glances up and notices.
‘But I don’t think you’re wet enough,’ his deep rumbling voice asserts as he makes a show of wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a solid tug. Everything inside me clenches. God, I want to feel, feel the weight of his body over mine. ‘Because you don’t want me to hurt you, do you? You want me to make you wet.’
It takes a moment for his words to make sense, but when they do, I nod eagerly. ‘Yes, yes.’So it’s a yes, then. Truthfully, I’d take either of those things.
A moment later, Ben hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties, dragging them leisurely—deliciously—down my legs, igniting the nerve endings there. He hooks his hands under my knees, lifting me onto the sun-warmed countertop as he stands, his hard body a friction I can barely stand.
‘How do we make you wet?’ he ponders, his gaze as mesmerising as any flame. ‘How do we do it?’
My heart beats wildly, his words barely making sense as he brings his index and middle finger to my bottom lip, barely pushing them inside.Oh...He drags them farther down my chin and down between my breasts.
‘W-with your fingers?’ I suggest, my chest heaving between us and not going unnoticed by him. His fingers at my sternum, he presses me backwards until I’m propped on my forearms and his mouth is at my breast. A touch of tongue, the kiss of his lips, then a bite to the full flesh underneath causes me to cry out, throwing my head back so I can see the September sky from the window. I find I no longer care who sees me, though somewhere in the back of my mind, I hope we spare Mrs H. Right now, Ben could probably fuck me outside on the tiny balcony for the passing busses to judge.
His fingers continue their way down my body, trailing a slow circle around my navel, the muscles of my abdomen trembling before Ben slips two fingers down to my slit, trailing them farther to where I’m wet. He pushes them inside my body, and I cry out, arching my back, trying to impale myself on his hand.
‘I’m going to fuck you with my tongue.’ It isn’t a request. ‘After you come all over my fingers, I’m going to make you come on my tongue.’
Ben twists his wrist, driving those fingers inside me again and again.
‘Oh, God,’ I whimper, bucking up into his hand, unable to get close enough. I can’t concentrate, feeling full and hollow all at once. A sensation of abundance with the need to be filled.
‘Can you hear how wet you are—just for me?’ I feel instantly empty as he pulls away, rubbing the evidence between his glistening fingers and thumb before bringing them to his mouth. The noise he makes is so fucking dirty, I find myself lifting my hips as though I could pull closer, pull him in.
‘Ben, please,’ I pant, unable to keep still.
‘I’ll never tire of hearing you say that.’ His smirk is something else to add to this maddening effect he has over me.
‘Ben, please,’ I plead, ‘stop playing. Please, get a condom. Please just fuck me.’
He stares at me for a beat. As though he can’t quite discern my meaning, or my words are a foreign language to him. His expression firms, his hands on my thighs gripping tight as he inhales a deep breath. Fingers release, feet move. He grabs his wallet from near the sink, turning back to face me and smirking quite suddenly.
‘Were you staring at my arse?’
‘Fair’s fair,’ I answer. ‘Like I haven’t caught you staring at mine.’
He slaps the leather wallet down by my thigh, his long fingers tearing the condom wrapper. Watching him sheath himself makes my stomach twist, the kind of sensation that demands relief. Did I ever watch Liam with this kind of avarice? This kind of need?
‘You do like to watch.’ Holding the root of his cock, he stares up at me through those thick lashes. ‘What I wouldn’t give to feel you skin to skin.’
‘Ben...’
‘On my life,’ he begins, his big hands stilling my thighs. ‘On Mel’s—I would cut off my right arm rather than risk hurting you.’
Maybe I’m just another woman foolish over a man, but I believe him. And I’m desperate to relieve this ache, so I whisper my answer to him.
‘I’m on the pill. Take it off.’
I don’t have to tell him twice. He inhales a deep breath, taking himself in his hand to glide the head against me once, twice. We both watch as he breaches my wetness.
‘Oh.. . oh ..’ Oh. My. God.
‘Fuck,’ he grunts, watching my body accept his. ‘So fucking snug.’ My back bows in a silent urge for him to thrust.
‘Oh.. . oh ...’I wouldn’t win any prizes for scintillating wit right now.
‘Jesus.’ Ben pulls back, and with one solid thrust, he fills me to his hilt.
Our breathing is rapid, our exchange of smiles speaking our words. He starts to move, slowly at first, easing me into the size of him.
