He smiles. “I want to make sure you know that.”
I smile.
He grabs my face. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
I look down, not knowing what to do with the compliment. “Are you still dying on the inside?” I tap his chest. “Internally?”
His smile widens. “The moment you stop kissing me, I will be.”
I lean in. “Well, then––” I peck his lips. He stares into my eyes and grabs my neck again. He kisses me back over and over again until our tongues tie, and I’m moaning against him.
We explore each other’s mouths for minutes. I didn’t know a mouth could do so many things, and he’s not holding back. He’ll focus on my bottom lip and then focus on our tongues. It’s all new discoveries that I start to feel lightheaded. My hands find the hem of his shirt and touch his stomach.
He chuckles again in my mouth. “Fuck. Your hands are soft.”
“And your abs are firm.”
“Don’t stop touching me,” he says, so my hands continue to feel him while our lips dance.
His hands have gotten bolder. They snake around my ribs, teasing right below my bra. I’m aching when his finger slips underneath and pulls at my nipple. I Camdenthe heavily into his mouth.
“Benson,” I whimper.
He kisses me deeply, removing his hand. I catch it with my arm. “Why did you stop?”
He looks at me, putting the loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Do you want to do this?”
I nod. “Do you?”
He nods, so I tug at his shirt. “Take this off.”
His t-shirt comes off, and my jaw drops to the floor. I knew he was beautiful, but I hadn’t imagined what was under his shirt. His shoulders are broad, his chest is defined, and there is a line of dark hair below his navel disappearing into his jeans. He has asmall scar on the left side of his ribcage about three inches long, faded, old.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I realize I’m gawking. “Yeah. Sorry. I––”
He smirks. “Look as long as you want, babe.”
I look at him once more, and then I reach for my shirt and pull it over my head. I drop it on the floor next to his. His eyes twinkle as he looks down. I readjusted my cotton bra since his finger slid it up, and I’m self-conscious that I’m not as ripped as he is. Under my jeans are stretch marks on my hips. I have a small mole on the left side of my ribcage.
But it all rushes out of my head when his hands find my waist, and he kisses me again. I melt into him this time because his bare chest presses against me. I fall under a dizzy spell when his lips trail down the side of my face, to my neck, and then my chest.
“Oh, God,” I moan. He’s using his tongue in some places, and then in others, he’s sucking my skin into his mouth. My jeans press against my pussy, making me rock my hips.
He kisses my cleavage gently, and my skin feels searing hot. Or maybe that’s his lips. I don’t know, but I let my head fall back, arching my back, pressing my cleavage into his face. He licks them, and I moan.
“Take this off,” he says, Camdenthless. He reaches for the clip but fails to remove it. I push my hair to the side and angle my arms to take it off.
“Here,” I mutter, pulling it free. My Camdensts fall from the bra, and a dark gaze takes over his eyes.
“Baby,” he whispers, looking at them and then at me. He uses two hands to grab them. He starts massaging them, rubbing my nipples between his fingers. I’ve never had my Camdensts played with before, and it dives straight to my core. He catchesmy lips, kissing me again with such force. I start swaying my hips against him, and he whimpers in my mouth.
“If you keep doing that, babe, I’m going to come.” His lips are off mine and in an instant, he’s flipping me onto my back.
I gasp from the feeling of falling, and then I’m pulling his hair because his hot mouth is on my nipples, sucking so hard that I think I’m about to orgasm.
“Benson!” I whimper.
