“Benji,” I whisper, barely a sound, more breath than voice.
His response is immediate—one hand sliding higher, steadying me, reminding me without words to keep quiet, to keep this between us.
Mine.
The thought flashes hot and fast through my mind, surprising me with its intensity.
Mine.
Like he’s still my man.
Like we’re still that.
Like we never stopped.
My fingers tighten, my body arching without permission, chasing something just out of reach, something he controls completely right now—and the realization sends another wave of heat through me.
I’m not in control.
He is.
And instead of fighting it?
I sink into it.
Let it take me.
Because this? This is what we’ve always been.
Too much.
Too fast.
Too intense.
And right now?
I don’t want to hold back.
I don’t want to think.
I just want to feel him.
And he gives me exactly that.
He kisses my inner thighs, teases me with his tongue licking around my vulva.
God, it’s so good. So sweet. And tender.
But I think I might die if he doesn’t do what he says he’s going to in the next minute.
Lucky for me, I don’t have to wait that long.
Because Benji doesn’t lead up to it when it comes to this—my pleasure.
Oh no. When he’s done getting me all worked up, he just dives in.
His mouth fastens over my pussy, and he starts to devour me.
