I tried to calm my fluttering heart to take stock of what I’d learned tonight. One: Fiona called Ben about every fifteen minutes, which he completely ignored. Two: Ben was f**king hot and the most incredible kisser. Three: I was falling for him. Hard. This information made me feel excited and depressed all at once. He was out of my league, but was that going to stop me? Nope. No, it wasn’t. I’d gotten a taste, and there’d be no stopping me now.
6
Once inside my room, we were tangled limbs fighting to get closer as we moved across the floor. Ben’s big hands held my jaw so sweetly as his tongue made laps against mine. His commanding body forced my feet backward toward the bed.
My emotions were a combo of Let’s go make babies to Must. Stop. Kissing. Shutting off my brain, I allowed my hormones to take over. I kicked off my shoes, crawled onto the bed, and tugged him down on top of me.
His warm weight pressed me into the mattress and his mouth was everywhere. He nibbled on my collarbone, nipped gentle bites at my neck, and used his tongue to sweep a damp path over the tender skin. Holy hell, did he know what he was doing.
Ben’s rough hand was suddenly under my shirt, cupping my breast and rubbing his thumb along my nipple. A bolt of desire zipped through my body. My hips moved against his, pressing against the firm ridge there, and a broken plea tumbled from his lips and into my mouth. It was the sweetest sound. Desperate and wanting, exactly like I felt. I was glad I wasn’t alone in that.
His palm found my ass again and squeezed, hauling me closer. I felt his thick erection press into my lower belly, and my insides went all molten.
“Do you have a condom?” His voice was low, raw with need.
“No,” I choked out.
“I have some in my room.” He continued moving his hips against mine.
I wanted this, I did. But my mind was reeling. Once he’d been inside me, there would be no turning back. My schoolgirl crush would be catapulted into outer space so far that I’d never come down. I needed to keep my wits about me. I just didn’t sleep with men I wasn’t dating.
“No,” I managed.
“No?” His tone told me he wondered if I wanted him bare. And the hint of a smile on his lips told me this idea was a welcomed one.
“I’m not ready for all this. . . .” My body was in complete disagreement with my brain, my legs winding their way around his backside to press him closer.
Ben groaned at the contact. “Come on, baby, let me f**k you.” He breathed against my neck. “I promise it’ll feel good.” He gripped my ass, pushing his erection against the damp spot between my legs, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my throat.
“That’s not a good idea. We work together,” I managed.
“Fuck work. Let me get you off.”
His deep, sexy voice and the grinding of his hips were almost enough to convince me. Almost. “We can do some other things. But no sex.” I didn’t even know what I was saying, but I was certain which part of me was controlling my mouth. My throbbing sex. Ben had gotten me soaking wet and needy, and we’d barely rounded second base. Talk about playing out of my league.
His gaze met mine and he swept the hair back from my face. “I like other things.”
“Yeah?” I was thankful he’d followed my line of thinking and didn’t make me spell it out.
“Yes. And I think you’ll find I excel at them. Particularly oral.” His deep-set gaze was directed my way and that full, pouty mouth was just inches from mine. . . .
Holy. Crap. The look on his face. I was defenseless. “Umm . . . we’ll see about that, Mr. Shaw.”
He fixed me with an intense stare and leaned in close, his nose brushing past my jaw. I felt him inhale against my neck. “I wonder if you taste good.” His low whisper caused heat to drift from my neck and pool at the base of my spine. His warm, wet tongue slid against my neck and I whimpered in response at the sudden, heated, longing ache between my thighs.
His hand slid down the front of my jeans and into my panties. “Fuck. You’re soaking wet, baby.” He kissed my throat, his breath tickling my ear. “I know you want me to f**k you. But we’ll do things your way this time, okay?”
His fingers slid against me, massaging the slick, swollen tissue. Pleasure rocketed through me. I’d fantasized about his touch, and now that it was actually happening it was beyond any expectations I’d had. His skilled fingers massaged my clit with just enough pressure and a lazy rhythm that allowed the pleasure to build slowly.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered. He palmed one breast while his other hand remained buried in my panties.
I was soft, with extra padding on my hips, thighs, and br**sts; my body was curvy and womanly, and though I would have thought this was a bad thing—especially for a toned and firm model like him—he seemed to like it.
He kissed a wet path across my neck as his hands explored. I should’ve stopped him but my mind was numb and my body was all kinds of lit up. I wanted more. I deserved more, didn’t I? I’d been the good girl for so long.
He slid one long finger inside me and I whimpered, arching my back. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you?” He kissed my neck while his finger continued its slow progression, sliding in and out of me in a careful rhythm.
“Ben . . .” I groaned, frustrated by his measured strokes. I needed more.
“Tell me,” he growled.
“I need it harder.”