Sweet baby Jesus, I was already out of my depth. I thought of our sexy texts and a hot shiver raced down my spine. No one could turn me on the way this man could.
He nudged against me and I suddenly worried if he would fit. I lowered myself onto him and sank down slowly. Inch by agonizing inch as he stretched me. I was completely overtaken by the sudden feeling of fullness. Sucking in a sharp breath, I closed my eyes and gripped his shoulders as he slowly but completely filled me. Ben’s large hand on my hip guided, encouraged, and his dark eyes watched mine. His hips moved up off the bed, filling me and retreating so his thick c**k dragged slowly in and out of me. The sensation was incredible. Too much, yet not enough at the same time.
I sat up straight, rotating my hips in tiny circles, unable to stop the whimpers tumbling from my lips. I increased my movements, sliding up and down, and his eyes dropped closed. A surge of pride swelled within me. Each time I sank lower and was completely filled, the pleasure burst into a new sensation. Raw need consumed me and my rhythm increased against him.
“Bennn . . .” His name was perfect for moaning and I used it to my advantage, repeating it like a mantra each time he hit the right spot.
His hands reached behind me, unclasping my bra, and removing it from my arms as I moved against him. He sat up to take my breast in his mouth, licking and sucking as I bounced with our movement.
I was only faintly aware that the lights burned brightly overhead, and while it should have made me self-conscious, it didn’t. I wanted to watch this beautiful man. With him I felt alive. There was no room for self-consciousness to creep in around the edges. I let go of all inhibitions and moved against him, crying out his name in a litany of mumbled whimpers.
“Enough.” He sat up and moved me under him in one quick motion. The man had strength to him. The edge to his voice and his serious expression made me wonder if I’d done something wrong. “No more playing. I need to f**k you hard now.”
Oh.
He moved my legs, arranged them so I was completely open for his perusal, and then he pushed forward, sinking into me, invading my body with his. My breath caught in my throat and I struggled for air.
“Fuck, Emmy. You feel good.” His eyes were dark, his lips parted, and his breathing was fast. This man who was always in perfect control was losing it. For me. I arched my back as the pleasure coursed through me.
There was always a delicate guessing game the first time I was intimate with someone new: wondering how long he would last, if he would warn me before he came, if he’d be loud about it, or completely silent. With Ben, I didn’t have to guess.
“This tight little pu**y’s going to make me come too fast.” His pace slowed, dragging his length in and out of me slowly. He moved his hand between us and pressed his thumb firmly to my clit. I cried out loudly, moving my hips.
I loved how he knew to slow to an almost stop for me to completely enjoy the sensations blossoming inside me. My tight walls clung to him, pulsing and gripping as pleasure exploded deep inside.
“Bennn . . .” I breathed.
His hand pulled away and his strokes slowed, milking the second orgasm from my body.
Once I quieted, his pace picked up and he pumped into me several times hard and fast. He buried his face in my neck, kissing me softly as he came. “Emmy.”
The deep, broken quality of his voice against my neck undid me. I was falling for him. He could own me completely, use me for his plaything, and I wouldn’t care. That realization sent panic racing through me.
What was I even doing? This wasn’t me.
I pulled away from the warm cocoon of his body. “Ben, we can’t do this. . . . Fiona will fire me. . . .”
His brow drew together. “Who I f**k is none of Fiona’s business.”
“That’s good.” Actually it stung like hell. “Because she hates me, and I wouldn’t want anything to affect your bookings.”
He smiled at me like I was a small child. “I can handle Fiona.”
All of this was too much. I needed out of this room. “I should probably go.” I leapt from the bed, gathering my clothes.
He sat up, confusion apparent in his features. His lips, always full and sensual, were swollen and slightly pink, his breathing still too fast. I almost felt bad leaving him like this. Almost. Until I realized I was in just as ragged a state. My heart was f**king pounding and I was woozy, not from the alcohol but from him. He was intoxicating. And apparently there was nothing between us but the physical act. It wasn’t enough. I stepped into my still damp panties and slid them up my legs.
“Okay.” He didn’t try to stop me, and I wasn’t sure what that meant, but a pang of disappointment settled in my chest. I pulled my dress into place and tucked my hair behind my ears. He rose from the bed and walked me to the door. Slipping into my shoes, I rushed through the open door.
“Emmy.” His low voice washed over me in a way that was both familiar and intoxicating.
I spun to face him.
His expression had softened, turned more serious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’ll see you in the morning. Your call time is eight thirty,” I mumbled, still weak and shaky from our erotic encounter.
Frown lines settled around that sensuous mouth. “I know. Gunnar told me.”
“Well, good night.” I disappeared down the hall, trying to forget the look on his face that couldn’t have possibly been disappointment.
• • •
When I reached my room, my heart and head were at war with my body. My body knew exactly what it wanted—Ben. My head knew I should draw a professional line between us and maintain it. My heart fluttered, a giddy fool at the thought of him. That was bad. I paced my hotel room, my legs still jelly from the thorough f**king he’d given me. There was no way I’d be able to sleep yet. I was still tipsy from the vodka, and my hormones were raging.