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“That what you want?” He knows it is, but he’s going to make me say it. Own it. “Tell me.”
I’m trembling now, his dirty talk making me clench with need. “Please. Taste me.”
He brings his thumb to my swollen folds, brushing them open with an impossibly light touch for such rough hands. His breath reaches my most sensitive spot, and a heartbeat later, his tongue dabs at my clit. He hums his approval.
My fingers knot in his hair, and he groans again like it’s what he’s been waiting for. And maybe it is because the second I do it, he sinks in, kissing my pussy like he’s making love to it.
He runs his tongue over and through me, circling and teasing with the flat before firming it into a point he drags back to my opening where he presses in, lapping and thrusting and swirling around my inner walls.
“Taste so fucking sweet. Can’t get enough.”
Me either. But— “Ben, please. I want you.”
Just once. One more time in my life, I want to feel this man inside me. I want him to hold me up and give me his body while his heart beats against mine.
It’s not what we talked about. But the damage is already done. The plan foiled.
Being with him is even better than it was the first time.
“You want me to fuck you, Lara?” He growls against me, and my leg starts to shake.
“Yes,” I gasp, clenching in anticipation.
And then it’s his finger teasing through my wetness. “I’m gonna. But not until you come on my tongue.”
He pierces me again and again, pausing to tell me how sweet I am, how hot I make him, how he needs it. Needs me to give it to him. And when he returns to my clit, drawing it between his lips to suck and then suck harder?—
“Ben!” I cry, coming apart as he relentlessly pushes me further, carrying me through wave after wave of release until the last bit of pleasure has been wrung free.
Ben turns his head to kiss my inner thigh and then surges to his feet in front of me.
“Inside me,” I pant, and he nods, the urgency between us at a fever peak.
He tears open the square wrapper he must have pulled from his wallet at some point and rolls it on in a blur I can probably attribute to all those maybe true, maybe exaggerated rumors. I send up a silent thanks to the scores of women who have come before, because the man is proficient and doesn’t make me wait.
And then my arms are around his neck and he’s taking me by the hips, lifting me so we align in the place I need him to be.
“Tell me,” he grits out, his length sliding back and forth through my sensitized folds before notching himself at my opening.
I’m shaking, my body on fire. I don’t know how it’s even possible to be this desperate when I’ve just come harder than I have in the last eight years. But I need him. “Please.”
And this man, who has never in my life let me down, doesn’t now. Before I can even draw a breath, he’s pushing inside. And then I forget breathing altogether because nothing has ever felt this good in my life and every single part of me is focused on the give of my body as Ben stretches me to take him.
He knows he’s big and goes slow as he works inside, withdrawing and then driving in another inch, giving my body the chance to adjust before giving me more. And that wicked, slow advance when I’m this wet, this sensitive, has me trembling beneath his pleasurable assault.
Ben is silent, his grip on my hips tightening in a way that works as well as his dirty talk when he was on his knees.
He sinks deep and deeper, straining my inner walls with the most decadently intense pressure until there isn’t any more room at all.
My muscles spasm around him, gripping and grasping as I lift my eyes to meet his.
And the instant our eyes connect, I feel it through every part of me. My heart clenches, my throat goes tight, and my body gives up another bit of space to take just that much more of him.
“Ben,” I whisper, my voice unsteady.
“I got you,” he murmurs into that scant space between us, giving me longer strokes, harder contact, full-length thrusts that steal my breath and make me cling to his shoulders.
“Want to feel you come.” I gasp at his ear. “Want you to lose control for me.”
