But something stops me. I don’t want Ben to have to give in. I don’t want him to do this if he’s not truly ready.
So I kiss him softly instead. “Let’s wait until we both feel comfortable.”
He nods, relief washing over him. “Yes, I think that’s a good plan.”
I drop my hand an inch lower. “Maybe for tonight, we could do this instead?” My fingers dance to find what I’m looking for. “It’s not actually going all the way.”
“Not going all the wayistaking it slowly, if you thinkabout it.” His eyes flutter closed and his hand reaches for mine, guiding me to stroke him with more pressure. He groans, his forehead falling to mine. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?”
“Fuck yes you can.”
He laughs as his lips find mine again. This kiss is deep and dirty, and I whimper with aching for him.
“Where did you learn to kiss like that, Dr. Loving?” I ask when we finally come up for air.
His mouth moves down the column of my neck. “The only person I want to be thinking about right now, Cam, is you.”
A few minutes later, I can’t even remember my own name. Ben tugs the fabric of my shirt aside, his lips tracing the faintest path over the curve of my breasts before his tongue swirls over the peaked bud of my nipple. The contact makes me gasp and I don’t ever want him to stop, yet I need that mouth in other places.
Ben’s fingers dance down the expanse of my stomach, dipping into my waistband. “Is this okay?”
“Fuck, Ben, everything is okay. Please touch me.”
A sheepish smile tugs on his lips as his fingers drift lower.
I grasp both the pants and my underwear and shove them down to my knees. I haven’t been this horny for someone in a long time, and I need some pressure, some relief before I go absolutely mad.
Ben drags a single finger over me, his sheepish smile turning to something that looks a little like awe. “You’re so wet, sweetheart.”
I take his hand in mine, trying to direct him where Ineed him most. “I want you, Ben. Have I not made that clear up to this point?”
His finger circles my clit as he watches me, finding the perfect spot, the one that makes my breath freeze in my lungs. “It’s nice to hear you say it.”
“I want you, Ben. Please touch me, give me more.” My voice is breathless and borderline pornlike, but I don’t care. He pulls his touch from me, and I glare at him. “That is the opposite of more.”
He chuckles, his hands dragging down my legs to where my pants still rest at my knees. He removes them completely, tossing them to the side and pushing my legs open. “Patience is a virtue.”
“We both know I’m not exactly vir—” The word gets caught in my throat when his tongue slips through my folds, tracing me, opening me. My back bows off the couch, pressing me closer to his mouth.
He groans and the vibration of it sends a bolt of heat through me. My hips buck, but he doesn’t stop his total assault of my senses. He licks and teases until my vision is hazy. My fingers lock in his hair, holding him to me, not that he shows any intention of breaking away. He slides first one finger, then another into me and I cry out at the fullness. Then his lips focus in on my clit, sucking until I see stars and I completely shatter beneath him, calling his name over and over as the orgasm rockets through me.
His licks turn gentle and almost soothing as I come down from the highest of highs. He kisses a trail up over my stomach. When he’s within reach, I take his face in my hands, kissing him deep enough to taste myself lingering on his tongue.
“Holy shit,” I say, putting enough space between us so I can look him in the eye. “I might actually need to know who taught you that so I can send them a thank-you present.”
He laughs, kissing me again, lighter this time. He holds his weight off of me, but I tug him down, reveling in the feel of being pressed beneath him. He’s still hard, and I rock against the length of him, far fewer layers separating us now.
“Can I touch you?” It’s a question I don’t know that I’ve explicitly asked before. Anytime I’ve been in this position in the past, it was clear to both parties exactly what was going to be happening. But with Ben, I don’t want to push things. I know there is more at stake here than a one-night hookup, and I can think of nothing worse than him waking up tomorrow and regretting what happened here on this couch.
He hesitates for only a second before he nods. “Please, sweetheart. Have your way with me.”
“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.” I flash him a wicked smile, rotating us so he’s lying flat on his back. Normally I rush through this part of the equation, but with Ben, I want to take my time. I want to find the spots that make him shiver, find the best way to bring him pleasure. I want to make him feel as good as he made me feel.
Which might be the most selfless thing I’ve ever thought.
Also, it will be fun to torture him.
I tug on his sweatshirt, yanking the whole thing over his head. I take my time, taking him in. The lean muscles of his stomach are defined, his chest covered with asmattering of dark hair. My fingers trace over the lines of his pecs, down to his abs, hovering over the vee pointing me south.
