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How can eyes as dark as his look so bright?
His hand comes up to my body. The moment his fingertips touch my skin, I close my eyes, overcome with sensitivity.
“Open them.”
My eyes flap open and reel onto his. “Sorry?”
“I want you to watch me watch you.”
I swallow hard. My heart beats so furiously right now. “I am.”
As he says the words, his hand slowly starts to slide up the side of my body. I’m about to close my eyes again, but then find myself desperate to obey him, keeping my hard gaze on him. His eyes are drinking in the sight of me as his hand softly explores.
The salty air dances over my skin. His fingertips cast waves of excitement through my body, goosebumps coming to life up and down my arms.
And I keep staring into his eyes, just like he ordered.
And he keeps running his hand along my skin, exploring me like he’s never touched another man before. Maybe in some way, this is his first time, too.
When his hand reaches my chest, his fingers play across my nipple gently. I groan and clench shut my eyes, terribly sensitive to his touch.
“Eyes, Trevor.”
I flick them open. “With what you’re doing to me …” I start to say, warning him.
“I don’t want you to miss a second of seeing what you do to me. You need to see the effect you have on other men. You need to see it firsthand and believe it when I say how beautiful you are.”
These words, coming from the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on, have officially melted the inner parts of me that no masseuse could dream to touch. I’m officially one hundred percent pudding in the hands of the man I’ve come to trust so deeply.
The realization hits me like a sudden gust of wind off the sea. I trust Benjamin Gage.
I’m about to trust him with the greatest thing a person can.
“I’m ready,” I tell him.
“Good. Be ready. I want you ready and wanting it so badly that you’re squirming.” Benjamin’s voice is cocky, yet sweet somehow. His confidence emboldens me, and his compassion warms me—which is a good thing, because despite the flames, the wind off the ocean is starting to kick up a mean chill.
Then his hand slides to my other nipple, which is already hard from the cool breeze.
I shudder under his touch, but keep my eyes trained on him.
“Squirming,” I groan.
“Not yet.” He sits up and brings his other hand to join the party on my skin. I breathe deeply, trusting him despite my urgent need for something relieving to happen. I have succeeded in filling my underwear to full capacity—or rather, he’s succeeded. I have a very strong desire to set my cock free.
He tore me apart once in his office, taking full charge of me. He stole me away into a bathroom stall. He owned me in his high-rise apartment, taking what he declared was his.
And now he’s treating me like a precious glass ornament.
Maybe I’m not so precious as he thinks.
“Ben.”
“Yes, Trevor?”
“I don’t want you to woo me. I don’t need the strawberries and chocolate and sweetness. I know who you really are.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I bite my lip and stare into his eyes. “Take me, Ben.”
Instantly, he slips a hand around my back, yanks me against him, and brings his mouth to mine. I gasp once, a tiny breath, and then I’m hopeless to get another breath with his powerful kiss.
We topple over, wrestling one another, shirtless, pants and legs entangling as we roll over and over, making out madly.
My back hits the bowl of chocolate. I have no idea if any gets on me.
Then we roll over again, and suddenly I’m on top of him as he lands on the plate of strawberries, splatting a handful of them beneath his weight and appearing for a second like our making out has caused a fatal wound to his backside.
Yeah, I’ve busted a strawberry red hole through his dam of emotion. All I see in his wet eyes is feeling, watching as he devours me with every kiss and wrestles me with aggressive force.
Straddling him with his fatal wound of strawberries beneath his body, I look down into his eyes, his wet and needy eyes. There’s no more waiting left in me. I’m all out of patience.
“Ben, I need you inside me.”
His eyes flash with surprise. “Oh? Do you, now?”
“I want to know what it feels like. Please, Ben. Make me yours. It’s all I want.”
He lifts his eyebrows, appearing genuinely surprised as he appraises me. “Are you sure you can handle me?”
Ugh, the way he says that is so hot.
I’m nervous, I’m not going to lie. I have no idea if I’m going to fuck it all up and embarrass myself. But I’m excited, too.
