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A groan escaped his lips as she pushed him inside, her flesh slowly swallowing his with a silky snugness which was incredibly pleasurable. He braced himself mentally against what it would feel like when she moved. He didn’t want to come too soon. Hell, no. That would never do!
Jess had been right. It felt incredible with him deep inside her, filling her totally. He obviously liked it too, judging by the look on his face. Though was it rapture she was seeing, or torture? A mixture of both, she imagined. Men could be very impatient at this stage. So she kept her movements slow and gentle at first, lifting her hips only slightly before lowering herself down again. But it wasn’t long before her own desire for satisfaction took over, urging her to lift her hips higher, then to plunge down harder. She tried not to think about anything but her sexual pleasure, valiantly ignoring the emotional responses which hovered at the edges of her brain. This wasn’t love, she told herself firmly. This was just sex. Great sex, yes, with an utterly gorgeous man. But still just sex. Enjoy it, girl. Because you could go the rest of your life without finding a lover like Ben.
Their coming together distracted her totally from any thought of love, her own orgasm so intense that all she could think about were the physical sensations. The electric pleasure of each spasm, plus the wonderful relief from the tension which had gripped her all evening. Finally, when it was over, every pore in her body succumbed to a huge wave of languor. She collapsed across him, totally spent, sighing a long, sated sigh when he wrapped his arms around her, his lips in her hair.
‘That was fantastic,’ he whispered. ‘You’re fantastic.
‘No, don’t move,’ he said when she tried to lift her head. ‘I want to fall asleep like this, with me still inside you. My only regret is that we can’t do it again. I’m just too damned tired all of a sudden. But I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I promise. Just stay where you are, you delicious thing. Stay,’ he repeated, his voice slurring a little.
Within thirty seconds, he’d fallen asleep.
Less than a minute later, she followed him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BEN WOKE TO the smell of bacon cooking, plus no Jess in bed with him. Hell, he’d really passed out last night. And slept for a good ten hours, he realised with amazement as he glanced at his watch. And whilst he regretted not waking—he hadn’t intended sex with Jess to be so short and swift—the long sleep had done him a lot of good. His shoulder was one hundred percent better and he felt marvellous.
Ben fairly leapt out of bed, calling a hurried, ‘Good morning,’ out to Jess before bolting for the bathroom. After a very quick shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist, then made his way to the kitchen, anxious to see Jess again. She glanced over her shoulder as he walked in, her lovely eyes lighting up at the sight of him.
‘You look good in a towel,’ she said, smiling.
‘And you look good in anything,’ he returned, his gaze raking over her from top to toe. She was wearing the same fitted black trousers again, but her top was different, a simple scoop-necked sweater in a bright-green colour which suited her dark hair and olive skin. She wasn’t wearing any make-up and her hair was up, secured on top of her head in a rather haphazard fashion. On closer inspection, he could see she’d wrapped it around itself in a knot, a few bits and pieces already escaping. Her lack of artifice continued to enchant him. Amber was always fully made up and her hair groomed to perfection before showing herself in the morning.
Jess made Amber look terribly shallow. And impossibly vain.
‘Flatterer,’ she said, laughing, then turned back to the stove.
‘That smells good,’ he said, coming up behind her to slide his arms around her waist.
Jess tried not to stiffen at his touch, having determined to act naturally with him. It had been difficult not to ogle his beautiful body when he’d come into the kitchen just now, but she’d managed, telling herself all the while that a sophisticated New York woman wouldn’t ogle. She would sail through the morning after the night before with style and panache. She wouldn’t ask for reassurances that he wanted more from her than sex. She would be pleasant and easy going. Slightly flirtatious, yes, but nothing heavy.
So, when Ben placed a hand under her chin and turned her face towards his, she hid her momentary panic and let him kiss her. Fortunately, it wasn’t too deep, too long a kiss. But, oh…how her heart raced, her head instantly filling with images of him scattering everything off the kitchen table with one sweep of his arm and taking her on it then and there.
