AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You lie so effortlessly. You told me you loved me, and yet what is love when there’s not honesty? All the while we dated, and we seduced one another with this...” he dipped his head and placed a kiss at the base of her neck, making her shudder in response “neither of us knew the others’ name.”
“You knew my name,” she pointed out breathily.
“Not because you told me.” He lent back so that her body dipped and she was lying with her head in his lap, with his face directly above hers. She chewed on her lower lip.
“Hey,” he gently eased himself out from beneath her and came to kneel across her hips. “I didn’t want to start another fight. Let’s share tonight, and in a few days, this will all be behind us both. We can each get on with the rest of our lives.”
He sounded like he was counting down to that, whereas the thought put Cassandra into a cold sweat. She lowered her lashes to hide the turmoil his words evoked, but when she blinked and looked up at him, there was a smile playing around her lips.
He’d broken her heart, and he was going to break it even more in two days time when he walked away from her for good. He was wrong about love, because only the deepest love could have made her accept what he proposed. One night, with the man she loved with all her heart, was too tempting to refuse. He would go, and she would die a little inside, but they’d always have this night.
Her smile deepened until her eyes were twinkling up at him. “You said we have off-the-charts sexual chemistry?” She asked teasingly, snaking her hands up to his shirt and lifting it a little, so that she could touch the exposed warmth of his taut stomach.
“Mmm,” he agreed throatily, leaning forward so that he could kiss her lips hungrily. “Of course, I could have been wrong.”
“Entirely possible,” she agreed between kisses.
“There’s only one way to know for sure,” he responded, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth. “Come.” His black eyes held a challenge. This was her last chance to back away, he was saying, but she wasn’t going anywhere. She laced her fingers through his and together they walked as quickly as they could to the enormous bedroom beneath deck.
Once inside, he pulled her to him, moulding her body to his strong planes. His arms ran over her back and her own tangled in his dark hair, pulling his head down as though she were drowing and he was oxygen. His throaty chuckle as he gently nudged her back onto the bed was like fire in her veins.
She was wearing a pale pink shirt that she’d bought at the Bondi markets a few months ago. It was floaty and oversized and made her feel like a hippy peasant. She loved it. He lifted it over her head, watching her face as the fabric brushed against her skin. He tossed it down onto the floor beside them and narrowed his eyes as he looked at her properly. It was as if he was committing everything about this night to memory, knowing it was their last time. Through the sheer beige lace of her bra, he thumbed her nipples, feeling them tauten beneath the coarse fabric. He cupped each breast, feeling them, memorising them, and then slid the bra down, reaching behind her to unclip it effortlessly.
Cassandra’s eyes were dreamy as they watched his face, his expression was one of pure entrancement. He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth, flicking her pink flesh with his tongue, running his palm over the other breast, making butterflies swarm in a frenzy inside her belly.
“I want to feel you, too,” she muttered, impatiently trying to lift his shirt off.
“Shhhhh,” he whispered, lifting his head so he could look at her. “All in good time, ma petite.”
His firm fingers found the waistband of her denim cut off shorts and he eased the button through the hole, then slowly pried the zipper down. Intent on her, he slid the jeans away, leaving her in only a tiny lacy scrap of underwear. His thumb brushed against the fabric, so tantalisingly close to her, and yet not close enough. She groaned deep in her throat, and he chuckled again. “I always liked how impatient you were for me,” he drawled, sliding her knickers off, running his hands down her legs as he followed their progress, then dropped them from the bed.
Cassandra had never felt self-conscious around Ben, and she didn’t around Benedict either. Completely as naked as the day she was born, she lay on the boat, her body awash with the sensations he’d aroused. Slowly, he traced a finger from the bone in her ankle, along the curve of her calf muscle, up her slender inner thigh, and then he parted her legs, making room for him. Still fully clothed, he pressed his lips against her, and she shuddered in pleasure as his tongue teased her, tasted her essence and aroused a need in her that was almost unbearable. He enjoyed watching her squirm, feeling her body convulse as he drove her nearer and nearer the point of total release. When she was almost thrashing the bed with the need for release, he brought her over the edge, skilfully tipping her into a heavenly abyss of physical satisfaction.
She stared up at the plain white ceiling, waiting for the world to tip back onto its normal axis. “Ben...” she groaned, and pulled at his shoulders, needing him close to her. He came to kneel on top of her, his face so handsome it almost hurt. She ran her finger along his chiselled cheek bone into the cleft in his chin.
“I am going to miss this,” he murmured, reaching up and pulling his shirt off.
Sex, she thought emptily. She would miss it, too. This, and so much more. She would miss everything about Ben, and some things about Benedict, too.
“Naked.” She said huskily, looking at his pants. “I expect you naked.”
“Apparently I’m not the only bossy one,” he said, tossing her a grin as he stood and stripped his shorts and underwear. Naked he was, quite simply, superb. His long legs were muscled and tapered to narrow hips, a six pack of abs, and broad shoulders. She had always felt so safe with Ben, not least because he could have taken on a pack of street kids with his pinkie finger alone. It was ironic that she’d felt so safe with him, all the while she’d been giving him everything he needed to hurt her more than anyone else on earth.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she forced herself to concentrate instead on the here an
d now. Ben brought his head to hers, and placed his lips gently on her forehead. “I’m going to miss you, too, Cass,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. They were the last words she needed to hear, because they made her want to beg him to stay. Something she simply couldn’t do.
He wouldn’t stay, and she’d never be able to forgive herself for showing her weakness. Her dependency on him.
“What are you waiting for?” She asked, batting her eyelids up at him.
He threw his head back and laughed. “I want to savour you, sweet Cassandra,” he said against her neck.
Her hands had crept low on his body, and now she wrapped her fingers around his erection, feeling the strength of it with hunger. Her finger ran across the tip, and the moistness there gave her a shudder of excitement. She pushed her hips up and rotated them. Ripples of excitement tore through her as he found her entrance and nudged inside, only a little way, teasing her, tempting her, torturing her.
She dug her fingers into his buttocks and squeezed the smooth, tight flesh there. With a growl, he took her completely, entering her swiftly, exclaiming as her slick core flexed to surround him.
Benedict Savarin was not lacking bedroom experience. He’d lost his virginity early, and the ease with which he attracted women had increased with age, experience, confidence and looks. He knew he could please a woman. Delighted in it. His stamina was a point of personal pride. But with Cassandra, he was a lost cause. Her little whimpers in the back of her throat, her frenzied head turning, the way her muscles contracted hungrily about him... it took an epic amount of self-control to please her as he wanted to, before spilling into her like a man possessed. Their release was simultaneous, their pleasure exquisite.
