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What started as a kiss to break the tension quickly becomes the kiss that sends me reeling. I lean the entirety of my body against him, my hips close enough to feel his erection. His hands move to my waist, then to my backside where he cups my cheeks and grinds against me.
Flames lick at my flesh and before I know it, Ben is lifting me onto the kitchen counter. I hook my ankles behind his back and run my hands up and down his chest. I’m dizzy, feeling weak but also incredibly greedy. My fingers find his belt and I tug it loose, forcing Ben’s lips to pop away from mine.
He breathes in my face, swipes his thumb along my lower lip. Something dances in his umber eyes, maybe the same need I’m feeling. “Are you sure about this?”
I nod. “Surer than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.”
With a swift jerk his belt is loose. I tug it from the loops as he looks down and watches.
“You sure you’ve never done this?” he asks.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He doesn’t need convincing. His kiss, hungrier than before, has me seeing stars. He slides me off the counter and carries me down the hallway with my arms over his shoulders, legs still crossed behind his back.
I nuzzle his neck, taking in his scent.
And all of a fucking sudden, there Rigger is, my best friend, front and center of my thoughts. How many times did I imagine this scene … fantasize about him kissing me like this … holding me like this … all those years ago when I knew how attracted to Rigger I was but had myself convinced I should be with a female?
God.No.
I won’t think about my best friend when I’m with Ben.
He lays me on the bed, unbuttons his jeans, kicks them aside, tugs his shirt up and over his head.
I sit up on my elbows, admiring his body, every muscle, every strand of hair.
He straddles me, knees on either side of my thighs, then reaches up and unclasps his necklace, reaching over and laying it on a dusty bedside table.
“You don’t have to—please don’t take that off just for me. I mean, takehimoff.”
Ohmygod.
I close my eyes, wondering if those words actually just came out of my mouth.
But I can tell he’s fighting a smile when I open them again.
“It’s fine, Tove. I want to.”
“Okay,” I answer, putting that thought out of my head.
And then … holyshit. My body shudders as he pops the button of my pants loose, unzips, then peels the material down my legs with an urgent sort of huff.
I sit up and pull my shirt off and he’s on the bed again, his body covering mine.
“Nervous?” he asks, brushing some hair away from my forehead.
“Yes. And no.”
“Maybe I can relax you.”
He does. God, he does.
His mouth leaves a trail of kisses along my neck, chest, and down my tummy. He peels my underwear off with the patience of a saint. But then that same mouth that took its time navigating south is suddenly greedy, devouring my folds as though it were an Olympic sport.
He isn’t rough, he’s gentle, but he leaves no stone unturned, licking every square inch of my femininity and making me aware of erotic zones I didn’t even know existed.
His tongue and fingers explore every crevice, setting my body on fire. My orgasm comes swift and hard and tugs a deep moan from my throat that I hardly recognize as my own.
