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"Only you, Ben," she confirms, her green eyes clear and shining up at me. "I’m all yours."
"Promise?" I ask her, suddenly vulnerable.
“Promise,” she nods.
I push into her slowly as I kiss her, sealing the vow with a kiss that's more than just lips and tongue—it's a promise, an unspoken commitment that we're crossing a threshold together.
We move together, a rhythm born of instinct and desire, pushing each other higher, chasing a climax that promises to shatter us both. And when her fingers clutch at my shoulders, nails digging in just enough to anchor her to reality, I know we're close.
"Kate," I say, my voice a ragged whisper filled with reverence and awe. "You're incredible."
She responds not with words, but with a look of pure abandon, letting go and trusting me to catch her. And I do—I catch her, support her, lift her as we spiral into that place where ecstasy blurs the lines between two people and for a moment, just a moment, we're one.
The intensity of the moment is almost too much to bear, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. This is what it means to be alive—to feel so much for another person that you forget yourself, lose yourself, find yourself all at once.
The world narrows to just the two of us, every sensation magnified a thousandfold. Kate's breathless moans crescendo as we chase that peak together, her body gripping me with an urgency that drives me wild.
"Fuck, Kate," I gasp, feeling the pressure build at the base of my spine, that sweet, torturous tension that begs for release.
"Ben...oh God, Ben!" Her voice breaks on my name, her nails scoring my back in a way that sends a jolt straight to my core. I'm so damn close, teetering on the edge of something monumental, and when she tightens around me, that's all it takes.
"Kate!" The word is a guttural groan torn from deep within me as pleasure rips through my body in a blinding flash, white-hot and all-consuming. I feel her shudder beneath me, her own climax washing over her in a tidal wave that pulls a raw scream from her throat.
Our bodies shake, quivering together in violent spasms of ecstasy, each pulse and throb drawing out the intense, staggering sensations until we're both drained, spent, and completely fucking undone.
We collapse onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and slick skin still joined where it matters most. My heart thunders against my ribs, trying to escape my chest, while Kate's breathing is jagged, matching mine beat for erratic beat. We lie there, slick with sweat, her chest heaving against mine.
Slowly, as our panting subsides into quieter breaths, I roll to the side, careful not to crush her. Our eyes meet, hers still shimmering with that post-orgasmic haze that makes them look greener than ever. There's a softness there, a vulnerability that she doesn't show the world—the real Kate that I've come to crave more than my next breath.
"Wow," she whispers, her lips curving into a dazed smile, and I can't help but echo it with one of my own.
"Understatement of the century," I reply, brushing a damp lock of hair from her forehead. The air between us is thick with more than just desire now. It's laced with something deeper, a connection that can't be faked or forced.
"Ben," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it feels like she's shouting. Because in that single syllable, there's love, there's contentment, there's a promise of more—more laughs, more whispered secrets, more tangled sheets.
"Kate," I say back, matching her tone, letting her name linger on my tongue like a fine wine. And in that moment, it's clear. This isn't just a fling.
It's the beginning of everything.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Ben
"Careful, you might make me think you like me," I tease, nudging Kate gently with my shoulder as we sink into the plush couch. The private airport lounge feels like a little bubble of peace after the long haul we've just endured. Our flight was endless, but now, here with her, every cramped hour seems worth it.
I let my arm drape across her shoulders, pulling her in so our sides press tight. Her head finds the familiar nook beneath my chin, and a contented sigh escapes her lips, sending tingles straight to my heart—or maybe someplace lower.
"Ben Caldwell," she whispers, tracing a finger along the line of my jaw, "you sure know how to make a girl forget she's got the weight of the world on her sequined gown."
"Only the best for you, Kate Woodbridge," I say, feeling a grin stretch wide across my face. "You dazzle the masses, but all I want is to be your quiet place."
We're locked in our own little world, a cocoon woven from shared warmth and whispered promises. But even secluded spots have eyes, and I sense we're not as alone as we think.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Marilyn Lancaster. She's leaned against a pillar, her arms folded, and her gaze fixed on us. Her expression is unreadable—no, scratch that—it's suspicious, as if she's trying to decode some secret message written between the lines of our body language.
"Looks like we've got company," I murmur to Kate, nodding towards Marilyn without breaking our embrace. "Guard dog's got her eyes on us."
