Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(25)

We moved again, this time into the bedroom.

“I had no f*cking business being inside you without protection anyway.”

“It felt good. Until it felt bad.”

“I know.”

A hand searched for the zip on the back of my dress, tugging it down. The air-conditioning hit my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Or maybe it was just the way he looked at me, all aggressive and tender at once. I was laid out on the mattress, Ben working busily to get me bare.

“We’re really not stopping?” I asked, lust burning bright once again. Not that it had ever really disappeared. How could it, with him around? My girl parts were sadly predictable like that.

“Fuck no.”

I smiled, wiggling and rolling this way and that, according to what would be most helpful. No hesitation. Off came my bra, the slick pointy-toed heels and thigh-high stockings, then he hovered over my fancy silk panties.

“What?” I asked, panting just a little.

Fingers stroked over the curves of my hips, my thighs. The man was probably used to models and starlets, women in no way normal. Of all times to get an attack of the nerves. I crossed my arms demurely over my bare breasts, biting at the inside of my cheek.

“Ben, what’s the problem?”

“No problem.” His gaze met mine. Then he noticed the crossed arms, covering my chest. “Don’t.”

My hands fluttered, unsure what to do.

He took hold of both wrists, bending over me to press them into the bed above my head.

“Keep ’em there,” he said, voice gruff, clipped, and eyes deadly serious. “’kay?”

“Okay.”

His hands traced down the length of my arms, over my armpits, then down my sides. The tension inside me seemed unbearable. My mind was whirling in circles, befuddled and aroused both. What was he going to do?

Thumbs hooked into the sides of my sole remaining piece of clothing and slowly dragged them down my legs. While his tickly bearded chin trailed down over my breastbone, between my pert breasts, and over my belly. Softly, he placed a kiss on my belly button, then dropped my underwear onto the floor.

“All good?” he asked.

“Y-yes.”

The man sank to his knees by the side of the bed, the palms of his hands stroking over my thighs. “Good.”

Without further preamble, he grabbed my hips, dragging me to the edge of the mattress to meet his waiting mouth. And yes, my legs were spread, they were wide open. With his head in the way, they had few other options. The feeling of his hot, eager mouth on my * … there were no words. Or at least, none sufficient to sum this up.

“Fuck. Ben.”

My back bowed, head pushing into the mattress. The pleasure was bigger than my body could contain. Every ounce of my consciousness was focused on the fast-building buzz between my legs. My heels pressed against his back through the fine material of his fancy dress shirt. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, holding me to him. As if I wanted to get away. His tongue dragged through my sex, lips sucking and teeth almost biting. Everywhere he went his facial hair followed, making my nerve endings tingle and my tummy tighten. Too much and not enough and give me more. Every now and then he’d give me a warning nip somewhere, such as the sensitive join of body and thigh, like I needed a reminder regarding who was in charge.

Who was doing what to whom.

He ground his face into me, eating me, going wild, and it felt f*cking amazing. Mind-blowing, breath-stealing. Everything. I got it now. Beards were the best. His tongue was like a lick of heat, his lips silken smooth and so damn strong. That beard, however. Holy shit. Too many sensations, too much, and all I could do was take it. The man was damn skilled, but I didn’t want to think about how many women he’d practiced on. Forget that. Only now mattered.

I was so damn wet. He slid two thick fingers into me, working me inside and out. My whole body tensed unbearably tight, until it seemed like I might shatter. Just explode into chaos and love-struck confusion. Then he flicked his tongue back and forth across my clit, stopping to suck at it every other time, lips encasing my swollen, completely overexcited sex.

I couldn’t take it any longer. My whole body went boom.

I came with a shout, eyes open wide but unseeing. He’d colored my world in sparkles. Multitudes of little flashy lights, filling my mind and lighting me up. I just floated, lost in the feel-good chemical haze he’d induced. The mediocre to bad sex I’d had during my juvenile, idiotic, wild phase didn’t even begin to compare. Nothing in common with how Ben worked my body. The pleasure he gave me. Damn he was good at oral. Scarily so.

When the haze of blinky lights faded, he was busy pulling his shirt off over his head. Apparently undoing the buttons would have taken too long. He wiped off his mouth, dark gaze glued to me all the while. Next he toed off his boots and ripped into the pants—belt, button, and zip. Plain black boxer briefs outlined a monster of a hard-on. No wonder it wouldn’t fit. And the way he looked at me, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take a bite out of me or what. I don’t know. But his gaze slipped over me so warmly, belying the hunger in his eyes.

Then the boxers went down and he was climbing over me, hooking an arm around my waist to drag me back into the middle of the bed.

“Are we going to—”

“Yeah,” he said, then tore open a condom wrapper with his teeth. One-handed he rolled it on, the slippery, smooth latex rubbing against me between my legs.