Make Me Bad(64)

I can feel him at the back of my throat and my breaths come shallow, pained. This is where I die, I think as he starts thrusting faster. Goodbye sweet, sweet world.

I barely finish the thought before he hooks his hands underneath my arms and hauls me to my feet. My mouth hangs open.

“I’m not finished,” I say, sounding deprived. I’m a child whose lollipop has just been ripped from her mouth.

Ben doesn’t care about my disappointment, and he apparently doesn’t care about taking care of himself either. He’s spreading his hands over my body, edging me back step by step. My legs hit the futon as his hands unclasp my bra. The soft material slides off my skin and it’s immediately replaced by impatient hands and greedy touches. His palms roll across the tips of my breasts and my head falls back. He bends and his mouth takes over. He closes his lips and sucks. I’m thrust from one heady sensation to another, rough to soft. The juxtaposition is enough to jumble my thoughts. I’m no longer in control here. Oh right—I never was.

Ben’s a master at this: his mouth, his tongue, the flick of it across my delicate skin. I have tingles between my thighs, wetness that feels naughty. When I glance down, my fair skin is a map of where he’s been. His hands leave marks across my body—it’s the curse of being pale, though in this moment, it seems more like a blessing.

His mouth moves to my other breast and his hand slides down my stomach, down farther past my navel, and then his finger curls beneath my underwear. A shiver racks through me.

“Should we talk about what we’re doing?” I ask, suddenly nervous.

He pulls back and the self-assured smile he’s wearing makes me want to punch myself in the face for asking such a silly question.

His brow arches. “You want the play-by-play?”

Oh Jesus.

He looks like the devil.

His hair is dark brown in this light. I’m surprised I ever thought his eyes were the color of amber. In here, right now, they’re black as night.

“I’m kissing my way down your body,” he says just before he fulfills his promise.

I wish my stomach would quiver a little less, wish my heart would slow its pace or my hands would stop reaching for him. I want to touch him everywhere I can, the bulge of his biceps, the hard ridges of his abs.

“I’m going to slide your panties off.”

I cover my eyes. “Oh my gosh. Stop.”

“This?” he asks, nudging my panties down an inch. I’m barely concealed.

“No, the words. Your narration—it’s making me blush.”

A low chuckle escapes him and then he pushes me back onto the futon like I’m a stuffed animal. I flop down, legs splayed, and he crawls on top of me. I’m trapped.

This stupid excuse for a piece of furniture was not made for this. It’s wobbly and small. There’s hardly enough room for one person, let alone two. Ben keeps one of his feet planted on the ground and leans down over me, mouth taking mine in a soul-stealing kiss. I arch up to meet him when it seems like he’s going to pull away and he returns full force, tongue meeting mine. My hands cradle his neck and he peels my panties down my legs. I’m completely bared.

I’d have time to freak out about being naked in front of him if he didn’t reach down and cover me with his palm. He rubs the heel of his hand up and down, right between my thighs. Right. There. Again. Once more and my nails dig into skin. I’m wounding him because he’s wounding me. My heart will never be the same.

“Do you want to feel more?” he asks right before his middle finger slides inside me.

“Yes.”

“Like this?” He pumps in deep.

“Jee-zus.”

“You’re more than ready for me. God, you feel so good.” He sounds mad as he adds a second finger. My toes curl. “I’ll make you come like this. I’ll give you the play-by-play, yeah? You’re so tight. I’m seconds away from losing…” He groans. “Spread your legs.”

My legs fall apart as if they belong to him now.

I pinch my eyes closed and his fingers pump faster.

“It’s going to hurt, Madison. Look. Open your eyes.”

I do and he’s wiping hair from my face, tilting my chin so I have to meet his heavy gaze. He kisses me quickly and then leans back again.

“This can be over now. I can make you come just like this. It feels good, right?”

He swirls his thumb and, “Yes.” I let out the word on an exhale.

“We don’t have to keep going. We don’t have to have sex.”

If I had a condom in hand, I’d tear it open and throw it at him.

“Please, Ben.”

He doesn’t give in to my demands. He keeps going, keeps pumping, keeps turning me on. I know he’s ensuring that I’m ready, that I’m as wet as I could ever be, but I’m dying a slow death here. He’s kissing me seductively and his tongue is so convincing, I nearly give in. I’m so close to orgasming just from this—

No. I break off our kiss and cradle his face in my hands, staring pleadingly into his eyes.

“Please.”

Our gazes stay locked and I brush my thumb across his cheek.

“Please.”

He stands then, depriving me of his touch. He turns to find his pants and tugs a condom out of the back pocket.