Fuck that shit.
I give him a closed lip smile and go into the bathroom. I turn on the water and spit, then quickly use my hand as a cup and rinse my mouth out. I’m back in bed in under sixty seconds.
Ben is still laying there, still panting. I don’t think he noticed I was even gone. A few seconds tick by then he’s over top of me, unzipping my boots and taking off my panties and tights. He’s on his side next to me kissing me, and I’m sure he’s glad I got that water.
He puts his hand under my petticoat, stroking my clit. I shudder from pleasure. I’m so wound up, so ready for this. He works his fingers, taking his time rubbing, circling, stroking me. I hold onto him, feeling his muscles bulge and flex as he finger-fucks me.
He pushes two fingers inside me, finding my g-spot, then moves back to my clit. After a few minutes of going back and forth like that, I’m coming so hard my ears ring and my toes tingle.
And he doesn’t fucking stop.
He moves his head between my legs, kissing the inside of my thighs before taking me in his mouth. Then his tongue lashes out and in just seconds, I’m welcoming my second orgasm.
He moves back up on the bed, holding me close. I get a moment to recover—and I need it—as he rubs my arms and shoulders. I’m starting to majorly relax when he trails his hand down between my legs again.
I moan and roll onto my back, giving him access. He’s hard again, and wastes no time getting on top of me. The tip of his dick rubs against my clit, sending me over the edge again. I lift my hips and he slides into me.
He lets out a moan and I realize he doesn’t have a condom on. Part of me doesn’t care and doesn’t want him to stop. His dick has been in my mouth multiple times; I’m just as likely to get an STD from him by sucking his cock as I am from him raw dogging it.
I just don’t want to get pregnant. I have messed-up cycles and can go way over a month without bleeding, and never know when I’m going to start until I get crumple-into-bed-with-pain cramps. Then a few hours later Aunt Flo shows up. I haven’t had a period since I’ve met Ben. I should be due for one soon.
But that’s a big risk.
He pushes in as deep as he can and all logic goes out the window. I wrap my legs around him and move my hips along with his, needing this now. I come for the third time, clinging to him as my body goes haywire. He bites down at my neck, lets out a breath, and pulls out as he climaxes, coming onto my thigh. He pushes himself against me, trying to get some sensation out of it.
He relaxes against me, his weight crushing, and buries his head in the cleavage that’s popping out of the tight leather corset.
“That was nice,” I say and run my hands down his arms. “And by nice I mean fucking amazing.”
Ben’s still panting. He rises his head and kisses me. “You’re fucking amazing.”
My heart swells and I feel myself inching closer and closer to the edge. No. I’m not falling for him. Not now. Not yet. I can’t when there is so much up in the air, so much unknown.
“Want me to get you a towel or something?” he asks.
“Nah, it’s already dripping down my leg onto the skirt. That’ll work well enough.” I use the material to wipe up my thigh.
Ben makes a face. “Sorry?”
“You should be. So sorry you do me again.”
He rolls off me, chest rapidly rising and falling. “That can be arranged.”
“Actually, you can unlace the corset and call it even.”
“If undressing you is the price I have to pay for fucking you…” He grabs me and pulls me onto him. Our eyes meet and his lips part, like he wants to say something. He kisses me instead and sits us both up. Deft fingers unlace the corset and I got into the bathroom to undress and run a damp washcloth over my sticky skin.
I want to bring up the “since we’ve been together” thing but I’m not sure how to do it. I don’t want to insult him if we have been together in his eyes. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone else, or have any intentions to.
Why can’t we go back to the days when we passed a note where you just had to circle yes or no? So simple. Black and white. Unless that fucker adds a “maybe” option to that note.
Ben has his boxers on, and he’s lying on the bed flipping through channels. He’s everything I want and everything I thought I’d never have.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Not really, but I do have cookies.”
“You like to bake, don’t you?” he asks.
“I do,” I tell him and open the top drawer on my dresser. I pull out panties and a Captain America tank top to wear to bed. I undress in front of him, knowing he’s watching but not feeling self-conscious. “My best friend owns a bakery. She pretty much forced my love of baking from an early age. She’s way better than me, which is good since she owns a bakery and all. Want milk with your cookies?”
“Is there any other way to eat them?”
I smile and leave the room, coming back with chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk. I’m surprised to see Ser Pounce sitting on the foot of the bed. He’s not cuddled up with Bed by any means, but he’s blissfully ignoring him. And hey, that’s progress. I snuggle with Ben as we eat and watch another episode of Game of Thrones. Ben says he should leave since we both have work in the morning, but makes no attempt to get up.
I put the dishes aside and we cuddle under the blankets, comfortably tangled together.
“What are you doing for the Fourth of July?” I ask lazily, close to the point of being so tired my logic filter is off. I’m not worried about asking him anymore.
“A friend is having a party,” he says and my heart sinks. “Why? Do you have plans?”
“Kind of. My parents own cabins and boats and stuff along the lake and have a huge hillbilly boat party thing.”
“Did you say boats?”
I nod. “And a few jet skis. They rent them out to people who rent the cabins. But they always save a few for the party.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It is, actually. There’s more food than you can eat and everyone is drunk. Even my mom, and she’s a trip once you get enough wine in her. I haven’t been home much lately. I’m kind of looking forward to it,” I confess as it hits me. “Erin always goes. And makes a tasty cake.”
“The one who owns the bakery?”
“Yeah. I should have mentioned it sooner so you could have gone with me.” My eyes are closed and the steady beating of Ben’s heart is relaxing. I don’t want him to leave.
“My friend’s party isn’t something I’d be sad to miss,” he says slowly.
“Really?” I sound too hopeful.
“Really. When are you leaving?”
“Sometime that Friday evening. I intended on spending the weekend there, since the Fourth is on Saturday and all. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know it’s a long time to be with me and all…”
“I do want to,” he says. “I like being with you, Felicity. You act like it’s a surprise.”
“Just making sure,” I add quickly. I smile, and wrap my arm tighter around him.
“I have to go to an art exhibit opening Wednesday night, and I should spend tomorrow getting ready,” he says. “I’ll be at the gallery late, and Thursday I have to drive three hours to another gallery and be gone the whole day. So I won’t get to see you the rest of the week. I’ll be looking forward to the whole weekend together.”
“Good. Because I am too.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tissue paper crunches under my ass, which is hardly covered in a disposable thong. I shift on the foam bed, nervously looking at the door. My heart is racing. Fuck. I shouldn’t have done this. I can still get up, put my pants back on, and dash out of the salon before someone comes in, covers my cooter with hot wax, and rips my hair from my body.