Her ex was a certified jackass, no doubt about it. "That's such bullshit, Christine. The fault wasn't, and isn't, yours."
A woman's breathy moan drew Christine's gaze back to the TV. At some point, the guy had laid his lover back on the big bed and he was kissing his way down her body, until he finally settled his broad shoulders between her widespread thighs, then lowered his head and slid his tongue through the woman's soft, dewy flesh. She gasped, arched against the man's mouth, then let out a long, unraveling groan.
The uninhibited display was hot and provocative and downright titillating, physically and mentally. But it wasn't the action happening on the TV screen that captivated Ben, but rather Christine's response to what the guy was doing to the woman that turned him on like no porn movie ever had.
He felt like a voyeur, but didn't care.
She was watching the scene intently, her skin flushed with arousal, the tips of her fingers touching the base of her throat. Her lips were parted, her breathing deep and shallow, and when the woman in the movie started to come with a high-pitched cry, Christine let out a small choked sound of her own.
That sexy little sound she made, combined with the look of longing on her face and the slow, sensual way those fingers of hers trailed down to her breasts, was enough to ignite a strong dose of heated lust in his veins, and elsewhere. God, he was so fucking hard, his entire body strung so tight he knew he'd never get any sleep tonight without some kind of relief. And a cold shower just wasn't going to cut it.
Christine turned her head and glanced at him, her eyes dark and glazed with the kind of desire that could bring a man to his knees. And, oh, Lord, was he ever tempted to do just that and make her come undone, then scream from the sheer pleasure and strength of her first orally induced orgasm.
"That's what I want to know and feel," she said, as if she'd been reading his mind when in reality she was referring to what had just transpired between the couple, which was pretty much the same thing. "I've fantasized about what it would be like… with you."
He swallowed back a groan. She was literally killing him. With her candid words. With her soft, blue eyes. With her honesty and trust. He could only take so much, and he was nearly at his breaking point.
"Do not look at me like that," he said, forcing a deep warning note to his voice.
She blinked at him, but the need shimmering in her gaze didn't dissipate one bit. "Like what?"
A wave of frustration crashed over him. "Like you want me to be the one to teach you all about sex. Good sex," he clarified.
She glanced down at his lap and the fierce erection he couldn't even begin to hide, and a beguiling smile slowly eased up one corner of her mouth. "Maybe I do," she murmured huskily, and licked her bottom lip in a way that heated his blood even more. "Would that be so bad?"
He swore beneath his breath and resisted the overwhelming urge to give Christine exactly what she wanted, and so much more. He couldn't remember ever wanting anything as much as what she dangled in front of him right now, and after struggling between right and wrong, he managed, just barely, to do the ethical thing.
"It's not going to happen, Christine," he said, knowing he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
She sighed, her disappointment at his decision nearly tangible. She stood, and as she strolled past him she lightly skimmed her fingers along his jawline and brazenly stroked her thumb across his bottom lip, branding him with her oh-so-tempting touch.
"Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me," she said, and started to walk away.
Ben didn't know what possessed him to reach out and grab her wrist, then tug her back so that she fell across his thighs. Because once he had her in his lap, all soft and warm and aroused, he knew that stopping her had been a very bad, bad idea.
Still holding her wrist, he stared into her eyes, torn between the multitude of emotions swirling inside him. Of course there was lust and need rising to the forefront, but it was the other more complex feelings that threw him off-kilter and had his heart beating hard and fast in his chest.
Affection and caring. Tenderness and longing. All the types of emotions that scared the shit out of him.
Christine shifted restlessly against his thighs, drawing his attention back to her and the unavoidable temptation she presented. "Either do something, like kiss me or touch me, or let me go so I can take care of this ache on my own," she whispered.
The seductive image of Christine bringing herself to orgasm zapped the last of his control, and his sanity. Refusing to think of consequences, regrets, or anything else other than giving this woman every pleasure she'd been denied, Ben tumbled her back onto the couch and stretched his body over hers.
She gasped and looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes that gradually glowed with excitement. Plowing all ten fingers into her silky hair, he shoved a knee between her thighs to align them more intimately, then dropped his mouth over hers, possessing her with the ravenous assault of his lips slanting across hers. He thrust his tongue inside, delved deep into all that silken warmth, and lost himself in the hunger and need inflaming him, heating him from the inside out.
She kissed him back just as passionately as her cool hands came around to his sides, glided in a sensual caress to the base of his spine, then skimmed up the slope of his tense, muscled back. Her fingers dug into his flesh, trying to pull him impossibly closer while she arched wantonly beneath him.
Even through the fabric of her nightgown, he could feel her stiff nipples rubbing against his chest. Aching to touch more of her, wanting skin on skin contact, he slid his fingers beneath those thin straps on her shoulders and dragged them down both of her arms, until the front of her gown was bunched around her waist and her breasts were freed.
With a soft, unraveling moan, he buried his face against her neck, nuzzling that warm, inviting spot and breathing in the heady scent of vanilla. She moaned, too, as he scattered hot, moist, open-mouthed kisses down her throat and along her collarbone, then lower still.
Shifting to the side, he settled a hand over one of her breasts and swept his thumb across the pebble-hard tip. She shivered and exhaled a breathy sound that shot straight to his already rigid cock. Dipping his head, he curled his tongue around her other nipple-licking, nipping, laving, until the peak was swollen and damp from his ministrations and she was writhing wildly beneath him. Finally, he took her breast into the wet heat of his mouth, and at the first suctioning pull of his lips she clutched his head and pressed him harder, closer, forcing him to take her deeper.
Her thighs tightened against the one he'd nudged between her legs, and she began to breathe hard and fast. "Touch me, Ben," she begged, without inhibition, or the faintest ounce of modesty or reserve. "Oh, God, I need… I need to come so badly."
Now that he knew just how selfish her ex had been when it came to foreplay and Christine's pleasure, Ben wanted to show her how good it could be, how it should be when it came to a woman's gratification during sex.
With his mouth still on her breast, he slipped a hand beneath the hem of her gown and smoothed his palm up her thigh, until he reached the drenched fabric of her panties. She was so wet and aroused, from the X-rated movie still playing in the background and their hot and heavy kissing, and he didn't hesitate to work his fingers beneath the elastic band so he could touch her intimately.