I was a goner. There was no way to argue with a man who wanted me. Why would I want to? I was a bit thick sometimes but not altogether stupid.
Taking direction, I gripped his cock, and he bucked forward into my hand before pushing back and taking me slowly inside his body.
He was tight and slick, and there was a flush on his suddenly sweaty skin, pinking his cheeks as his pupils dilated and his lips parted.
The slow entry was amazing and excruciating, the velvet vise of his stretching muscles the sweetest torture as he sank over me. All the while, I stroked him as he put his hands flat on my chest, bracing, levering, wanting me deeper.
“I have never been this full in my life,” he rasped, and I heard the tremble in his voice, as well as the hunger. “Don’t you dare come, Shaw,” he warned me. “I want to ride.”
Fuck yeah, whatever he wanted. “Please,” I begged him.
“You’ll come when I say.”
“Yes,” I promised.
His hips snapped forward, and the pressure and tightening and the slide all at once nearly made me welch on my vow, but how hard he pinched my nipples brought me from the high back down into my body.
It was a surprise, him getting off not on hurting me—because he wasn’t—but not worrying if he was. His long-lashed eyes were closed like he was lost in the rise and fall as he pushed down hard, bottoming out before lifting up, almost allowing the head to slip free, only to slide back down the pole of my cock.
The tears slipping out from under his lashes were unexpected.
“Benji?”
No answer, only him repeating the motion, again and again, until it became first a rhythm and then a pounding. It was too much.
When I rolled him to his back, his eyes opened wide, staring up at me, his irises now more black than blue.
“You liked that,” I said, putting one of his legs over my shoulder, then the other as I curled forward over him. “Being under my control. My power.”
“Yes,” he whispered, his breathing choppy and thin as he tried to arch up off the bed. “Oh, Shaw, please… please, please, please…”
“Gonna be mine,” I ground out.
“Oh God, yes, please.”
There was no more checking after that.
Pressing in slowly but steadily, I watched as his lips formed a perfect O and heard his decadent moan of abandon. When I was buried inside of him, I almost came with his muscles clenching around me.
“Fuck,” I groaned, leaning in close, my breath heating the side of his neck.
“Have me,” he whispered, and I slid out a fraction, only to shove back inside.
His hands on my biceps were tight, digging into the muscle as my name came out in a guttural litany of longing.
I lost myself in the feel of him, in his need and my own. I drove inside of him, loving the way he met each stroke with a gasp of pleasure and ragged demands of harder and faster. I wasn’t careful, I believed him, took him at his word as I had no one else, ever, and used him until we were straining together, both of us slipping toward a desperate edge.
“Oh, love, you gotta come,” I choked out, my voice cracking, brittle with my nearing climax. “Now.”
His eyes, had been closed, but now they opened wide, and his gaze locked with mine. And in the moment, I understood. He’d made himself clear earlier when he’d exacted my promise. I was to wait on him and not climax without permission.
“Please,” I begged him, putting the plea in my tone. “I can’t—you feel too good.”
“You want me, crave me,” he gasped.
“I do. Without question.”
“Oh, yes,” he whimpered, and then yelled my name.
I felt all his muscles clamp down around me at once as he came for the second time, spurting over my abdomen. I thrust deep, and that was all, the orgasm there, rushing through me, turning me inside out.
His legs slipped from my shoulders to my hips, and his arms were open in invitation.
I lay down on top of him, pinning him to the bed, pressing my face to the side of his neck as he held me tight.
“I’m heavy,” I murmured into his hot, sweaty skin.
“Yes, you are,” he whispered. “Please don’t ever move.”
“Going to have to eventually,” I rumbled, kissing the side of his neck.
“But not yet.”
No. Not yet.
13
My phone, ringing incessantly, woke me up. When I rolled over in bed, reaching for it on my nightstand, I realized it wasn’t where it normally was.
Getting up was hard, because I was tangled up with Benji and I didn’t want to wake him. I was as gentle as humanly possible, but he still sat up, one eye open, one closed, looking absolutely adorable and pissed off at the same time.