“How did you know my room number?”

His eyes cut back to mine. “Brett Rizzoli is night shift maintenance. I called him. He got it for me.”

I was surprised Brett Rizzoli had a job, seeing as he spent his high school years, and a number after them, on a mission of scoring the best weed in order to smoke it.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Late,” Ben answered.

“Ben—”

He cut me off with, “Serious as fuck, Frankie…cookies?”

I snapped my mouth shut because I knew what he was talking about and my what-I’d-hoped-would-be-thoughtful gesture didn’t seem so thoughtful anymore. It seemed stupid, even callous.

“You’re pissed,” I noted inanely.

“Uh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You didn’t come back to me,” he clipped.

I clenched my teeth.

“Waited, Francesca. You didn’t fuckin’ come back to me. Then you send me fuckin’ cookies?”

I felt my heart hammering in my chest as I stared at Benny.

Pissed off, small drops of wet in his hair, which told me it was raining or snowing, more wet on his leather jacket, tall, built…beautiful.

Benny.

Taking in all that was him, feeling his angry vibe filling the air and pressing into me, there was no thought. There was nothing.

There was only action.

And that action was me rushing the four feet that separated us and throwing myself in Benny’s arms.

The next action was to drive my fingers into his hair, tilt his head down, then me going up on my toes so I could slam his mouth on mine.

And the next was me touching my tongue to his lips.

The next actions were all Benny’s.

I was up, legs around his hips, his hands at my ass and his tongue in my mouth. He was walking and turning. Then we were down, Ben sitting on the end of the bed, me straddling him.

We did all this kissing, tongues sparring, heads shifting one way and then back, both of us drinking deep, hard, wet, desperate.

His hands went up my nightie and straight down into my panties.

God, they felt good there.

I whimpered into his mouth but didn’t break the connection as I moved my hands to his jacket and shoved it down his shoulders.

I lost his touch when he tore off his jacket. I vaguely heard it land on the floor with a soft flunf, and this was vague because most of my attention was centered on his hands back in my panties.

As much as I liked having them back, I wanted more.

I pulled his tee up at the back, breaking the kiss to demand, “Shirt off, baby.”

I no sooner had the words out when Ben’s hands went to the hem of the tee. He tore it up and it was gone.

I saw bare chest and shoulders, and it was an amazing chest and shoulders, then I saw nothing as Benny shoved his fingers into my hair, tilted my head down, and took my mouth with his.

Finding myself in the miraculous position of being wrapped around a shirtless Ben who was kissing me, I didn’t waste the opportunity. I rolled my hips into his hard crotch, running my hand down his chest, down his abs, liking what it encountered a whole lot, but I had a premier destination in mind. I twisted my hand, flattened it, and rubbed it hard over his jeans.

“Fuck,” he groaned in my mouth.

“Now,” I whispered into his.

His brows shot up over dark, heated eyes. “Now?”

I pressed my hand deep. “Now, baby.”

He said not another word. He shifted slightly to the side and I went for his belt. He had his wallet open while I undid the buttons on his jeans. I caught a glimpse of the fact that Benny Bianchi didn’t carry a condom with him, he carried a string of three, but I didn’t let that penetrate. I had a mission, and that mission was pressing my hand into his boxers and finally getting what I’d been craving for far too long.

It wasn’t difficult to find. It was big. It was hard. And it was all mine.

I pulled his cock free of his jeans and found it was also beautiful.

I stroked.

Ben growled.

His noise made my hips jerk and my eyes went to his.

“Hurry,” I begged.

“Gotta unlatch, baby,” he whispered.

I didn’t want to, but I unlatched.

Ben had the condom out already (thank God) and rolled it on while I watched, squirming in his lap.

He barely had it to the base before I shoved his hand away and grabbed on. I used the fingers of my other hand to shift my undies aside, then took the tip of his cock and rocked my hips against it, sliding it against me.

Ben’s hands came to my hips, fingers digging in, and he rumbled, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

I looked into his eyes. “I want it, Benny.”

He looked into my eyes. “Then take it, Frankie.”

I rammed down, filling myself with Benny.

Oh God.

Perfect.

When I took him, Ben’s hands dragged up, fingers digging deep into my flesh, pulling my nightie up my back.

But he didn’t take it off. This was because I was riding him and doing it fast, hard, driving down, grinding, and I had to hold on to stay steady. He shoved one hand up through my nightgown, cupped the back of my head, and pulled it down so he could have my mouth.

I gave it to him, letting Benny take my mouth in a brutal, devouring kiss while I took his cock.

I felt his other hand slide around, in, and down, then his thumb was at my clit.

He put on pressure and rolled.

Benny inside me, Benny all around me. Almost eight years without any goodness but what I could give myself, now finally having it and it being Benny. The instant his thumb rolled, my head shot back and I cried out, sharp and hard, as my orgasm powered through me.

Still coming, Ben pulled me off him, flipped me to my back, ripped my panties down my legs, hauled me up the bed, covered me, and drilled back inside.

“Yes,” I breathed, still climaxing.

Ben thrust, his hips tilted to the side, his hand gliding over my ass, down the back of my thigh to lift one knee high.

“Yes,” I repeated on a gasp, opening my eyes to see him up on a forearm, pounding in, staring down at me.

“Crazy-beautiful,” he whispered.

Oh God.

Benny.

I had one arm trapped under his body, so I curled the forearm around his lower back and held him as best as I could while I lifted my other hand and trailed it down the new, unfamiliar, but awesomely fabulous ridges and flats of his chest and abs.

I lifted my hips so he could get more, I could get more, and he thrust in, started grinding, and bit out, “Fuck yeah, Frankie.”

“What do you need?” I whispered.

“Got it,” he grunted.

God.

My Benny.

I wrapped the leg he had mostly pinned to the bed with his weight around his thigh and moved my hips in tandem with his, letting my fingers drift over the definition of his abs, looking into his eyes, feeling the glory of Benny Bianchi repeatedly filling me.

He yanked up my leg, powered so deep, it felt like he touched my womb. My neck arched and I breathed, “That’s it, baby, fuck me.”

At that, he threw my leg around his back, his hand gliding up the front of my thigh, my side, in, it rubbed hard over the material covering my breast, the drag over my tightened nipple forcing a moan to glide out of my throat. Then his hand moved down and his thumb was again at my clit.

My head righted and I moaned, “That’s it, Benny.”

“It fuckin’ is. Get there, Frankie,” he growled.

Our hips moved, Ben pressed and rolled, then pressed deeper and rolled harder as his hips rammed into mine and my breath caught.

“Benny.”

“Close, cara, get there,” he groaned.

Too late.

I was there. Digging my fingers into his back, clutching him with my legs, my other hand shooting up to curl around the side of his neck and hold tight, my back arched off the bed and it again shot through me.

I felt Ben thrust deep through it, his thumb moving from my clit to clamp around the back of my thigh. I just had it together enough to open my eyes when he started bucking, his breaths coming rhythmic and harsh. When I did, I saw his head dipped down and felt his hand gripping my thigh tight, the harsh breaths turning into the hard grunts of his release.

His bucking slowed, gentled, until he slid in, released my thigh, lifted his head, caught my eyes, and lowered his body to mine.

“Well, uh…how’s that for healing the breach?”

That came from me. Right out of my mouth. I heard it and I couldn’t believe it.

Benny couldn’t either. I knew this when he blinked. Then he stared.

Then his head went back and he burst out laughing.

It was at this inopportune moment that all that I’d just done hit me in the way of the sane, rational person I wanted always to be (but rarely was) rather than the insane, crazy slut I’d just acted like, which seemed to happen a lot around Benny.

I knew Ben felt the tightness that came into my body because his head snapped back down, and when his eyes caught mine, there was zero humor in them.

“Oh no, cara, fuck no,” he growled. “You are not pullin’ away from me now and not just ’cause I got you pinned to the bed with my dick still hard inside you.”

“I threw myself at you again,” I whispered, sounding horrified, and my voice started rising when I finished, “This time literally.”

“Yeah, you did, thank fuck.”

It was me who blinked that time before I asked, “You’re not mad?”