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.

Instantly, his thumb glided through slick folds of flesh and found her clit, and he caressed her with slow, unhurried strokes meant to tease and build the tension cresting higher and higher, hotter and hotter. One finger, then two, pushed deep inside of her and that quickly, that easily, he felt the tremors within her begin.

She whimpered helplessly, and moaned incoherently. Her hands clutched at his back as her hips began to move in time to the circling pressure of his thumb, and the driving force of his fingers impaling her.

Giving in to the unstoppable urge to watch Christine as she climaxed, he lifted his head and stared down at her face. Her eyes were dark and filled with carnal need, her skin flushed with excitement all the way down to her heaving breasts. Her inner muscles fluttered around his fingers, and she tossed her head back in utter abandon, her lips parting on a shocked gasp of breath as the force of her orgasm sent her soaring. With his name tumbling from her lips, she shattered completely, blissfully.

When it was over, she slowly looked up at him, licked her bottom lip, and whispered, "I want more."

Her words shot liquid fire straight to his groin, unleashing his own lust, making him delirious with need. She was temptation personified, and having her became a live thing, something uncontrollable and inevitable, and suddenly jacking off all alone to ease his own ache held no appeal whatsoever.

He didn't have a condom, but he didn't need one for what he had in mind. Shoving his sweatpants down to his thighs, he released his heavy, throbbing erection and rubbed the sensitive head along the wet, gossamer stretch of panties covering her mound, saturating the length of his cock with the evidence of her own desire.

He settled his weigh more fully over her, pushing her thighs farther apart to make room for him between. He lifted her knees higher, parting them around his hips, then wrapping those slender legs tight around him. He slid every part of his body flush against her, hating the barriers between them, wishing they had nothing separating skin from skin. Meeting her heavy-lidded gaze, he thrust against her, the friction sending a warning shiver straight up his spine.

His self-discipline vanished. His control shattered. Knowing he wasn't going to last long, he crushed his mouth to hers, devouring her with the demanding pressure of his lips and aggressive invasion of his tongue. The hard ridge of his erection nudged her clit as he rocked against all that silky wet heat, again and again.

It was the next best thing to being inside of her, and he went a little wild at the thought.

Her moan vibrated deep inside him and she strained against him, ramping up his own urgency to let go. His hips pumped against hers in long, frantic strokes, and amazingly, he felt her shudder beneath him as another orgasm took her by surprise. And that was all it took for him to come right along with her in a hot, pulsing rush of unrestrained ecstacy.

When it was over, he burrowed his face against her damp neck, a raspy groan escaping him. Christine threaded her fingers through his hair, so sweet and affectionate, while her heart beat rapidly against his chest. Then she turned her head and pressed her lips near his ear.

"Thank you," she whispered, and he heard the lazy smile in her voice as she stroked her fingers along his nape. "That was amazing."

Amazing didn't even come close to describing what he'd just experienced, even without the luxury of being inside her. How in the hell was that possible?

He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to believe what he'd just done. Unable to believe he'd let things go this far when he knew better. His body was drained, depleted of every ounce of energy and months worth of all the sexual tension that had been building between them. His explosive orgasm had nearly slayed him, and the very worst of it was, he wasn't done wanting her. Not by a long shot.

And he had a feeling she was going to use every bit of that knowledge to her advantage.


WITH a whole lot to do before the elaborate charity ball that evening, Christine was up early Saturday morning and working in her office at home. She spent a couple of hours printing out bidding sheets and item descriptions for the silent auction, as well as organizing gold-embossed place cards to coincide with each donation. She checked and double-checked her master list against all the goods she had on hand to make sure everything matched and nothing was missing, then polished up her speech and made sure she had a copy of that, too.