“Beg for it, baby.”

“Bennn . . . I need you . . . deep inside me . . .”

His guttural moan sent a new wave of wetness rushing against his hardened flesh. He was teasing me, running his slickened manhood along me, making me whimper.

“You want me to fuck that beautiful pussy, baby?” Ben pressed his hard tip against me without entering.

“Yes please. Ben, fuck me.” How I always seemed to end up begging for him I had no idea, but this man made me crazy with desire. I’d never been this way before—this out of control and desperate. He pushed against me, sliding inside slowly, letting his body invade mine until he was deeply buried within me. The pleasure/pain combo sent a groan tumbling from my throat. I gripped his shoulders and he held my ass in his hands, lifting me up and down, fucking me hard and without mercy.

My back bumped against the wall with each thrust, but I didn’t care if I had bruises tomorrow. I wanted it hard. Needed it. I needed him to claim me and show me I was his. Watching Ben lose control was a thing of beauty. His face remained impassive, but his pulse thrummed in his neck and his muscles tensed and quivered as he held my weight.

Never normally vocal during sex, I mumbled his name and moaned with each stroke. Sex had never been so intimate before. This was more than sharing in bodily pleasure. Ben’s gaze stayed locked on mine as he read my every cue, responded to my every need. I braced my hand on the wall behind my head. Ben’s hand cradled the back of my head in his hand.

“Is this hurting you?” Without waiting for my answer, he walked us across the room and tossed me down on the bed.

The physical separation was abrupt and unwelcome. I instantly missed him. His erection hung heavily between us and I couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward on the bed and plant a damp kiss against his tip. His hands moved to my hair and arranged it away from my face.

His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated as he watched me. “Fuck, girl. You’re too good.”

I smiled up at him, and Ben’s hand cupped my cheek, stroking lovingly as his eyes met mine. I felt beautiful. Desirable. Tugging him by the hand, I pulled him onto the bed. I needed him closer.

Once he’d successfully rid me of my shirt and bra, Ben pressed against me again, easing inside me slowly. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on as he rocked into me, slowly at first, letting me adjust, then with an urgent rhythm.

He felt incredible. Big. Almost too big, but pleasurably so. I lost myself in the sensations: the roughness of his stubbled jaw rubbing my cheek, his fingertips biting into my hips, his broad chest rasping against mine as he moved over me.

Losing all control, his body pounded against mine ruthlessly, bringing us closer and closer to release. I wanted to make it last, to savor everything he had to offer, but all too soon the pressure built inside me. Ben read my body and slowed his thrusts, dragging himself almost all of the way out of me and sinking in again slowly. My back arched and I tilted my pelvis to meet him, letting the sensations overtake me. I came loudly, groaning his name in a litany of murmured whispers. Ben pressed his mouth to my neck, lightly biting me as he found his release. His body shuddered against mine as hot jets of semen exploded within me.

Refusing to move, we lay together in bed, a heap of sweaty, tangled limbs and sheets strewn about. I was glad to see there was no postsex awkwardness. Why had I been so desperate to flee last time? Ben was proving to be nothing like I would have imagined. He wasn’t the overconfident, self-absorbed model my worst fears had made him out to be. He was sweet and caring and apparently liked to cuddle. He pulled me close, his arms circling my waist in a tight embrace.

Once our breathing had returned to normal, Ben lifted up on one elbow to look down on me. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I smiled. I liked the easy playfulness between us.

“I have an extra toothbrush, pajamas, whatever you want.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead then removed himself from the bed. I got a peek at his tight backside before he slipped back into his discarded boxer briefs. He removed a white T-shirt from his wardrobe and tossed it on the bed for me before heading into the bathroom. He left the door open and I could hear the water running and the soft hum of his electric toothbrush.

I stretched in the bed, taking my time before moving. Slipping the T-shirt over my head, I joined him in the bathroom. I guessed he was serious about this being a sleepover. With toothpaste bubbles on his bottom lip, he smiled lazily and surveyed me from head to toe. Messy bedroom hair, smudged makeup, and an oversized T-shirt that fell to midthigh. By the look on his face, you’d think he’d never seen me look more gorgeous.

He leaned in to kiss me, leaving a dot of toothpaste on my top lip. “I like you in my clothes.” Ben handed me a spare toothbrush, still wrapped in plastic, and leaned down to rinse his mouth.

This felt very comfortable and domestic, sharing a sink with him. I liked it. I couldn’t help but notice his bottles of pills were neatly lined up on the counter. I wanted to ask him about them, but Ben wiped his mouth and headed out, giving me some privacy. All types of special creams and serums lined his bathroom vanity, but I liked that he seemed to be low maintenance. I didn’t think I could handle a guy who had a more involved bathroom regimen than me.

When I returned to the bedroom, Ben had turned off the lights so just the dim glow of the bedside lamp illuminated my path to the bed. He lifted the covers and I crawled in beside him. He wasted no time pulling me closer so that we lay spooned together.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled against my neck “So soft. So warm.”

I relished the feel of his arms around me. I felt safe. And warm. And feminine. His hard body pressed against mine. The few times I’d spent the night with my college boyfriend, he’d rolled over, facing away from me to sleep, his large back looming like an impenetrable wall. And when I tried to hug him from behind, he’d shrug me off, saying he was too hot. This was different . . . and nice. Our own little warm cocoon, away from the prying eyes of the world. He didn’t have to be the man everyone expected, and I wasn’t the meek little assistant, out of her element. I was just Emmy. I felt at peace.

Ben pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in until my back was pressed against his front. “Sleep, baby.”

I couldn’t forget the pills I’d seen in his bathroom. I knew now might not be the best time to ask, but . . . “Ben?” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

I couldn’t resist asking the question burning a hole in my brain. “Those pills in your bathroom . . . I know I shouldn’t pry, but . . .”

He released a heavy breath.

“Tell me.” I rolled over to face him, his features barely visible in the soft moonlight. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I’m okay, Emmy,” he whispered.

“That’s a lot of pills, Ben. I’m just worried.”

His warm hand captured mine and squeezed. “I don’t want to hide anything from you.”

“So don’t,” I whispered.

He was quiet for a moment, just the sounds of our breathing in the silent room. “But I also don’t want to scare you away.”

My heart rate kicked up a notch. Did he have a pill-popping addiction? Was he sick? I braced for the worst. “You won’t. I’m here.”

“Just don’t go anywhere.”

I squeezed his hand back. “I’m not planning on it.” I was here for the next three months, or however long this thing between us lasted. He was quickly getting under my skin.

“I will tell you. But it’s a conversation for another time.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t going to lie. I was a little disappointed. Now seemed like a fine time, we were safe and warm, and it was dark. But Ben wasn’t ready. I guess I had to respect that.

“Rest, baby.” He clutched me tighter, like he was truly afraid I was going to leave.

I closed my eyes, curling into his warm body, and tried not to worry about what the future might hold.

Within a few minutes he was breathing deeply against the skin on the back of my neck, his heavy exhales signaling he’d already fallen asleep. I couldn’t help remembering all the times he said he had trouble sleeping, and a smile overtook my mouth. He was asleep. My baby. I curled my legs up, getting comfortable, and let him hold me.

11

Emmy

In the morning, Ben woke me with a trail of soft kisses down my thigh. I blinked my eyes open to find him leaning over my lower half. He lifted my leg to his mouth, kissing along my calf muscle, my ankle, the arch of my foot.

“Morning,” I whispered, stretching my arms above my head. His scent still clung to my skin and I was deliciously sore.

“You’re fucking sexy in the morning,” he growled in a sleep-roughened voice.

I laughed, watching him press soft kisses along the top of my foot, my toes. It was a lovely way to be woken up. I felt worshipped, pretty, and very much wanted.

He kept his gaze on mine, the hungry look in his eyes making my belly flutter. His teeth grazed my instep and the laughter died on my lips, need filling my system almost instantly. Memories of last night danced through my mind, watching Ben’s mouth move over my skin. He kissed a path up my lower leg, hovering briefly at the skin on the back of my knee. His breath tickled and I squirmed in the bed, already anticipating where he was heading.

He gently bit the flesh inside my thigh and my sex clenched. Pushing my T-shirt up, his fingers hooked into my panties and he dragged them down my legs. I pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it beside the bed while Ben shoved off his boxers. I noticed the clock read ten after seven. He had a fitting at eight.