23. Bennett
TWENTY-THREE
BENNETT
This is not the first time I’ve seen all of Marley. But it’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to really look. The first time she’s very enthusiastically allowed me to touch. I’m not going to waste a single second letting myself think about what any of this means. The minute the last article of clothing leaves her body, I slam the door shut on that annoying little voice asking about tomorrow. She’s watching me intently, and I hope this isn’t something she blocks later. I hope she remembers it always. I know I’m not going to be forgetting a single second of this.
“Look at you,” I murmur appreciatively, reaching out to touch her and watching in awe as a flush spreads across her skin.
Her skin is so soft, and I wonder if she likes the feel of my rough hands as I trail them down the gentle curves of her body. By the way she’s responding, I think she’s fine with them. I’m lost in her, only finding my way by using the little noises she’s making. I’m doing my best to hold it together. My body is absolutely ready to go, but I’m trying to figure out how best to make us both feel good without causing her pain. While I work out the logistics, I nip at the skin just above her collarbone at the same time as I tweak her right nipple. She practically levitates as she claws at my back, and I add a line to the mental note I have on things Marley likes. A list of the things Marley responds a certain way to, things I very much would like to revisit in the future. So far the only thing she doesn’t seem to like is the skin just below her ass touched. When I caress her lightly there, she giggles and tries to roll away from me. As much as I enjoy the sound of her giggle, the getaway attempt is not something I want a repeat of.
When she reaches between us and squeezes me, I see stars. When she moans, “Please, Bennett!” I nearly lose it completely. Pulling back, I try to collect myself. The way she’s touching me isn’t helping, so I grab both of her wrists and drag them above her head, holding them with one hand. Marley’s eyes go wide.
I want to take my time with her and draw this out, but between how she’s reacting and what that’s doing to me, I may have to take my time later. Right now it seems like an impossible task, but still, I grin down at her. “Have a little patience, sweetheart.” I kiss her deeply, my tongue sliding along hers as my free hand snakes down her body, her back arching, a gasp meeting my lips as my fingers reach their destination. I really like making Marley smile and laugh, but it turns out I like dragging this reaction from her the most.
When she’s on the edge, I pull away, let go of her hands, and try not to come completely undone when she releases a desperate little sound and reaches for me again. So much for patience. She watches intently as I get ready for her and smiles wickedly when I crawl back over her body, pulling me down to her lips, crying out against my mouth as I slide into her as slowly as I can manage. When I’m all the way in, I allow myself to look down at those golden-brown eyes meeting mine. There’s an expression on her face that I can’t quite read. She said everyone always knows what she’s thinking, but she can’t possibly be thinking what it looks like. Right now she’s looking at me like I’m the only person she ever wants to see again, like I’m home after a long absence. It’s too much, and I have to drop my lips to her neck to avoid her gaze.
I want to last as long as possible and drag her little noises out all night, but I’m a human pop can that has been shaken for three days straight. The only saving grace is that she seems to be in the same situation. When she starts whispering little demands, I don’t have it in me to deny a single one that passes through those lips. Harder? Yes, ma’am. Faster? Hold on, sweetheart. Just like that? Even if it kills me. Three fucking days in, and I’d do absolutely anything this woman asks of me, without question.