Chapter 13 Bella
Bella
Holy fuck balls, this was happening.
I was actually doing it. I was naked—well, close enough—and Bennett was looking.
At me, at everything.
After weeks of stolen glances, accidental touches, and one not-so accidental kiss that had kept me—and my vibrator—up well past midnight every night this week, I was done tiptoeing around this thing brewing between us.
If Bennett King wanted me, he could have me. Right here, right now, on a silver fucking platter.
He leaned back against the front door, hands clenched at his sides.
I tried not to flinch when his eyes raked over me from head to toe. Every imperfection I usually kept hidden—the faint silver lines on my hips, the softness of my stomach—was on full display, and I felt impossibly bare to his gaze, physically and emotionally.
The realization made me shiver.
The black lace demi bra cupped me perfectly, the half-cups barely covering my breasts and leaving the upper swells exposed.
My nipples, already tight from the cold and the rush of adrenaline, pressed visibly against the sheer mesh panels, straining against the thin fabric, begging to be touched. Licked.
Nibbled.
Was that a thing? Were people . . . nipple nibblers?
The matching thong rested low on my hips, though calling the small triangle of fabric held together by dental floss a thong was a disrespect to the lingerie industry at large. And as much as I hated to admit it, my ass crack was on fire.
Thankfully, Bennett’s gaze was stuck on my breasts.
Definitely a boob guy.
The raw hunger in his eyes sent heat flooding straight to my core, making my pussy clench. It wasn’t the first time he had seen me nearly naked. It wasn’t even the first time this month. And yet, I had never felt so seen.
So, why was he so quiet?
Seconds dragged by, his silence pressing in on me from all sides. And still, he said nothing.
My stomach twisted.
I couldn’t sit in silence. Not when I was so exposed and on display. Even being told to put my clothes back on or asked if I had completely lost my mind would’ve been better than what he was giving me now.
Double holy fuck balls.
Had I read this all wrong? Heat flooded my face, and this time, it wasn’t the good kind.
“Um, I didn’t mean—” I bent to grab the discarded hoodie and clutched it to my chest like a shield. “Sorry, I’ll just—”
“Arabella, stop.” His voice cut through the room, an octave lower than before. He was there in an instant, towering over me. “Why are you running away?”
I looked up at him, utterly mortified. “Well, when you didn’t say anything, I kind of assumed you weren’t interested.”
“Interested,” he repeated, spitting the word out like it tasted wrong. “Oh, baby. Interested doesn’t even come close to what I feel for you. I’ve been damn near obsessed since day one.”
His eyes searched mine with an intensity that made my pulse stutter and pussy flood.
“I thought I made it pretty clear how I felt when I practically mauled you against your door the other night, but apparently not.”
“That was a mutual mauling.”
“You’d been drinking.”
“So had you,” I fired back without missing a beat.
“You were in a . . . vulnerable position.”
“Would you prefer me in another position?” I teased.
“Arabella.”
“Bennett.”
His thumb brushed over my knuckles, a small, grounding touch. “Look, the last thing I ever want is to scare you off or make you feel like I’m just looking for an easy fuck.”
An easy fuck didn’t sound so bad to me, but I resisted the urge to tell him so when his gaze raked over my body once again before dragging back up to meet mine.
“But you standing here like this, offering yourself to me? It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to pin you to the nearest wall and show you exactly how interested I am.”
I swallowed, the vulnerability in his voice mirroring my own, my pulse thudding in my ears.
“I, um, think I’d be okay with that.”
His eyes darkened, a slow smile breaking through. “Oh, yeah?”
I nodded.
“I think we can do better than okay.” His hand slid up to cup my cheek. “But first, you need to promise me something.”
“What?”
“No more assumptions. If you want something, say it. If I do something that scares you or pisses you off or turns you on, please tell me.”
“That goes both ways, King.”
He nodded. “Deal.”
I had never felt like this before. My body was humming with nerves, but the want outweighed the fear tenfold. I wasn’t being swept along or talked into something I wasn’t ready for.
I wanted to take this step. With Bennett. Now.
“Starting now.” He leaned in closer, close enough for me to smell the faint trace of rain still clinging to his skin. “What do you want, Bella?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and released my death grip on his stolen hoodie. “I want you to touch me.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.” I threaded my arms around his shoulders, fingers tangling in the damp, soft curls at the base of his neck. “Everywhere.”
There was no more talking after that.
Our lips met. His hand tightened on my cheek, tilting my head back exactly where he wanted it, turning the kiss hungry.
He slid his tongue against mine, tasting me like he’d been starving for it.
Mmm, that makes two of us.
He walked me backward without breaking our kiss, one slow, purposeful step at a time, until my shoulders met the cool plaster of the living room wall.
His body followed instantly, caging me in. One thick thigh nudged between mine, pressing just enough to make me gasp into his mouth.
He pulled back and dragged his lips along my jaw, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear.
“Still okay?” he rasped.
I could only nod, fingers digging into his shoulders. How was he still able to form cohesive thoughts or sentences? The only thing keeping me up at this point was his thigh rocking against my pussy.
“I need to hear you say it, Bella.”
“I’m good,” I managed between breaths. “Keep going.”
The hard length of him ground against my stomach through his jeans. I arched into him on instinct, and he rewarded me with another deep, filthy kiss and a roll of his hips that dragged a whimper from my throat.
Holy shit, this man could kiss.
And his hands . . . fuck. He was a goddamn octopus.
One slid down my side, tracing the dip of my waist before settling possessively on my hip. The other slipped lower, cupping my ass through the thin lace of the thong, fingers spread wide as he kneaded the flesh.
He pulled me tighter against him, lifting me just slightly so the friction of his thigh between mine hit exactly where I needed it.
I moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by another slow, drugging kiss. His tongue stroked mine in a rhythm that matched the way his hand squeezed and released my ass, guiding me to rock against him.
Over and over. Back and forth.
When he shifted, my whole body felt it. Every kiss traveled through my spine like a shockwave, buzzing and alive.
I had never really enjoyed making out before. And sure, my experience was limited, but it had always felt like . . . too much, an overload of sensations colliding all at once.
My brain usually tapped out before my body could catch up, leaving me overwhelmed and disconnected.
But this was different.
Bennett kissed like he was listening with his whole body. And my whole body was screaming for more.
He pressed closer, chest pinning me gently to the wall as his hand on my ass lifted me higher, fingers teasing dangerously close to where I was already aching. The solid weight of him surrounded me—broad shoulders blocking out the room, heat and muscle and that delicious, woodsy scent.
It was perfect . . . until it wasn’t.
The wall was cool and unforgiving at my back, and suddenly the air felt thinner. It wasn’t fear, exactly. Just a flicker of being too pinned in, like I couldn’t quite draw a full breath or shift the way I wanted to. Discomfort curled in my stomach.
And much to my surprise, Bennett noticed immediately.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice rough but calm. He pulled back an inch, eyes scanning my face in the low light. “Talk to me, Bella. Where did you go just now?”
I exhaled shakily. “I’m okay. It’s just . . . a lot.”
“You want me to stop?”
“No!”
His chest shook with laughter when I all but shouted directly into his face.
“Sorry, no,” I said, lowering my voice. “I think it’s the fact that you’re so much taller and stronger, and with the wall behind me, I suddenly felt kind of . . . trapped. Like I couldn’t move the way I wanted.”
Bennett nodded, patiently absorbing every word. His hands slid from my ass to my hips, loose and light now, giving me plenty of room.
“Got it.” He brushed a soft kiss to my forehead, then the corner of my mouth. “Want to try something else?”
“Yes,” I breathed, relieved he didn't make it awkward, the sincerity in his voice melting any lingering doubt.
There wasn’t a trace of frustration or bruised ego in his tone, just quiet gratitude. He scooped me up effortlessly—goddamn, that was hot—and carried me to the couch, sinking down with me straddling his lap.
His palms settled lightly on my thighs, thumbs tracing idle circles over bare skin. “Better?” he asked.
I rolled my hips experimentally, feeling the hard line of him beneath me. “Much. Thank you for noticing when I checked out.”
“I always want to notice,” he said simply.
When he leaned in again, it was slower this time, like he was letting me set the pace without explicitly saying so. His forehead brushed mine first, then his nose.
It was a question, not a demand. And I answered by closing the distance between us, lips finding his in a kiss that felt steadier, deeper.
And that was when it hit me.
This—his care, our adjustment—was what made it different. What made him different. He didn’t just want my body; he wanted my comfort.
The heat was still there, even stronger than before, only now it was grounded. Safe. Intimate in a way that made my skin buzz instead of my brain overload.