Chapter 20 Bennett
Bennett
Ihad never been handled like a piece of meat before, but damn, it felt pretty incredible. Especially in Bella’s hands.
I was stretched out flat on her bed, sheets cool against my bare back, hands tucked behind my head like I was on vacation instead of moments away from being used as a human tasting menu. Personally, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday night.
“What exactly are you putting on me again?” I asked, eyes focused on the small glass jar in her hand.
Bella twisted the jar between her fingers, eyes sparkling with that perfect mix of mischief and focus I had come to crave. She knelt beside me, curls damp and wild, falling over one shoulder like she was some kind of siren.
“Honey dust,” she said. “Edible body powder made from dehydrated honey. And a bunch of other stuff.”
“And this isn’t going to burn my dick off or anything like that?”
Her soft giggle made my cock twitch. “It’s not for your dick.”
“Well, where’s the fun in that?”
She pursed her lips and went back to the tools laid out on her nightstand. Damn, she was hot when she went all mad scientist on me.
From the moment her classmate, Parker, had suggested the honey dust idea, Bella hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind. To Bella, it was less of a suggestion and more like a personal challenge.
For three days, I’d watched her pace the kitchen, muttering measurements under her breath, scribbling notes, and texting Parker rapid-fire questions before disappearing into her room for hours at a time.
Focused. Determined. Completely in her element.
It made something warm settle in my chest, knowing she’d found her footing at school and, better yet, a friend who spoke her language.
While Bella busied herself at the nightstand, I let my gaze wander, really taking her room.
A mountain of pillows crowded the headboard, half decorative, half clearly meant for strategic lounging.
Library books were stacked on her nightstand—actual, physical books—that she wedged between a mug with a chipped rim and a notebook full of scribbled ideas.
Twinkle lights had been strung from wall to wall, looping across the room in soft golden arcs because as Bella put it, she didn’t “do overhead lighting.”
And then there was the evidence of her experiment.
Tiny bowls and measuring spoons sat on her dresser, dusted with faint traces of gold. The faint scent of honey lingered in the air, like her room itself had absorbed the last few days of trial and error.
In a house of neutral walls and sensible furniture, this room was unmistakably hers. Every pillow, nook, and soft light felt intentional.
Lived in. Loved.
And she had welcomed me in, arms—and mouth—wide open.
Bella turned back to me, jar in hand, clearly pleased with herself. “Alright, ready for batch number three?”
I grinned. “Yes, doctor. What’s the hypothesis?”
“That this will taste better than it smells. And that you’ll beg for more.”
She unscrewed the lid, and a sweet, floral-honey scent bloomed between us. She tipped the jar, letting a light cloud of golden dust drift down onto my chest. It settled in a faint shimmer across my skin, cool at first, then warming instantly.
I hissed out a breath. “Tickles.”
“Poor baby,” she cooed, completely unsympathetic. She dipped a brush that looked more like a feather duster into the jar and swept it across my collarbone.
She followed the path with her tongue, licking a stripe across my chest. The wet heat dissolved the powder into sticky sweetness, and I groaned, hips shifting involuntarily.
“Hold still. Science demands precision.”
I raised a brow. “Bossy.”
She swirled around my nipple, sucking gently then harder, teeth grazing just enough to make my back arch off the bed.
“Mm, subject is responsive,” she murmured against my skin, pressing a quick kiss to my collarbone. “Very responsive.”
“Anything in the name of science, baby,” I told her, grinning even as my cock throbbed.
“You sure?” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “Because I’m feeling very . . . thorough tonight.”
I reached up, tucking a damp curl behind her ear. “Thorough is my favorite. Do your worst.”
“Challenge accepted.”
She sprinkled more dust, lower this time, the powder catching in the ridges of my abs. The brush followed, tracing every muscle. Soft, maddening strokes that stirred the powder into a sticky sheen where it mixed with the heat of my skin.
She moved lower, pausing to circle her tongue around my navel. “Ticklish?” she teased, eyes dancing.
“Evil,” I muttered.
She hooked her fingers in the waistband of my boxer briefs, tugging them down slow enough to torture me. My cock sprang free, heavy and leaking, and she hummed appreciatively, admiring her handiwork.
“Well,” she murmured. “Look at that.”
My gaze shot up when she brushed a light dusting of honey powder around the base of my cock. “I thought you said this wasn’t for my dick.”
“Honey dust is meant for external use only, so as long as we’re careful—”
Then her tongue was on me again, lapping up my precum with the honey powder. Painfully slow, deliberate licks from base to tip.
I jerked, hips bucking. “Fuck, Arabella.”
Her wicked laughter vibrated against my cock.
The honey dissolved into a sweet, sticky mess. Every pass of her mouth made it filthier. She swirled around the head, teasing the foreskin back with her lips, sucking me gently like a goddamn lollipop.
“Mm, you taste good,” she whispered, eyes flicking up to mine.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hm, sweet and salty. My favorite kind of snack.”
I tangled my fingers in her curls, holding on for dear life. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
She grinned before taking me deeper. Her lips stretched around my length, cheeks hollowing as she sucked. One hand stroked the base in slow twists. The other cupped my balls, rolling them gently, thumb brushing that sensitive spot that made my vision spark.
Damn, she was a fast learner.
Every time she discovered something that made my hips jerk or my breath catch, she did it again, like she was cataloging my reactions for future reference. The sensation was almost too much.
Tongue swirling. Hand pumping. Big, beautiful eyes locked on mine, daring me to lose control.
Not yet, baby.
“Wait,” I rasped, gently easing her off with the hand in her hair. She looked up, lips swollen and shiny. “I want to taste you, too.”
She pouted. “But I wasn’t done.”
“I want your pussy on my mouth while you suck me.”
Her eyes widened, then darkened with understanding. “You mean—”
“Sixty-nine, baby,” I said, voice rough. “You game?”
She shivered, nodding fast. “God, yes.”
I quickly stripped her pajama bottoms and panties off her body before guiding her to turn and straddle my chest, tugging her back until her knees framed my head.
Her thighs trembled as she hovered, that gorgeous ass right above me.
Her pussy was glistening, flushed from all the teasing.
Her trimmed curls were dark and neat, framing the slick pink folds like a perfect invitation.
A faint scattering of freckles dusted the soft skin of her inner thighs, trailing inward like a constellation leading straight to heaven. I stared, mesmerized.
Forget the Eiffel Tower or the Grand Canyon at sunrise; Bella’s swollen cunt was the best fucking view I’d ever seen.
The jar of honey dust sat forgotten on the bed. I reached for it, twisting the lid off and dipping my fingers into the fine, golden powder.
Her breath hitched when I trailed a light line just above her mound. The dust shimmered against her flushed skin, clinging to the faint sheen of sweat and arousal.
“Sit on my face, baby.” I grinned, reaching up to cup her hips and tug her gently toward me. “Let me taste that gorgeous pussy.”
“You don’t mean like actually sit—”
“Did I stutter?”
She glanced back at me and bit her lip. “Are you sure? I don’t want to, you know . . . suffocate you.”
“Bella, that’s the goal. I dream of your gorgeous thighs wrapped around my head, your perfect pussy grinding against my mouth until you come all over my face. I want to drown in you.”
She still looked unsure, so I gave her ass a light, playful spank. Apparently, that was all the encouragement she needed.
She lowered herself slowly, too slowly, and I yanked her down the rest of the way.
The first press of her slick heat against my tongue made me groan loud enough for her to feel it. The honey dust dissolved instantly, turning her taste into something sweet and addictive.
Mm, heaven.
My tongue swept through her folds, lapping up her arousal, circling her clit as she settled over my mouth.
She gasped, bracing herself on my thighs, hips rocking tentatively at first. I encouraged her with my hands, squeezing her ass, guiding her to grind harder. When she found her rhythm, I rewarded her with another light spank. The slap echoed through the quiet room.
“Do you like that, baby?” I growled against her.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Want more?” I punctuated my question with another light slap.
“Yessss.”
I kept my tongue relentless, alternating between broad, flat licks that covered every inch of her and sharp, pointed flicks directly on her swollen clit.
Each time she ground down harder, chasing the friction, I rewarded her with another firm spank, harder than playful now, the sharp crack of my palm against her ass ringing out.
Her thighs quivered around my ears, muscles tightening then releasing. I could feel the heat blooming across her skin where I’d struck, the faint sting, I knew, she craved because every time my hand landed, she clenched around nothing.
“Take my cock back in your mouth, Arabella.”
“Fuck, Bennett—” Her voice broke. She leaned forward with a groan and sucked me deep between her lips.
The dual sensation hit me like a fucking freight train.
Her lips sealed tightly around me again, sliding down until I nudged the back of her throat. The vibration of her moan traveled straight up my shaft, making my balls draw up tight.