Chapter 25 Bella #2
“You’re twenty-nine,” I reminded him, toeing off my own shoes. “And I don’t know if I would call the Rusty Fork a club.”
“I can’t believe you got me to go line dancing.
” He turned, catching me around the waist before I could step past him.
His hands settled low on my hips, thumbs brushing the bare strip of skin beneath my crop top.
It was enough to send a small, hungry spark racing through me.
“I haven’t been to a honky-tonk in years. ”
I leaned into him for a second, breathing in the sweet mix of sunscreen, sweat, and the faint trace of whatever cologne he’d put on this morning. “Thank you for today,” I murmured against his collarbone. “I think I needed that as much as you did.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
We stood like that for a long beat, the condo quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the distant thump of bass from some neighbor’s party. Eventually, I pulled out of his arms.
“I’m going to go take a bath.”
He cocked a brow. “It’s one in the morning.”
“And? My legs are killing me and I smell like cheap beer.”
He nodded, already reaching for the light switch. “Take your time. I’ll be up in a little bit.”
I turned toward the stairs, pausing when I reached the third step. The words felt bold, vulnerable, but I said them anyway.
“You could . . . join me. If you want.”
He froze mid-step, hand still on the light switch. His eyes searched mine in the dim entry light.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” I offered a small smile. “No pressure, but I, um— I miss you. Kissing me, touching me.”
Something flickered across his face. Regret, maybe. Or the same ache I’d been carrying for three days. In any case, he crossed the room in three strides, cupped my face in both hands, and kissed me.
I opened for him immediately, hands fisting in his shirt, tasting cinnamon sugar and salt on his tongue.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
“Bath,” he said, voice thick with need. “Now.”
Bennett had the primary bedroom, and the attached bath had the tub of my dreams. One deep and wide enough to accommodate my full body and then some. As the tub filled with scalding hot water, just the way I liked it, Bennett stripped us both.
I swallowed hard as his half-hard cock bobbed between us, already thickening further under my gaze.
The sight of him naked in the soft bathroom light made my core clench with a fresh, insistent ache.
God, he’s turned me into an animal. Three days of careful touches, forehead kisses, and sleeping wrapped around each other without anything more had left me starving.
He kissed the slope of my shoulder, and then stepped into the water, sinking down with a low groan of relief.
“Come here,” he said, holding out a hand.
I took it, stepping over the edge and lowering myself between his spread legs.
He guided me back until my spine met his chest, my head resting against his shoulder.
His arms came around me instantly. One banded low across my stomach, the other draping over my collarbone, hand splayed possessively between my breasts.
His cock pressed against the small of my back, hot and insistent, but he made no move to do anything about it.
For a long minute, we just sat there.
Heat seeped into my muscles, loosening the knots from hours of walking, dancing, laughing. I let my head tip back farther, eyes drifting shut.
“You’re tense,” he murmured, lips brushing my ear.
“Am not.”
His quiet laugh vibrated through my back. “Liar.”
His hands started moving then, palms sliding up my arms, thumbs digging gently into the tight muscles of my shoulders.
He worked in steady circles, pressing just hard enough to make me groan.
His mouth followed the path his hands carved out, pressing small kisses along my skin.
Each one sent delicious shivers racing across my body despite the heat of the water.
“I just realized this is the second massage I’ve had this week.”
He kneaded deeper into a knot near my shoulder blade. “Better not have looked like this.”
I laughed. “Jealous?”
“Possessive,” he corrected. His thumbs swept down either side of my spine now, following the line of my vertebrae. “There’s a difference. Jealous men are insecure. Possessive men don’t like other people touching their treasures.”
I tilted my head back farther, giving him better access to my neck. “Parker gave me a facial in my living room. That’s it.”
He hummed thoughtfully, his hand sliding around to cup the underside of my breast. Casually. Like he was just holding an apple. Although, truth be told, I was working with a lot more than apples. Papayas, maybe?
His thumb brushed idly over my nipple, making it tighten further.
“Parker can massage you all you want,” he murmured against my throat, kissing the pulse point there. “Just please, don’t go climbing into a tub with her.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Just territorial.” His other hand drifted lower, fingers trailing down my soft, rounded belly then lower still.
My thighs parted instinctively as they reached the apex, sliding through the water to find my folds.
“And you’re naked in my lap. And already wet.
After three days of me being very, very good about keeping my hands to myself. ”
“Bennett.”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Let me.”
He didn’t push inside me right away.
Just stroked featherlight passes over my clit. Then moved down to circle my entrance, gathering the slickness that had nothing to do with bathwater.
I rocked my hips up into his touch. He rewarded me by slipping one finger inside, curling it just enough to make my breath hitch.
“Fuck, I missed this,” I murmured into the steam.
“Me, too, baby. I didn’t want to rush this,” he continued, voice thick with restraint. “Didn’t want our first time back together to be me taking something when my head was still fucked up. I wanted to be sure I could give you everything. No fear or shadows.”
“You’re here now,” I whispered. “And I want all of you.”
“All of me.”
He added another finger, stretching me slowly, letting me feel the delicious burn. My walls fluttered around the intrusion.
He pumped them in and out of me, slow at first and then deeper, curling on every upstroke while his thumb found my clit again. The water sloshed around us, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.
“More.” I gasped, hips rocking shamelessly now, chasing the rhythm of his hand. “Please, give me more.”
He groaned low in his throat and slid a third finger inside me. The stretch was intense, filling me in a way that made my eyes roll back. He held still for a second, letting me adjust to the three thick fingers buried inside me.
Fuck.
I had never been stretched like this, not even with my toys. My walls fluttered helplessly around the intrusion. There was no escaping how much he was giving me. The pressure was exquisite, almost too much yet exactly what I craved. The slight burn only made the pleasure sharper, hotter.
“That’s it,” he whispered against my ear, voice dark and reverent. “Look at you taking three fingers for me like a good girl. So fucking tight, stretching around me like you were made for it.”
I whimpered, hips rocking forward in small, helpless circles, chasing more even though I was already impossibly full.
“You feel that?” he murmured, slowly withdrawing almost all the way before sliding back in.
Letting me feel every ridge, every goddamn knuckle as he filled me again.
“That’s just my fingers, baby. Imagine my cock.
Thicker, longer. Stretching this pretty, little pussy wide.
You’ll take every inch, won’t you, baby? ”
“Yes,” I gasped, voice breaking on the word.
“You’ll let me fuck you open until you’re crying my name and coming so hard, you soak the sheets?”
“Yessss. I want it, Bennett. I want your cock inside me. Filling me up, fucking me until I can’t think—”
The words dissolved into a moan as he curled all three fingers at once, stroking that spot inside me with brutal precision while his thumb ground down hard on my clit.
“That’s my girl,” he rasped, fingers pumping faster now.
Heat coiled tight in my belly, building fast. My thighs shook. My grip on his forearm turned bruising.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear. “Come for me. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers like you’re gonna squeeze my cock.”
I shattered with a choked cry, walls clamping down hard around him. Pulsing, fluttering. Wave after wave crashed over me. The only thing that kept me from going under was the hairy arm wrapped around my middle.
When the aftershocks finally ebbed, he eased his fingers out gently and kissed my temple.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “So fucking beautiful when you come for me, Arabella.”
When I could breathe again, I twisted enough to look at him. “I want you inside me,” I told him. “I’m ready.”
He kissed me again, but this time when he pulled back, his expression was soft.
“I want that more than anything,” he said. “But not tonight. Not the way I want to do it.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He brushed a wet curl off my forehead. “I want you for hours, Arabella. I’m going to take my time with you, baby, taste every inch of you. Twice. Fuck you slow until you’re begging, and then fast until we both can’t think straight and you fall asleep with me buried inside you.”
My breath caught at the raw want in his voice.
“But tomorrow is a big day,” he continued, thumb tracing my lower lip. “Batting practice at eight and my first game back after that. If we start tonight, I’m not stopping until the sun comes up. And I can’t do that to you, or to myself, when I need to be sharp tomorrow.”
I exhaled shakily, torn between frustration and understanding. “You’re killing me, King.”
He chuckled. “I know. I promise, tomorrow night, after the game, I’m all yours. I’ll barricade the doors shut if I need to.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I settled back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me again. The water was starting to cool, but neither of us moved to get out.
It was hard to believe that just three days ago, I’d been terrified I was losing him. Tonight, he was holding me like he would never let go. And tomorrow . . .
I turned my head just enough to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, tasting salt and warm skin.
“Tomorrow night,” I whispered.
“Tomorrow night,” he echoed. “I’m going to make you forget every minute we waited.”