37. Bennett
BENNETT
T he ride to my penthouse is exquisite torture. Layla sits beside me, close enough to touch but maintaining careful distance, as if testing whether this reconciliation is real.
“A week without you is too long,” she says quietly, her fingers finding mine in the darkness.
“An eternity,” I agree, lifting our joined hands to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I won't survive another separation like that.”
She turns toward me, and I see my own desperation reflected in her eyes. “Good thing you won't have to,” she whispers, her free hand sliding up my chest to rest over my heart. “I don't want to fight you anymore, Bennett. I want to fight for us.”
The simple declaration undoes me completely. I pull her across the seat until she's practically in my lap, my mouth finding hers with a hunger that's been building for days.
The kiss is desperate, all teeth and tongue and the taste of champagne mixed with tears neither of us will acknowledge. Her dress rides up as she straddles me, midnight blue silk bunching around her thighs.
“I missed you,” she whispers against my lips, voice breaking. “Even when I was furious with you, I missed you.”
My hands frame her face, thumbs brushing away moisture at the corners of her eyes. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
She grinds against me, and I bite back a groan at the friction. Even through my tuxedo pants, I can feel her heat, her need matching mine.
“Tell me this is real,” she breathes, fingers threading through my hair. “Tell me we're really doing this.”
“Look at me.” I wait until her eyes meet mine. “This is real. You're it for me, Layla. I'm not letting anything come between us again.”
Something in her expression crumbles—the last of her walls falling away. When she kisses me this time, it's with complete surrender, complete trust. My control wavers.
My hands slide up her thighs, finding the delicate lace of her underwear already damp with arousal. “So wet for me,” I murmur, stroking her through the fabric. “Did you miss this too?”
“Yes,” she gasps, hips bucking into my touch. “Every night.”
I slip beneath the lace, finding her slick and ready. Her head falls back as I stroke her, her breathing shallow and quick.
“That's it,” I encourage, watching her face as pleasure builds. “Let me see how much you need this.”
She rides my hand with increasing desperation, chasing release after days of emptiness. When she comes apart in my arms, my name falling from her lips in a whisper, I capture the sound with my mouth, swallowing her cries.
“I love you,” I whisper against her temple as she trembles against me. “I need you to know that.”
“I love you too,” she breathes, and the simple words heal something broken inside me.
The car slows as we approach my building. Layla slides off my lap reluctantly, smoothing her dress with shaking hands. I adjust myself as discreetly as possible, though the evidence of my arousal is impossible to hide.
“Ready?” I ask, though I'm not sure I can walk straight after what just happened.
Her smile is pure temptation. “More than ready.”
The doorman greets us with professional discretion, though I catch him noticing Layla's flushed cheeks and the mark darkening on her neck where my mouth found purchase. I guide her to the private elevator, my hand possessive at her back.
The moment the doors close, she turns to me with intent blazing in her eyes.
“Now,” she says simply.
She’s here. Really here. And for the first time in days, I can breathe.
I pin her against the elevator wall, my mouth claiming hers as my hands grip her waist. She tastes like everything I've been craving for five endless days.
“I'm going to worship every inch of you tonight,” I murmur against her lips. “Make you forget we were ever apart.”
Her breath catches, pupils dilating as she arches into me. “Yes. Please. ”
The elevator climbs toward home, toward the future we're both fighting for. When the doors open, I lift her into my arms.
“You're so beautiful,” I tell her, because it's true and because I've been denied the privilege of saying it for too long.
She frames my face with her hands. “I've missed this place. Missed you in it.”
“It wasn't home without you,” I confess, carrying her toward the bedroom. “Nothing was.”
I set her down beside the bed, my hands trembling slightly as I reach for the zipper of her dress. “Are you sure about this? About us?”
Her answer is to turn, lifting her hair so I can access the zipper.
The dress slides down her body like water, pooling at her feet in midnight blue silk.
She stands before me in nothing but delicate lace, and the sight steals my breath.
Not just the physical, but the trust in her eyes, the love written across her features.
“My turn,” she whispers, her fingers working at my bow tie.
I let her undress me slowly, her hands mapping my chest as if reacquainting herself with every plane and angle. When she pushes my shirt from my shoulders, her lips follow, pressing soft kisses to my collarbone, my sternum, the spot over my heart that beats only for her.
My hands tangle in her hair as she continues her exploration, her mouth trailing fire across my skin. When she reaches for my belt, her movements become urgent, desperate.
“I need you in my mouth,” she murmurs. “Need to remember everything I've been missing. ”
When her mouth follows her hands, hot and wet and perfect, I have to brace myself against the bedpost to keep from falling. She works me like she was born to, her tongue swirling around the head before she takes me deeper.
“Fuck, Layla,” I groan, my hands fisting in her hair. “Just like that.”
She pulls back with a wicked smile. “I want all of it tonight, Bennett. Everything you can give to me.”
“Holy fuck.” My dick jolts as she wraps her mouth around me again, humming as she sucks back and forth, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure up my spine. I can feel my control slipping, my release building faster than I want.
“Fuck, Layla.”
I pull her up before I lose myself completely, needing to be inside her when I come. Her lips are swollen, her eyes dark with arousal as I stand her in front of me.
“Not yet,” I pant. “I want more of you first.”
I lift her easily, carrying her to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Pressing her palms flat against the cool glass, I position myself behind her, my chest to her back.
“Someone might see,” she gasps as I free her breasts and press her against the window.
“Let them,” I growl against her neck, my hands sliding around her ribs to the underside of her heavy tits. “Let the whole city see you're mine again.”
“Oh, Bennett.”
My length presses hard against her ass as I reach around with one hand, sliding beneath the lace of her underwear. She's so soaked, so ready for me, and I groan at the evidence of her need .
“I love how fucking wet you get,” I murmur in her ear, my fingers finding her clit. “Tell me you were thinking about this during the gala. About me touching you like this.”
“Yes,” she pants, her hips grinding back against me and my cock aches. “Every second. I wanted you to fuck me on the dancefloor.”
“I almost did,” I growl, spinning her around to face me. “Everyone watching while I claimed what's mine.”
I drop to my knees before her, hooking my fingers into the delicate lace of her underwear and dragging it down her legs. She steps out of them, trembling as I press my mouth to her inner thigh.
“Bennett,” she whimpers, her fingers threading through my hair. “Please.”
I look up at her, framed against the Chicago skyline, her naked body glowing in the light filtering through the windows. She's never looked more beautiful, more mine .
“I never want to risk losing you again,” I tell her, my hands sliding up her thighs.
“You won't,” she breathes, her hands cupping my face. “Never again.”
When my mouth finally finds her center, she cries out, her head falling back against the glass. I worship her with lips and tongue, relearning every spot that makes her tremble, every touch that draws those breathless sounds from her throat. Her fingers tighten in my hair.
“God, I missed this,” she gasps, her hips rolling against my mouth. “Missed you.”
I slide two fingers inside her as my tongue circles her clit, feeling her walls clench around me. She's close already, her breathing ragged, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.
“Come for me,” I murmur against her. “Let me taste how much you missed me.”
She shatters with a cry that echoes off the windows, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over her. I don't stop until she's pulling at my hair, oversensitive and shaking.
“Bennett!”
Rising to my feet, I lift her against me, her legs wrapping around my waist as I press her back against the glass, positioning myself at her entrance.
“I have to have you now,” I growl, my control hanging by a thread.
“Yes,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Please, Bennett.”
I enter her in one powerful thrust, both of us crying out at the sensation of being joined again. She's tight, heaven, everything I need and more. I remain still for a moment, overwhelmed by the intimacy of it. Not just our bodies connected, but our hearts, our futures intertwined.
“Move,” she breathes. “Please, Bennett.”
I begin a slow rhythm, wanting to savor every sensation, every response. This isn't just sex. It's a claiming, a promise, a new beginning. Her body rolls to meet mine with each thrust, and I lose myself in the feeling of her around me, in the sounds of pleasure she makes against my neck.
“I love you,” I whisper, my forehead pressed to hers as we move together. “I love you so much it terrifies me.”
“Me too,” she breathes, her eyes locked on mine. “I love you so much it hurts. I’m nothing if I’m not yours, Bennett.”
Her words undo me completely. I carry her to the bed, never breaking our connection, laying her down and thrusting her into position. She cries out.
“You are so fucking mine, Layla.”
The position change allows me to go deeper, and she arches beneath me with a gasp that makes my blood sing.
“Harder,” she whispers, her hands on my biceps. “I want to feel you for days.”
I give her what she wants, what we both need. Deep, claiming strokes that leave no doubt about who she belongs to. Her legs wrap around my waist, holding me close as we find our rhythm.
“Tell me again,” I demand, my voice rough with emotion and desire.
“I love you,” she gasps, her back arching. “I love you, Bennett. Forever.”
The word breaks something loose in my chest. Forever. Not just tonight, not just until the next crisis threatens to tear us apart. Forever.
“Forever,” I rasp, close to the edge. I fight for control, needing her to reach her peak one more time before I follow. I shift the angle slightly, finding the spot that I know makes her see stars.
“Right there,” she cries, her body beginning to tremble. “Don't stop.”
I don't. I drive into her with increasing intensity, watching her face as pleasure builds, as she climbs toward yet another release. When she finally breaks, my name tearing from her throat, her body clenching around mine in waves of ecstasy, I finally let loose .
“Layla!” My release tears through me with a ridiculous amount of force, years of control and careful distance shattered by the woman shuddering beneath me. I collapse beside her, gathering her close, unwilling to break the connection between us.
“My god, Bennett. That was...” she begins, then stops, seemingly at a loss for words.
“Perfect,” I breathe, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead. “You're perfect.”
She turns in my arms, her eyes soft with satisfaction and love. “We're going to be OK, aren't we? Really OK this time?”
“More than OK,” I promise, pulling her closer until there's no space between us. “We're going to be extraordinary.”
She smiles, the expression lighting up her entire face. “I like the sound of that.”
As she settles against my chest, her breathing evening out toward sleep, I marvel at the woman in my arms. The one who challenged everything I thought I knew about myself. The one who made me want to be better, to build instead of destroy.
“Layla?” I whisper into the darkness.
“Mmm?”
“Welcome home.”
Her answer is a contented sigh that speaks of new beginnings, of trust rebuilt, of a love strong enough to weather any storm.
For the first time in days—maybe years—I fall asleep completely at peace.