Chapter 13 #2
Inside I stumble, only managing to stay upright thanks to the death grip he has on my waist. Ben pulls back, palms sliding down my body as he goes to his knees.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, a shiver running up my spine as his hand slips into the slit of the dress, gripping the back of my thigh.
“Hold still.”
It’s a quiet demand. His other hand goes to my ankle, flicking the delicate clasp open easily, sliding first one heel off and then the other.
My fingers card through his hair and Ben groans, leaning into me, burying his face at the apex of my thighs—nothing but the creamy, dark fabric of the dress separating his hot mouth from my core.
“Ben,” I whisper, grip tightening as his fingers graze my legs, moving aside the dress. Silent, he guides my leg over his shoulder, pulling me closer and ducking under the silk to press a wet kiss to my underwear.
A whimper slips out. My hips rock forward, wanting more, and Ben obliges, diving in and kissing me like I’ve never been kissed by anyone. Like my pussy is the best thing he’s tasted all night.
His fingers tear at my underwear until I finally help him shimmy them down. It’s a frenzy, and even barefoot with my toes in the rug I almost tip over, gasping as he catches me by the hips and gives me a sharp look.
“I told you to hold still.”
I nod as he guides my leg back up, knee hooked over his shoulder, this time going slowly…
His tongue drags a barely-there trail up my slit, earning a shaking breath from me. “Oh, fuck,” I whisper, rocking my hips forward again. “Ben, please.”
He presses one last kiss to my pussy and stands, towering over me, shirt and jacket rumpled. I pull the latter from his shoulders, then start working on the buttons of his shirt, standing on tip toe to kiss him. To taste myself on his lips.
Ben moans against my mouth, hand cradling the back of my head as I fumble the buttons, finally pushing the shirt off his shoulders and dragging my palms down the hard ridges of his body. His erection is like iron against my thighs and my mouth waters as I pull away.
“Go sit on the couch.”
He cocks a brow, giving me a lopsided smirk. “I thought I was the one giving orders.”
Shaking my head, I walk backward carefully. He can’t resist following. The straps slip off my shoulders easily, dark silk pooling at my feet as my body is finally exposed to him.
“You wanted to thank me. I have an idea of how you can do that.”
He moves forward hungrily, quickly, pulling me against his body. My nipples peak against his hot skin as he devours my mouth once more, then whispers, “I like your ideas, Madeline. Show me what you’ve got in that brilliant brain of yours.”
Triumph thrills through me as I step away and take him in. His cock presses against the charcoal fabric of his trousers, unmistakably throbbing.
“Take those off.”
Benedict Bronson does as I say. Slowly. His eyes on me as the belt clanks open, slides off, hits the floor. He flicks open the button and steps out of his trousers, only dark boxers barely masking how badly he wants this.
“Those too.” My smirk mirrors his. He shakes his head, but follows my orders, shucking off the boxers and standing bare before me.
For just a moment I want to do what he did earlier; drop to my knees, worship him. Feel the hot, hard, silky length of him at the back of my throat, making me gag.
Instead, I repeat my earlier demand: “The couch.”
Ben obeys, sauntering over to the couch and dropping onto it, his arms spread along the back. His cock bobs upright, precum weeping from the tip, and it’s all I can do to keep my composure as I move toward him and straddle his lap.
I press a kiss to his neck, feel him shiver, and reach down to grip his length.
Somehow just touching him makes me want him even more.
Twice now Ben has brought me to climax, but the first time he took me from behind.
It was fast, hot, a tsunami that drowned out my logic before I could savor the moment.
And at the cabins… he wouldn’t let me touch him, just brought me to orgasm with those perfect fingers.
Now, though, I can take my time. The head of his cock nudges my entrance, and I barely drop down on it, eyes rolling back as just the tip stretches me.
“God, Maddie,” Ben moans, his arms coming down to wrap around me. But I tighten my thighs, refusing to take him fully yet.
“Mm mm,” I chastise, barely bobbing up and down, letting him breach me over and over—listening as he starts to pant, his fingers digging into my lower back.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he grounds out, and my hips drop down until his cock is fully seated inside, pain and pleasure arching my back. Ben’s grip tightens and he rocks me forward, the obscene sounds of just how wet I am filling the room.
“I think about this,” I gasp, rising up only to crash down again, riding his cock, “every time I see you sitting in your office. Legs spread just like this. I think about how badly I want to ride you and feel you stretch me like this.”
Ben lets out a quiet curse, leaning forward and burying his face in my tits as the pace quickens.
He licks, bites, a messy mix of affection and lust as I get wetter and wetter, my walls gripping at his cock desperately with every roll of my hips.
Ben’s hands grasp my ass, and he bounces me up and down at a bruising pace, each jerk pulling a whimper or moan from me as I get closer and closer to coming.
Then, abruptly, he braces me at the very tip of his cock. My pussy clenches uselessly, clit throbbing.
“At the restaurant,” he growls, a hand coming around to massage my breast gently, “you told them I know a woman’s body better than any of those idiots you’ve fucked around with.”
I nod, the dirty words coming from his mouth only heightening how crazed I am for him. I try to rock my hips forward, but he gives my ass a sharp slap, eyes on mine.
“What made you say that, Maddie?”
A stream of thoughts jumbles together in my head, mouth parting. What do I say? That every word was true? That I’m constantly impressed by him, that he’s more than just his money, that this town is full of morons if they think less of him for marrying me?
“I wanted them to know that you were going to take me home,” I whisper, voice shaky, “and fuck me right.”
He thrusts up into me, slowly, like a reward. I can’t stop the whimper as his cock bottoms out, then pulls out quickly.
“You like the way I fuck you?”
I nod, licking my lips, wanting more in my mouth. Somehow Ben takes the hint, and his fingers brush my bottom lip, then two slip just inside—press against my tongue.
“You wanted them all to know what I’d do to you later, didn’t you? What I’m doing to you right now?”
Another nod, mindless. “It doesn’t matter,” I ramble, trying to force my hips down against his tight grip again, and failing, “the age gap doesn’t matter. I want this. I want you.”
Just like that, Ben’s control breaks. He holds me in place, pounding into me, skin slapping and sticking with every violent thrust. My pussy throbs, trying to grip against the friction, and Ben finally lets me go when I whine.
Our rhythms sync up effortlessly. I bounce on his cock, fingers digging into his shoulder as the coil comes undone in my belly and the orgasm crests over me. Throwing my head back, I moan his name and ride him until my entire body is both numb and on fire, buzzing and aching and throbbing.
Just as my mind starts to clear, Ben curses and pulls me off of him, seating me on his thighs as he pumps his cock with two quick strokes. Jizz paints my stomach and thighs, dripping down between us as he groans and goes boneless.
The room is dark when it’s over, only the glow of the moon through the curtains. We’re both trying to catch our breath.
Wordlessly, Ben lifts me off his lap and onto the couch, then stands and disappears into the en suite. He returns a moment later with a warm, wet towel and presses it to my thighs. I take it gratefully and clean up, feeling drained and satiated and exhausted.
My brows furrow as logic comes back. What will he do now? Leave, I assume, head back to his own room.
But the sound of the shower turning on fills the room, and Ben appears in the doorway. He gestures and I follow, back to obeying. Whatever he wants, as long as he keeps making me feel this way.
We both step into the shower and clean up in silence. Water droplets glint in Ben’s hair. When I turn away, he presses close, carefully, hands running soap up my front, gently cupping my breasts as he buries his face in my neck.
We towel off and walk naked back into the bedroom without any words. I climb into bed and Ben follows, slipping beneath the covers, our breath syncing up.
This is dangerous. We’re teetering on the edge of something we can’t undo.
But as his hand finds mine beneath the sheets, fingers twining, I don’t care.
Not tonight.