Chapter 31
Remi
The house is blissfully empty. Benson follows me upstairs, his soft footsteps and quiet presence impossible to miss.
I set the flower on my dresser before turning his way, my eyes skipping to my closet where a certain something is waiting. Benson watches me closely as I come to a stop in front of him.
“Have you ever been rimmed, Ben?”
His breath puffs out before he gives a subtle shake of his head.
“Would you want to try it?”
He plucks at the neckline of my sweater, smoothing out the fabric before his thumb glides along my collarbone. His gaze stays there. “I haven’t, um…gotten ready for that?”
“Shower with me?”
He nods, and I gently tug off my CI, setting it on my nightstand.
Steam is curling in the bathroom when we step into the shower. I get distracted for a moment by the sight of Benson wet, rivulets of water running through the hair on his chest, down his stomach, toward his half-hard cock.
His hands pull my attention upward. ‘What do I do?’
‘Wash with soap and water,’ I answer simply. ‘I can help?’
He pauses. ‘I don’t need to…’
‘Douche? No. My tongue isn’t that long.’
His chest moves in a huff, the smile on his face assuring me he’s amused. I grab the soap, waiting until Benson nods to smooth my sudsy hands around to his ass. He pulls in a breath, cheeks red.
His arms move in the space between us, motions almost staccato. ‘I have hair…there. I haven’t…shaved.’
Hands occupied, I reply, “That’s fine, Ben. I don’t mind.”
He looks dubious, so I go on.
“I assume at least one of the women you’ve been with had pubic hair?”
‘Of course,’ he answers.
“Did it bother you when you went down on them?”
His brow smooths out.
“See? Not a problem,” I assure him, sliding a hand between his ass cheeks. “It’s natural. And it certainly won’t stop my tongue.”
He mouths a, “Fuck,” as I press the pads of two fingers against him, his head dropping back for a second before he grips my shoulder to steady himself.
“Okay?” I check.
He nods, a rapid movement. Knowing he’s not a fan of singular attention during these moments, I grab his jaw with my other hand and tug him down to meet me.
His mouth is hot, his beard damp, as we kiss.
There’s an urgency to it that’s not coming from me alone.
His palm fits to my cheek, keeping me close as I graze the pads of my fingers over him.
When his breath stutters, I break from his mouth.
“Stroke me, Ben?”
He does without question, his hand wrapping around my cock and squeezing so perfectly my eyes fall shut.
“Christ, that’s good. I love the way you touch me. The way you make me feel like I’m the only person you see.” I open my eyes and rub over his asshole again, watching the flickers of expression that cross his face. “Can I slip a finger inside you?”
Benson nods, and I don’t make him wait or give him time to worry. With one hand sliding over his cock, I press a finger into his ass up to the second knuckle and hold there. The way he squeezes me as I stroke his dick has my own cock throbbing.
“Just so you know,” I manage, doing my best to distract both him and me, “I cleaned myself out before the bonfire. So whenever you’re ready, so am I.”
He nods several times, his grip on my cock faltering when I pump my finger inside of him slowly. He rumbles against me, dropping his face to my neck.
“Good or weird?” I ask.
He lifts one hand to nod his yes.
I huff a laugh and pull my finger free, positive Benson is clean enough for what we have planned. Grabbing the soap again, I give my body a quick once-over to wash away fresh sweat and tug Benson out of the shower.
We dry off swiftly, and I have to resist the urge to back him into the wall right here in the bathroom. I’ll have my mouth on him soon enough.
In my bedroom, I bypass the cardboard box where Mouse is sleeping and pull open the closet door, first retrieving a brown leather hat from the top shelf.
I rarely ever wear it, preferring a ballcap in the summer or nothing at all.
But the way Benson’s eyes rove over me when I slip the leather on my head is oh so worth it.
“Ben… Do you remember our deal?”
He lifts one hand to fingerspell, ‘Chaps.’
I grin at him, turning back around to grab the worn leather chaps sitting on the floor of my closet.
I hold them up for Benson to see. “When I come back into this room, I want you on my bed wearing these. We’re going to find out if you like having my tongue in your ass, and then you’re going to fuck me until we’re too tired to keep going. ”
He swallows roughly. ‘Water?’
Laughing, I toss him the chaps. “Yeah. You have one minute.”
Towel around my hips, I walk out of the room with a skip in my step. Downstairs, I fill up a large thermos with ice water and then slowly make my way back up to the second floor. Figuring Benson has had long enough, I step into my doorway and promptly lose my breath.
Benson is seated on the edge of my bed, the comforter perfectly straightened underneath him as if he took the time to make sure his presentation was on point.
With nothing but brown leather chaps over his parted legs, his bare feet resting on the ground, he looks like every dirty fantasy I’ve had over the years.
And it’s not because he resembles a cowboy.
He looks like he belongs. Right here. On this ranch.
And he does.
His elbows are resting on his knees, his attention on me. The tops of his inner thighs and cock are on display, as well as the rest of him, but it’s his brown eyes I return to.
“Jesus, Ben. Do you have any idea how handsome you are? How perfect?”
He doesn’t answer, not that I expect him to. I hand over the thermos of water and wait as he swallows down a few mouthfuls. Once done, his fingers trail over my stomach toward my towel. I let him grab the edge before I step back, the fabric falling away as I set the thermos aside.
He motions me closer, but I shake my head. “Could you do something for me?”
Curious, he nods.
I let out a breath and smile. “Be a good boy for me and spread your legs.”
Benson’s cock kicks, and my smile widens. He leans back on one hand, his other slipping under his knee to pull his leg to the side. I groan, the man staying there for my perusal, even though I know that’s not an easy thing for him.
“I have never seen anything I want more than you in this moment,” I tell him truthfully. “Lie back and let me show you?”
He shudders out a breath but nods, falling back against the bedding with one hand over his eyes. I slip between his legs, tossing my hat beside him on the bed before lowering to my knees. I kiss his thigh on the way down, the base of his cock.
“Ben.”
The moment he lifts his head enough to see me, I draw his cock between my lips. He’s riveted to the sight of himself disappearing into my mouth. I know exactly how intoxicating that view is, having been on the receiving end with Benson multiple times.
When I’m fairly certain Benson is no longer focused on his ass, I head that way, murmuring against his skin. “If you want me to stop and can’t reach me, pat the bed.”
I see a shaky thumbs-up before I’m tugging Benson to the edge of the mattress and settling in.
I press one leg up toward his stomach, and he gets the hint, grabbing on to keep himself open for me.
He smells like my soap and leather and looks exactly like a man waiting to have his asshole licked. So I do just that.
He jerks at the first swipe of my tongue. “Are you aware of how many nerve endings you have down here?”
There’s a rumble above me and a quick pinch of fingers.
“It’s a hell of a lot.” I ring him with my tongue, grinning as another rumble reaches the palm I have resting on Benson’s stomach. “You’re sensitive to pressure…”
I push my tongue against him in a dragging swipe.
“Sensitive to touch…”
Lighter this time, I flick the tip of my tongue against him until his leg slips off the bed. I wrap that one over my shoulder, the leather soft against my skin.
“Sensitive to temperature.”
I blow before soothing the chill with another lick.
“And if you happen to have a prostate, it gets even more fun.”
I can’t reach that point with my tongue, but I still press against him until his body starts to yield. His stomach is rising and falling rapidly, and a quick check of his cock shows he’s leaking now.
I let him hear the truth in my words. “So good for me, Ben.”
His hands shake in the air. ‘I’m not doing anything.’
“You’re letting me appreciate you. Letting me make you feel good, which makes me feel good. You’re trusting me with your body. With something new. None of that is small.”
Benson watches me closely as I slowly stroke his cock. Finally, he nods his fist.
I give him a grin. “Good boy. Now let me finish my meal, and then you can have your payback.”
His chest heaves as he laughs, his chap-clad leg flexing against my shoulder. I drop my head, spread his ass cheeks wide, and lick the man until he’s squirming so hard I worry he’ll come. He starts patting the bed at the same time that I pull away, his cheeks red.
‘Too close.’
I stand, letting Benson’s leg drop. “In that case, I’ll grab the saddle butter—”
Benson doesn’t let me finish that sentence.
He wraps his legs around me and twists his hips, effectively tossing me onto the mattress.
I laugh as I bounce, Benson in front of me before the world has stopped spinning.
Hands in my hair, he tilts my head, kissing my neck, my throat, my chin, heading toward my lips.
I manage words between my breaths. “My mouth was just…”
He sits upright to sign. ‘I know where your mouth was, Remi. If my asshole is clean enough for you to lick, then there’s certainly nothing that’s going to stop me from kissing you.’
I lift my own hands, smile wide. ‘All right, then. Carry on.’
He nods firmly, and then he’s back in front of me, his mouth parting mine in nudges and nips. My body melts under the onslaught, every bit of my focus on Benson’s mouth. So when his fingers draw like a paintbrush up my cock, I nearly jolt.