Chapter 3
THREE
Bennett
The first thing I noticed about her was her waist, and how her ass flared out as she sat. But the moment I decided I wanted to fuck her was when she brought her tongue to her lips, deep in thought. It gave me an instant hard-on.
Then she started talking. And somehow that didn’t put me off like it usually does.
“Nice place,” I say as I glance around at her apartment. I didn’t tell her I was staying at the hotel. I just said my place was downtown. Not a lie.
“Thanks. It’s not mine. I’m borrowing it while I’m in New York.” I know she’s telling the truth. For some reason, I can feel in my bones that this woman can’t lie. She doesn’t have it in her.
With the British accent, it makes sense that she doesn’t live in New York. All the better for me. I don’t like the possibility of running into women I’ve slept with. Not unless it’s intentional.
“I’m having a summer of fun,” she says. “Doing lots of different jobs. You know? Like you said, I don’t believe in limiting myself.”
She could be me at twenty. As a kid, family and friends would ask me what I wanted to do when I “grew up”. Ironic, given my mother played pretend for a living until she died at forty-four. I used to give a different answer every time—doctor, explorer, superhero. Not because I had changed my mind, but because I wanted to do all those things. That’s what’s so great about tech. It encompasses so much, from medicine to maps and everything in between.
She faces me wearing a full-on smile, like she’s a movie heroine returning home to find her lover waiting at the airport with a big sign. Except she’s not acting. There’s nothing affected about her smile. Her genuineness nudges something awake inside me that’s been long dormant.
I slide my hand across my chest, trying to push the feeling away.
“You okay?” she asks, like she can read my shift in focus.
I don’t think there’s anything this woman could say right now that could make me leave. She’s obviously gorgeous. Her skin is smooth like a peach and she has a freckle to the side of her mouth I want to lick off. And her lips? They’re full and ripe and luscious and… she’s every fantasy come to life.
But her openness? That’s why I’m not walking away. Her openness is a hook. And I’m the fish.
I’ve had enough of talking. I take off my jacket and throw it on the couch.
“You want a drink?” she asks and flips on a light switch.
I shake my head, flip the light switch back off and stalk over to her. She starts to step backwards, and I keep walking until she’s backed against the pillar to one side of the gigantic window.
Her laugh makes the muscles in my jaw tense, while the softness in her eyes makes me want to do Very. Dirty. Things.
It’s been longer than I like to think about since I’ve gotten laid. It doesn’t help that I’m stuck in the hotel for the moment, and I don’t want them knowing my business or who I’m fucking. I’m beginning to learn that hotel staff gossip, and I don’t like anyone gossiping about me, regardless of the name I’m using.
I dip down and sweep my lips across hers. Her fingers press against my jaw, and I feel my body start to take over my brain. Sex is a way of switching off—the ultimate relaxation and exactly what I need. To stop thinking. Just for an hour. Or two.
I lift her leg up over my hip and slide my hand down and under and between. All that’s standing between me and soft warm pussy is denim.
I bet she’s wet already.
Her breathing is shallow and her breasts push against my chest as she tries to breathe more deeply.
I reach for the hem of her t-shirt and pull it off in one swift movement. I just have to have more of her. Maybe it’s the accent or the way her skin seems to glow. Maybe it was the way she was trying to be kind to the scrawny bartender who was being a dick about giving her the fucking pretentious flashlight in the barely lit bar. They need lights so people can read the fucking menu, so people can fucking order. People should never feel awkward spending more money.
Am I the only person in New York with a business brain? Sometimes it feels that way.
Leo might be right—staying at the hotel might give me a competitive advantage. But I don’t want to think about that right now.
The half-naked woman in front of me is mine for tonight. That’s what I need to focus on.
I snap her bra clasp open and cup her breasts, rubbing a thumb over each nipple. Her breasts are bigger than I normally go for but they’re tight, nipples jutting out like they’re desperate for someone to pay them a little attention. She’s young.
Fuck . How young?
“Where did you go to college?” I hold my hands away from her like she’s pointing a gun at me.
The expression of bliss on her face gives way to a frown. “What?”
“College?” I snap. “Where did you go?” There’s no way I’m getting myself into the mess of fucking someone underage.
“Exeter. In England. Why?”
Fuck, I don’t know anything about English colleges. Exeter? Is that made up?
“You graduated?” I ask.
“Is this a job interview?” she asks. “You’re either going to put your hands on me or you’re going to have to leave. I don’t want a job. Not from you, anyway.”
For a split second, I want to ask her who she wants a job from. Most people would pay me to work for me. And then she reaches her hand to my crotch, and I come back to my senses.
I grab her wrist and pin it to the column above. I press a kiss to her neck. “How old are you?” I growl against her skin. She smells of peaches and something darker. Something older.
“Twenty-one,” she pants. Her hips lift away from the column and press against me. “Does it matter?”
I hesitate and wonder if I should ask for ID, but she pushes me away and slides down her jeans.
I’m fucking gone.
This woman’s body is incredible. Soft and curvy. The glow coming in from the city light it up like she’s a fucking painting. Every curve and mound. Everything about her is sexy.
“You have a beautiful body,” I say.
She nods. “Right.” She pushes out a hip and puts a hand on it. “And it’s just going to waste right now. So… you need to do your thing.”
I huff out a laugh. She’s got a point. I need to stop fucking around and start fucking her .
I undo my shirt buttons and strip down until we’re facing each other naked. It’s an unfair trade. She can see I’m hard. But I don’t know exactly how wet she is.
I take two steps toward her, lift her leg over my hip again. This time there’s no denim in the way and I can sink my fingers into her. We both exhale at the same time, deriving pleasure from the same thing. Feeling. Sensation. Anticipation.
My brain begins to unlock, like I needed this. Her. To enable myself to let go a little. I smooth my fingers along her folds and she starts to writhe. She has no idea how good tonight is going to get.
She starts to reach for me, but that’s not how this is going to go. Like most things, sex is about layers, and layer one is about finding out how she works. What makes her sigh. What makes her scream. What makes her sing.
I push deeper, all the while not taking my gaze from hers. Her eyes flit around as if she’s looking for an explanation to go along with the feelings in her body. She doesn’t need to make it so complicated. It’s right in front of her.
It’s me.
I’m doing that to you.
I’m making you feel that good. That quickly. That deeply.
I bring my other hand to her nipple and pinch. And she comes, juddering on my fingers.
That was easy.
“What the fuck was that?” she asks breathlessly, her hands holding my shoulders, keeping herself upright.
I raise my eyebrows and smirk. I expect her to elaborate, but she just looks at me expectantly.
I sink to my knees. There’s nothing better than a face full of pussy. I’ve heard there are guys who never go down on women. Who the fuck are they and why the fuck not?
“Bennett,” she cries as I grab her ass, keeping her steady as I explore her with my mouth.
Christ this feels good. Like… coming home or something.
I work my tongue between her folds, but she’s struggling to stay upright. Her first orgasm has left her weak. Maybe I should have given her a few minutes to recover. I guide her down to the floor, open her legs, and resume my feast. She tastes sweet and hot, and her symphony of moans and cries urge me on. It’s like she has some kind of dopamine gun and she’s shooting me full of the stuff.
Sex is all about gratification. But the woman under me seems to promise more than that. It’s like there’s gold in there and I’m searching for it. There’s something about her that makes me want more.
“Bennett,” she cries out again, and I pause to look up at her as she comes. Again.
I shift, pressing kisses up from her pussy.
She whispers something but I don’t catch it.
“Get off!” she screams.
I freeze, and then pull away. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure,” she says, as she lifts her arms above her head. “I’m really not sure. All I know is you have to keep away from me. At least let me recover before you touch me again. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but it’s powerful magic that you have and I need to regain my strength.”
I laugh. This woman is so… different.
I stand, bend, and scoop her up, ignoring her yelping. Glancing around, I see the door to what I presume is a bedroom and head there. It can’t be comfortable lying on the floor. She’ll recover more quickly if she’s comfortable.
She sighs as I lay her down. I double back and go get water for us both.
“Bring condoms,” she calls out.
I chuckle at her request.
“Here,” I say, offering her one of the glasses of water.
“Did you bring condoms?”
I hold up my wallet. “But take your time. I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“How old are you?” she asks. She sits up, and I try not to look at the sway of her breasts because I’m already as hard as it’s possible to be. I don’t need additional encouragement.
“Thirty-four,” I reply, shifting to sit against the headboard.
“Maybe magic comes with age.” Her eyes slice to my wallet on the bedside table and then back to meet mine.
Carefully, she places her hands on my arms and straddles me. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I reply.
“I think you’re really handsome.”
I get that tug, deep inside me again.
“I think you’re really beautiful.”
A shy smile uncurls on her face. She presses her fingertips into my skin, over my collarbones, up my neck and over my jaw, almost like she’s modeling me out of clay, putting her finishing touches to her creation.
Tentatively she leans forward and places a kiss on my lips. Something tells me she wants to lead this. I try to tamp down the urge to take over and set the pace. She shifts her body closer to mine and her hand comes up to hold my face. My lips open to let in her warm tongue, and as mine meets hers, the growl I’ve been holding back escapes. She gasps and pulls back.
She sighs. “Thank god. I thought you might actually be able to make me come from that sound alone.”
I grin and cup her face, leaning forward for a follow-up kiss. It somehow feels chaste and intimate and… unusual to be in bed like this, talking and kissing.
“I need you to be careful with me,” she says, looking at me. She reaches for my wallet, but I get to it before she does. I don’t want her seeing my full name anywhere. I take out one of the condoms and hand it to her.
“Careful?” I ask.
She takes a breath, and I feel her body lift from where it’s connected to mine. “I just think you could break me.” She’s not joking. There’s no humor to her voice. She hands me back the condom.
“I’ll be careful,” I reply.
I put the condom on and she moves away and lies back on the bed, nudging me with her knee. The expression on her face is so innocent. So tentative. It unleashes some kind of protectiveness or possessiveness in me.
As I move over her, our bodies slide together like they’re locking into place, like she’s opening herself up and it’s because of me. I push into her, carefully, slowly, for her and also for me. I need to take this slow. She’s so concentrated that I might overdose on her if I don’t proceed with caution.
I dip and press a kiss to her neck and I feel her exhale. “You feel so perfect,” I whisper. She’s tight and soft and warm, and I want the next five seconds to play on a loop for the next year.
“Bennett,” she cries out, her fingernails sinking into my shoulders. It feels good to hear my name from her mouth. Too good. I start to move and immediately my skin goes hot.
“I’m going to try really—” She stops as I plow into her. “I’m going to try really hard not to come.”
That’s what she’s worried about?
“I want you to come,” I growl. “And then I want you to come again.”
She whimpers underneath me.
“You don’t need to worry. About anything,” I assure her. “I’m here.”
She freezes, and then starts to shake as she comes again. I don’t know if it was my words that pushed her over the edge, but it feels powerful to be able to make her feel good and safe at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
At least I won’t feel bad when I last less than ten minutes fucking her. It’s not normally a problem I have but there’s nothing normal about tonight.
I thrust into her. “Don’t ever apologize. Making you come…”
I can’t finish the end of my sentence. Because what would I say? Making you come feels powerful, feels right, feels like something I’ve never experienced before. I can’t say any of that because it’s cheesy as fuck. I met this woman a couple of hours ago.
These feelings are obviously because I’ve gone too long without a naked woman underneath me. Which means none of what’s in my head better make its way out of my mouth.
She wraps her legs around me, the change of angle making me clench my jaw and fist my hands. Her palms leave a trail of heat in their wake as she brings them down my chest. She circles her fingers around the base of me and squeezes as I withdraw.
Fuuuck.
“Do that again and I’ll be the one coming,” I growl out.
A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth and she doesn’t move her hand.
Two can play at that game. I dip my head and take a nipple into my mouth. I suck and then graze it with my teeth.
She pulls in a breath, arching her back, pressing our bodies closer, tighter.
She thought she was done for the night.
She was wrong.
I push faster, my vision blurry, my body soaked in the feel of her. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to heaven.
“Bennett.”
I feel her begin to tighten around me, and I know I’m not going to survive it. It’s too much. She’s too much. Too good. Too…
My orgasm barrels up my spine like it’s chasing hers. And I explode into her.