Chapter 25-Benji
We don’t even make it two steps inside the suite.
The door barely shuts behind us before I’ve got her.
Hands everywhere.
Mouth on hers.
Like if I don’t touch her right now, I might lose her again.
“Fuck, Ezzy, need you—” I rasp, my voice already wrecked as I back her up against the door.
She gasps into my mouth, fingers clutching at my shirt like she’s just as far gone as I am.
Good.
Because I need that.
Need to know I’m not the only one losing my damn mind here.
The lock clicks.
Too slow.
Everything is too fucking slow.
“Room service will be here in an hour, Wife,” I growl against her lips, the word wife hitting different now—heavier, realer, mine. “And I plan to have you at least once before they get here.”
Her breath hitches.
That sound?
Mine.
Everything about her?
Mine.
My hands slide down her sides, gripping, hauling her up against me like I need her closer than skin.
Like I need to prove something.
Not to her.
To myself.
That she’s here.
That she’s not walking away.
That this—our marriage, our vows, all of it—is real.
“Benji—” she breathes, and my name in her mouth is the last thing holding me together.
I cut her off with another kiss.
Harder.
Deeper.
No space.
No distance.
No room for doubt.
Because if I stop—I’ll remember how close I came to losing her for good.
And I can’t fucking handle that right now.
My hands move, impatient, rough, tugging at fabric, pushing things out of the way—I delve my fingers between her thick thighs and find her soft, wet center.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, Sweetheart. You’re soaked,” I growl, pushing two fingers inside her tight channel.
She laughs, then moans—soft, breathless, a little wild—and it shoots straight through me.
That sound.
I haven’t heard it like this in years.
Not free.
Not mine.
“Hold on to me,” I instruct, lifting her up with my other arm wrapped around her waist.
Her legs go around my hips.
And the whole time I keep finger-fucking her as I walk us to the bed.
“Still so bossy,” she teases, her fingers dragging over my shoulders, down my back, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
That’s all the permission I need.
Not that I would’ve stopped.
But hearing it?
Feeling it?
Yeah, it fuels something dark and possessive inside me.
“You like that about me, Ezzy,” I murmur against her neck, my mouth finding skin I know by memory alone. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”
She shivers.
I rub her clit with my thumb in time with my still-pumping fingers.
She arches into me.
And that’s answer enough.
I move us—fast, purposeful—arranging her on the bed, barely taking in the suite around us.
It’s massive.
Glass walls.
City lights pouring in.
Luxury everywhere.
Doesn’t matter.
Could be a damn barn for all I care.
Because she’s here.
That’s all that matters.
I lay her down, following immediately, caging her in, my body covering hers like I’m staking a claim I never should’ve lost.
My gaze drops to her face.
Flushed.
Eyes heavy.
Lips parted.
Mine.
“Look at me,” I tell her, quieter now—but no less intense.
She listens.
Always did.
That’s what kills me.
Because even after everything—she still looks at me like that.
Like I matter.
Like I’m something worth holding onto.
I kneel between her splayed legs and run my gaze lovingly over every single inch of her.
She’s so goddamn beautiful.
So soft. Her skin is tanned from the sun, and flushed from us—from what we’re doing..
Her already large breasts are swollen with need, the dusky nipples puckered and begging for attention.
And her pretty pussy is glistening in the dim light—soft and wet and begging to be filled.
I don’t know what I want to do first, but the way she’s staring at my cock leaves very little room for doubt.
“Say it,” I press, my thumb brushing her jaw.
Her breath trembles.
“What?”
“That you’re mine,” I say, low and dangerous. “Say it.”
Her eyes widen just a fraction.
Not fear.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Then—her lips part.
“I’m yours, Benji. Only yours,” she whispers.
And that? That fucking breaks me.
Because I don’t deserve her.
But I’m taking her, anyway.
My mouth crashes back to hers, the kiss turning frantic, messy, desperate as everything I’ve been holding back finally snaps loose.
Three years.
Three fucking years of wanting her.
Of missing her.
Of convincing myself she betrayed me.
Of hating her—while still loving her.
And now she’s here.
In my bed.
Wearing my ring.
Saying she’s mine.
Yeah, I’m not going slow.
Not tonight.
Not when I’ve already wasted too much time.
My hands move again, more urgent now, mapping every inch of her like I need to relearn her all over again—reaching for the condom I bought from the chapel, I tear the foil.
She reacts instantly, taking over. Her hands feel so good on my dick, rolling that latex over my sensitized skin.
“Fuck,” I grunt as she places my head at her entrance and wraps her legs around my hips, heels pressing against my ass.
“Please, Benji, I need you to fuck me,” she begs.
“Everything we are starts right now, Esme,” I growl, wrapping one hand around her throat while I hold myself up with the other.
Then I drive my hips forward, and I fill her in one, hard, desperate thrust.
And it feels like home.
Just like I remember.
Because her body knows mine.
And nothing’s changed.
Not really.
We were always meant to be together.
“Fuck,” I groan, pressing my forehead to hers for half a second, trying to hold onto something resembling control.
Doesn’t work.
Nothing about this is controlled.
Not anymore.
Not with her.
“Benji,” she breathes again, softer this time, and there’s something in it—something vulnerable—that cuts through the frenzy.
For a second—just one—I slow.
My hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing under her eye like I’m checking she’s still real.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say, rough and certain. “You hear me?”
Her lips part.
“I’m not,” she whispers. “I love you.”
Goddamnit.
After everything I did.
All my fuck ups.
She still loves me.
And that’s it.
That’s all I need.
The last thread of restraint snaps.
“I love you so fucking much,” I growl.
And I start to move.
Because tonight?
Tonight I’m taking back everything I lost.
Everything I gave up.
Everything that should’ve been mine all along.
Her.
My wife.
My future.
My second chance.
And I’m not wasting a single second of it.
I flex my hips. And her sweet pussy squeezes me.
I can’t speak.
I can hardly think.
Fuck, she is so hot and ready for me. I’m a big guy, but she’s so turned on there’s zero resistance to my thrusts.
Her body knows mine. It likes mine.
And I’m equally hot for her, so it’s a win-win.
I grab her hips, fingers digging into her skin as I piston my hips harder, shallower—grinding my cock into her sweet slit.
Fuck, she’s close.
“You close?”
She nods.
Good. Cause I don’t want to come without her.
“Eyes on me, Sweetheart. Good, now reach between us. Rub that clit,” I tell her, and she does. I feel her fingers slide between our slick, feel her move them higher so she can circle her tiny little button.
“That’s it,” I growl as her pussy starts to tighten around me. “Rub it good and hard, Ezzy. Rub it till your sweet cunt sucks the cum right out of my cock,” I growl.
And she does it.
She starts to come—and so do I.
Her moan is so loud it echoes in the room, and I’m so gone for her, I think I roar even louder as I empty my balls inside my wife’s sweet pussy.
I’m trembling with the aftermath of it all, and she’s quivering all around me, so it takes a few moments before either of us can move.
When I do regain control, I look into her eyes and cradle her face in my hands.
“Last time we did this, we might have made a baby,” I whisper. “And I think next time, we should maybe try to do that on purpose,” I tell her.
She gasps.
“Benji? You mean it?”
I think about why we waited the last time we did this.
How worried we were about my deployment.
About having a real house.
About money.
And I think about how none of that matters now.
“Yeah, I fucking mean it. I love you, Wife. I want to have a family with you.”
“I want that too,” she whispers.
I smile, and she does too.
Then she hugs me.
Tight.
And I hug her back.
Because this woman is my whole fucking life.
The alarm on my phone pings and I roll off her slowly.
“What’s that?”
“That’s ten minutes till food gets here. I’ll be quick then you can use the bathroom while the waiter brings it in,” I tell her.
She nods and I grin as I head to wash up and grab my boxers.
Life is really fucking good right now.