Chapter 12.
Brian guided Benita down onto the wide bed, the dark sheets cool against their still-warm skin.
He followed her without hesitation, covering her body with his own for a long moment, kissing her deeply while his hands mapped the soft curves of her waist and hips.
The residual ache in his cock pressed against her thigh, but he made no move to seek his own relief.
Not yet. The hunger driving him now was different…
focused, deliberate, and entirely for her.
He broke the kiss and began working his way down.
His mouth traced a slow path along the line of her jaw, the side of her neck, the hollow of her throat.
Benita’s breath hitched when his lips closed over one nipple, sucking gently at first, then with more pressure as her back arched.
He gave the same attention to the other breast, tongue circling, teeth grazing just enough to make her fingers tighten in his hair.
By the time he moved lower… across the soft plane of her stomach, dipping his tongue into her navel…
she was already shifting restlessly beneath him.
Brian settled between her thighs, pushing them wider with his shoulders. The scent of her arousal mixed with the clean soap from the shower, warm and intimate. He looked up the length of her body once, meeting her dark eyes, then lowered his mouth.
The first long, slow lick from the bottom of her folds to her clit dragged a broken sound from her throat.
He did it again, deeper this time, flattening his tongue so he could taste every inch of her.
Benita’s hips lifted instinctively. He pinned them gently with one forearm and kept going…
hungry, thorough, unhurried only in the sense that he intended to take his time destroying her composure.
He licked into her, tongue pushing past her entrance in slow thrusts while his upper lip brushed her clit on every stroke.
When she started to tremble he focused higher, sealing his mouth over the swollen bud and sucking with steady, rhythmic pressure.
Two fingers slid through her wetness and pressed inside her, curling immediately toward the front wall.
Benita’s moan turned sharp. Her thighs tightened against his ears.
Brian worked her with focused intensity…
tongue and lips on her clit, fingers stroking that sensitive spot inside in firm, consistent motions.
He varied the rhythm only enough to keep her climbing: long, flat licks alternating with tight circles, the suction never fully releasing.
Her hands fisted in the sheets, then returned to his hair, holding on as her breathing grew ragged.
“Boss… oh god…”
He hummed against her, the vibration traveling straight through her clit, and felt her body seize.
The first orgasm hit hard. Benita’s back arched clear off the bed, a raw cry tearing from her throat as her inner walls clenched and fluttered around his fingers.
He kept licking through it, slower now but relentless, drawing every pulse out until her thighs shook and a fresh rush of wetness coated his tongue and chin.
He did not stop.
Even as the last tremors of the first climax faded, Brian stayed between her legs.
He withdrew his fingers only long enough to add a third, stretching her gently while his mouth returned to her oversensitive clit.
Benita whimpered, hips trying to twist away from the intensity, but he held her open with one strong hand on her inner thigh and continued.
His tongue traced every fold, dipped inside her alongside his fingers, then returned to the swollen bud to suck and flick in alternating patterns that made her squirm helplessly.
He used everything… lips, tongue, the light scrape of teeth, the steady thrust and curl of his fingers.
He licked the soft skin of her inner thighs, kissed the crease where leg met body, then returned to her center with even deeper hunger.
Benita’s sounds became continuous: soft cries, broken moans, his name mixed with curses and pleas that never quite formed into requests for him to stop.
Her body twisted and arched. Her heels dug into the mattress.
Every time she tried to close her legs he gently but firmly kept them spread, giving himself complete access.
The second build was slower and heavier.
He could feel it in the way her walls began to flutter again around his fingers, in the desperate little rolls of her hips she could not control.
Brian sealed his mouth over her clit once more and sucked in firm, pulsing rhythm while his fingers stroked that same perfect spot inside her without mercy.
Benita’s second orgasm crashed through her harder than the first. A raw, high sound left her throat as her entire body locked and then shook.
Her inner muscles clamped down in powerful waves, soaking his hand and mouth.
He stayed with her through every pulse, licking and stroking until the intensity finally forced a broken sob from her and her thighs trembled uncontrollably around his head.
Only then did Brian slow.
He eased his fingers free, pressed one last soft, open-mouthed kiss to her still-twitching clit, and rested his cheek against her inner thigh while her breathing gradually began to even out.
Brian moved up her body with deliberate care, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of her stomach, the underside of one breast, the hollow of her throat.
Every place his mouth touched still carried the faint salt of her earlier release and the clean warmth of the shower.
Benita’s hands slid into his hair, not pulling, only holding on as he climbed higher.
When he finally settled over her, chest to chest, he captured her mouth in a deep, slow kiss and let her taste herself on his tongue.
She moaned into it… soft, surprised, and unmistakably aroused. Her legs shifted around his hips, opening wider in invitation even as the kiss deepened. When they finally broke apart for air she kept her forehead against his, dark eyes half-lidded and shining.
“Boss… no one has ever…” she whispered, the words barely audible.
Brian brushed his nose against hers. “Maybe not,” he answered quietly. “But I will always.”
He kissed her again, slower this time, pouring the promise into the press of his lips.
Benita’s hand slid between their bodies.
Her fingers wrapped around the thick length of him, still hard and aching from everything that had come before, and guided the head to her entrance.
She was soaked… slick from his mouth and her own previous climaxes…
and the first slow push of his hips met almost no resistance.
Brian entered her in one long, careful thrust.
The heat of her closed around him like a fist, tight and wet and perfect.
He buried himself to the hilt and held still, forehead pressed to hers, giving her body time to adjust while the sensation of being fully inside her after the long buildup nearly undid his control.
Benita’s breath left her in a shaky exhale.
Her nails dug lightly into his shoulders.
He began to move.
The rhythm he set was slow… deep, rolling strokes that dragged every inch of him along her inner walls on the way out and filled her completely on the way back in.
There was no urgency in the pace, only deliberate, heavy pleasure.
Each thrust bottomed out against the deepest part of her, the head of his cock pressing firmly before he withdrew almost all the way and sank forward again.
The wet sound of their joining filled the quiet bedroom, soft and rhythmic beneath the low sounds Benita could not hold back.
He kept his weight on his forearms so he could watch her face.
Every time he pushed deep her eyes fluttered.
Every time he ground against her clit at the end of a stroke her lips parted on a quiet moan.
He varied the angle in small increments…
tilting his hips so the ridge of his cock dragged over the sensitive front wall, then shifting to hit deeper…
until he found the combination that made her thighs tighten around him and her breath stutter.
Benita’s hands roamed his back, his sides, the flexing muscles of his ass as he worked into her.
She lifted to meet every stroke, matching the slow pace he set, her body rolling beneath him in perfect counterpoint.
The friction was exquisite, wet and tight and endless.
Brian could feel the way her walls fluttered and gripped him on every withdrawal, the way she grew even slicker as the minutes stretched.
He lowered his head and kissed her again, swallowing the soft sounds she made.
Their tongues met in the same unhurried rhythm as their bodies.
When he broke the kiss it was only to trail his mouth along her jaw and down to the side of her neck, sucking lightly at the pulse that raced under her skin.
Benita turned her head to give him more access, a low, continuous moan vibrating in her throat.
The slow fucking continued without pause.
Brian never increased the speed. He simply kept driving into her with the same deep, measured power…
long strokes that filled her completely, the wet heat of her coating him from root to tip, the soft slap of skin on skin muted by how carefully he moved.
Sweat began to slick their bodies where they pressed together.
The air in the room grew warmer, scented with sex and the lingering trace of soap.