32. Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Frankie
H eat and pressure grew and blazed within Frankie. Her skin had never been so sensitive. She needed him to touch harder, drag his fingertips to all the places that begged to be stroked. There wasn’t even a hint of that nagging voice saying it was a bad idea, because her desire roared above it all.
She’d been so good, swearing off men and focusing on her studies for so long, that she deserved some release. And not just the kind that came from a buzzing toy. She wanted to be touched and tasted, and she wanted her former professor to use his tongue to soothe instead of lashing like he usually did.
She’d earned it, and he seemed to agree.
And so when he asked her where she ached, she gasped, “Everywhere.”
The rumble that came from his chest was either a chuckle or a growl, maybe an amalgamation of the two. Either way, it buzzed down Frankie’s back and to the tips of her toes.
Benjamin gathered her hair and draped it over one shoulder, grazing his knuckles along her skin with the sweep. He took full advantage of the bare shoulder after sliding the thin strap of her tank top out of the way. Hard teeth dragged toward her neck, her skin erupting in a wash of goosebumps. His slow, patient hands were everywhere, but he still managed to avoid the regions that begged for contact. Frankie squirmed beneath his teasing, and when he inched painfully close to one nipple, she arched in encouragement.
He retreated with a low chuckle. “No, no, Miss Miller. You have to tell me what you want. I’m not a man who enjoys guessing games.”
Frankie’s chest rose and fell in frustrated inhales and exhales, skin following his avoidant grazes like he was a magnet and she was made of molten metal. She wanted all of it: stroke, pinch, bury, sink, pull, glide. How could she possibly voice the myriad sensations she craved from him?
Benjamin slid a firm hand up between her breasts, settled it against her throat, and used the pad of his fingers to turn her face up to his. His lips lowered, hovering a nanometer from hers, zapping her with electricity. His hot breath puffed onto her lips as he spoke.
“I didn’t take you for being so shy.”
“I’m not,” she panted as he held her there, using his other hand to play with the hipbone hiding just below the waistband of her leggings. “Normally, I’m—”
“Normally, you’re what, Francesca?”
She felt the spread of heat as it flushed up her neck beneath his touch. Fuck, was this real life? Was she really in a secluded cabin, sitting between this man’s legs, struggling to verbalize how she wanted him to satisfy her? And if so, what was with her sudden lack of boldness?
“Calling the shots. Doing the seducing.”
“Oh, but you are,” he groaned, pulling firmly at her hips so her ass pressed hard against his arousal. “You have been seducing me since you walked into my classroom, late and breathless. Do you know how often my mind drifted to you when I should have been lecturing? You couldn’t know how many times I imagined, no, fantasized about dismissing class, locking the doors, and bending you over my podium. You said I tortured you in class. Well, sweetheart, you returned the favor every fucking day.”
The sensation of him cursing against her lips awakened Frankie from whatever meek daze she’d been hiding in. Suddenly, she needed him everywhere and felt zero shame about saying so.
“Touch me. Everywhere. Caress my breasts, pinch and tease my nipples, and slide lower and see how wet I am for you.”
Benjamin grinned as he slammed a kiss onto her lips. He groaned in approval as she opened wide to the frenzied sweep of his tongue and matched him stroke for stroke. Doing as she’d asked, he slid both hands up her ribs and beneath her shirt, testing the weight of her sensitive breasts. He rotated between teasing each hardened peak and caressing the sensitive skin around the perimeter. Decadent sensation rolled through Frankie’s limbs, and she arched harder, hungry for more of his touch.
He lowered a hand, trailing languid strokes across her soft abdomen, and stopped just after sliding a finger below the waistband of her pants. He raised his head, looking down at her.
“Are . . . are you not wearing panties?” he asked, the midnight blue depths of his eyes both icy and molten. His heaving chest pressed firmly against her back.
Frankie bit her lower lip and shook her head.
“ Fuuuuuck .”
He hardened even more, nestling between her cheeks as she rolled against him. She needed his fingers to dip lower. Needed him to tend to the ache she’d been feeling for months.
“Touch me, Benjamin.”
He needed no more coaxing after that. He reached farther, simultaneously sliding down and spreading her apart in search of that tiny bundle of nerves. Frankie jerked at the teasing flicks he administered, struggling to keep her ass on the floor as he circled, flicked, and retreated. Exquisite pressure built in her. She needed . . . needed . . .
But he knew. And he released her from her torment by sliding a long, searching finger into her, only to curl it and connect with just the right spot. A moan propelled from her, and she quivered and rolled her hips. More, faster, harder, but she couldn’t get actual words to form on her tongue. His translation of her mumbles and gasps led to firmer strokes, and all she could do was grip his thighs and prepare to ride the wave as it came barreling toward her.
Until he stopped and pulled his hand from her leggings.
Her outraged whine had him chuckling as he soothed in her ear, “Not yet, sweetheart.”
He kissed her temple and scooped her into his arms while she squirmed and tried to hold back the growls of her frustration. He’d taken her to the edge and let her dangle, writhing just out of reach of ecstasy. He set her on her feet, steadying her as she wobbled, then strode to her backpack a few feet away. She hummed in realization as he procured the red first aid bag and pulled out a condom.
“I’m glad I noticed these when I helped you bandage your head,” he spoke into her hair then swept the locks back to inspect her little cut. Fortunately, it had been all bark and very little bite.
He dropped the packet on the table beside them and kneeled in front of Frankie. Slowly—inhumanly slowly—Benjamin slid down her leggings, kissing every inch of skin as it was exposed. With the garment discarded, he trailed his fingers up the backs of her ankles and calves, stopping at one knee to lift and settle it over his broad shoulder. The sight of that blue-eyed, raven-haired Adonis laving his tongue up the inside of her thigh and delving into her center was almost more than Frankie could manage. He was beautiful and sexy and so fucking good at what he was doing. She could barely stay on her feet, and so he cupped her ass, holding her in place as he explored and worshiped every inch of her .
The wave surged again, steadily gliding toward her as it loomed off the horizon. She could feel it, practically taste it as it drew nearer and nearer.
Until he stopped. Again . . . he fucking stopped.
Frankie’s heart was going to explode. She pulled at his hair, dug her fingers into the bunched muscles at his shoulder, whimpered, and begged. But all he did was hold her hips mere inches away as he grinned up at her. “Almost.”
Benjamin rose, standing close, crowding her with his size. He slid his palms up her side and tugged her shirt up over her head. As it landed on the floor, he gave her a gentle shove and she had no choice but to plop down onto the chair behind her. Again, he knelt down, meeting his lips to hers. Frankie could taste herself on his tongue, and the recognition was like a shot of morphine-laced adrenaline into her bloodstream. Bliss and fire licked at her skin, a blazing, near-crawling sensation that needed to be satisfied. She’d die if he didn’t let her finish this next time; she’d never been so certain of anything in her entire life.
Frankie reached down and felt the swell of him straining hard against his boxer briefs. He groaned at her touch, thrusting instinctively as she slid her fingers below the waistband and gripped. Benjamin snatched the condom off the table, ripped the packaging open, and slid the sheath into place.
His strong hands pulled hard behind her knees, sliding her so her ass hung off the edge of the seat, the perfect hip level for him to gain access. He knelt there, poised and ready as he teased her with his blunt tip.
“Are you ready for me? Because this time, I won’t stop.”
“Yes,” she whimpered, certain her desperation was loud and on display.
And then he said it. Those two tiny words, when combined, created a question—a correction —that plagued her fantasies night after night for countless weeks.
“Yes what?” he rumbled, brow cocked, pressing lightly against her entrance but sinking no farther.
Frankie grinned, knees shaking, all too happy to play along. “Yes, Professor Clark.”
His sensual chuckle raked over her in heady sweeps. Then he thrust into her in one firm, solid movement. Her hips bucked and back arched as he pulled out and pushed deeply into her over and over again. She moaned and mewled at the pleasure of him stroking her with his solid strength while gripping her hips for leverage.
“Fuck,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “I couldn’t have imagined . . . fuck. You’re so fucking tight. Goddammit, Francesca. You’re ruining me.”
The filth that curled from his mouth ratcheted up her arousal, and she recalled taunting him about his clean vocabulary. Teased him as she asked if he had ever cursed.
Of course I do. But there are only two very specific times, and you haven’t been privy to either.
Oh, she had now.
She’d heard him through the haze after colliding with the boulder at the bottom of the valley. His panicked tone sliced the words into more than just their syllables. He’d been worried, scared for her. And now, as he tended to her needs, yet again, while also succumbing to his own desires. He swore all right, any time he let baser instincts possess him, bullying his sense of propriety to stand aside.
Benjamin dug his fingers firmly into the flesh of her hip as his thrusts became fevered, erratic. Frankie could feel the imposing pressure of release lingering back, waiting to be denied yet again. She met his eyes, and he grinned.
“I need to,” she whimpered .
He slid a hand up her waist, chest, and neck then settled a thumb on her lower lip. She nipped at it then pulled it into her mouth and sucked. He moaned low in his throat.
“You don’t want me to deny you again?”
She shook her head even as she felt the dip of low tide expose everything: desire, desperation, frustration. “Please. Please.”
“Give me one more,” he crooned, his smile dark and feral.
“ Please .”
Lowering his damp thumb, he stroked her clit, all the while thrusting faster, deeper. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Come for me.”
The wave slammed into her, a crushing tsunami filling the space where the undertow had receded. Burying her in a flood of pleasure as he pushed hard then dove with her beneath the ripples and currents. Benjamin pulled her in tight, pressing her breasts hard against his chest as they heaved and gasped together. Shuttering in engulfing bliss.