Chapter 25
There’s a pit in my stomach, growing darker through the weekend. It doesn’t help when Ben treats me so reverently. The only thing that makes it go away is sex. And there’s plenty of that sprinkled throughout the day and night. But the relief lasts as long as the drop from my orgasm and soon I’m craving that dopamine again.
And now, when it’s our last night in the Hamptons after a quick four-day weekend, I’m not sure what to do with myself. It’s all I can do to roll over on the blanket stretched out over the sand, staring up at the fluffy clouds dotting sky. It’s been an usually warm day for November, a good time as any to utilize the private beach.
I don’t exactly want to go back home for some reason, but I can’t put my finger on the exact reason why. Other than the cleaner air, the greenery, the ocean front view, the small town vibes, the bathtub in this place—okay, maybe my list is actually pretty extensive.
My fingers card through the soft, loose, white sand, growing cold with the dipping sun in the sky.
“Are you sad we’re going back to the city tomorrow?”
I glance up, lifting my chin from where it’s tucked in the crook of my elbow. Ben is reclined on the blanket next to me, a ball cap pulled low over his face. He tips it back into place, rising up to his elbows.
“No.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, reaching out to tug the shoulder of my coverup into place over the goosebumps rising on my skin.
“Are you sure about that? You’re pouting at the sand, Emmeline.”
I give him a little huff, wiggling in place on the blanket. “I like it here.”
“Better than Manhattan?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “I never wanted to live there, but even outside the city, I wasn’t able to afford anything on my own. Cora has been my backbone for a long time.”
“Really?” He sounds surprised. “I would have taken you for a city girl any day.”
“The luxury of having everything at the tips of your fingers is nice, don’t get me wrong. But I like the slower pace, the serene quietness out here.”
“Hmmm.” Ben sits up fully, stretching his arms and shoulders out, and I watch the stretch of his long-sleeved shirt with disdain. “That makes sense. I’m not sure I could live out here full time, though.”
“Well, you’d be away from your business,” I say, following his motion to sit up.
“I could work from home if I really wanted. These days, I only have meetings with clients about bigger projects. It’s mostly managing everyone else and what they’re doing right or wrong.”
He reaches out for me, and I turn over onto my knees to shuffle forward to his side.
“Well, back to the grind after tomorrow.”
“We still have the rest of tonight,” Ben says, his thumb brushing my bottom lip. “Do you want something from the beach?”
My brows pinch together and I look over his shoulder, over mine. “What do you mean? I bought those pajamas and clothes from downtown.”
“No, like—” He gestures to the sand, reaching out over the edge of the blanket and picking up the first remnant of a seashell within reach. “A seashell. Or a jar of sand. A rock.”
“A rock?”
“Yeah. We could try to find the rock closest to the other’s eye color.”
I perk up, rising up off my heels and placing my hands over his cheeks to pull his face down to mine.
“What are you doing?” His lip twitches, gaze darting down to my lips before popping back up to my eyes.
“Looking at your eyes.” Even though I can picture the warmth of the dark brown anytime I close my eyes. “You have a little bit of amber, right around the inner circle.”
Ben makes a pleased sound that crawls up my arms to tingle on my scalp. I want nothing more than to stay in his arms forever when his palms curve over my hips, warmth seeping through the layers of my swim shorts and coverup.
“And yours are the loveliest shade of jade.”
My head tilts, leaning in until I can tuck myself under the lip of his cap to press a kiss to his lips. “Stop buttering me up.”
“You’ve convinced me butter is delicious. I’d love nothing more than to lick it off every inch of your skin.”
“My eyes could not be rolling harder right now.”
He chuckles, leaning in for one more kiss that heats my skin more than the sun has all afternoon. “All right, I’ll stop.”
Leaning away, I rise to my feet and hold my hand out for him.
“Closest rock wins an orgasm,” I offer as he takes my hand and I help him to his feet.
“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing, huh?”
“Yep. And I don’t plan on losing.” Which is a little unfair, even if true. The odds of him finding a rock the color of my eyes out here on the beach is slim. He knows that as well, but I don’t think that’s any hardship for him.
“Well, get looking. Five minutes, tops.”
I turn on my heel, stepping carefully off the blanket and head up to where the sand meets the grass. Scanning the drop-off, I look through the rocks and shells accumulated at the line of where the high tide usually comes in. I turn a shell over with my toe, looking through the grays and beiges for any hint of brown.
There’s exactly one rock, which must have tumbled down from the grass above, that’s darker than all the rest. I bend down, digging it from the sand and rubbing it clean with my thumb. It’s the color of a coffee bean, with a swirl of orangey-red through one half.
It’s perfect.
My body seizes up, and I stand with stiff muscles. But it’s true.
I press the rock into my palm, curling my fingers around it. Part of me wants to throw it back, pick another that doesn’t remind me so much of him. Because it’s so ridiculous for me to get so emotional over a rock.
“Time’s up, did you find one?” Ben calls, his voice carrying in the sway of the wind.
My hair whips around my face in the breeze, and I turn back to the ocean to catch the glittering of the water behind him in the distance. The sand is cold beneath my feet as I walk back to meet him.
“I found one, did you?” I ask, because when he looks at me like I’m the only thing he sees amongst everything beautiful in the world, the hurt is worth it.
Stepping carefully onto the blanket, I rub my feet along the edge to brush the sand off. We both sit and I tuck my knees into his side, leaning over his thighs and brushing the edge of my pinky along the hem of his shorts. There is entirely too much of his thighs on display, and it’s lowering my inhibitions just like alcohol.
“So I couldn’t find a rock…” He holds up a piece of sea glass, smooth and irregularly shaped. “But this is just about the next best thing.”
I lean in, putting my cheek next to it and blink up at him through my lashes. “A match?”
“Yes, just about—it’s very close.”
“Coffee.” I straighten up, my shoulder dipping as the wide collar of my coverup slips down my bicep.
Ben gives me a quizzical look, tossing the piece of glass to the blanket.
“My rock. Your eyes. Like coffee with just a splash of cream. A swirl of caramel.”
He reaches for my balled up hand, and my fingers uncurl at his touch to reveal my rock.
“I think I win,” I say quietly.
“By default. But it’s also a better match.” My rock lands next to the piece of sea glass on the blanket. He slides his hand over my jaw and cheek, fingers slipping into the strands of my hair. “Now let’s give you that orgasm you deserve, little bird.”
He kisses me, and it’s sunshine and salty air and Ben.
I wind my arms around his neck, leaning over his thighs to get closer. Except it’s not enough. And then I’m clinging to his shoulders, legs like a baby gazelle as I climb into his lap to straddle him, nearly falling into his chest.
I’m giggling into his neck where I’ve landed before picking myself up as his hands circle my waist. I shuffle forward until I’m as physically close to him as I can manage without crawling into his skin like it’s my new home.
“These shorts are fucking criminal,” I breathe, nose trailing up over the rough hair at his neck and jaw. My lips find his ear with my nails raking down his sides to grab a hold of his thighs that tense beneath my touch.
“Like yours are any better.”
The way his breath hitches when I rock my hips against him, the raspy tone of his reply—it makes me feral for him.
“Then take them off of me.”
Ben doesn’t have to be told twice to do something, unlike myself.
He slides his hands straight into the waistband of my swim shorts, dragging them down my hips as far as he can with me sitting on him.
“Stand up for me.”
A whine of protest leaves my throat, and I’ve never felt more petulant than in this moment.
“Stand. Up,” Ben repeats, his lips and teeth nipping along my jaw. “I want these shorts all the way off so you can sit on my face.”
Heat blooms along my chilled skin, and I rise with his prompting to my feet on either side of him. He drags the shorts down my thighs, my own fingers fumbling with the fabric as I lift to step out of them. Then Ben’s nose is pressing into my mound, breathing tickling my hair and sensitive skin. I’m suddenly aware of the fact that we’re just on the beach.
“Out here?” I say, even as my hips rock toward his mouth as his tongue flicks out to lick up my slit.
“The neighbors are only here during the summer, it’s fine. Now get on my face.” His palm smacks my thigh as he lays back on the blanket. His gaze is still sharp under lowered lashes, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.
“But…the sand.” I protest, albeit weakly as I tie up the rest of my cover-up into a knot to sit above my hips and drop back to my knees to shuffle up his body carefully.
“I’ll be fine. A little sand never hurt anyone.”
“Lizards.”
“Lizards what?” He grabs onto my thighs, pulling on my legs until I have them spread wide on either side of his head, his breath blowing over my center as I lower over his mouth.
“They can die if they ingest too much sand.”
“Good thing I’m not a lizard,” he rumbles against my pussy as his hands hook under my thighs to bring me as close as possible as I rest my weight down.
“But you could still—” His tongue rolls over my clit, a hot swipe that has me moaning and raising a knuckle up to bite down on it and stifle his name on my tongue.
I forget what I was trying to say.
“Give it all to me, baby. Don’t silence those pretty sounds you make.”
My hand drops only to thread through Ben’s hair and pull tight. He answers the questing of my hips with delicious pressure as he sucks on my clit, his mouth hot and wet, and it adds to the way my pussy is growing slicker with every rock of my hips over his chin. The way his beard brushes my skin burns me up inside.
“Fuck, oh fuck—harder,” I pant out, arms and thighs already shaky as I roll my hips over and over onto the seat of his tongue. He amps up the pressure with a delight of a hum that rumbles through every point we’re connected.
Ben makes another sound of appreciation for my enthusiasm, his fingers digging in where his hands are curved over the top of my thighs. He lifts me up slightly to dip his tongue into my entrance, lapping my arousal like it’s the best dessert he’s ever had.
I love his love for eating pussy.
“Do you taste how much I fucking want you?” I breathe, tugging his hair to direct his tongue exactly where I want it. His eyes flicker, half-lidded, until he’s looking up at me with so much want and need that I feel it echo down my limbs.
“My pussy,” he murmurs with a reverence that makes me shudder. “Fucking mine.”
And he laves my clit with attention, teeth, and tongue. The bite of pain makes me gasp as I fall forward, my hands spreading out in the sand beyond the edge of the blanket. It’s futile to grab at anything because it disappears between my fingers, but I can’t sit back up. Not when he’s licking and sucking my clit, causing shockwaves to roll down my spine like a hurricane.
“Ben,” I say again, my hips bearing down on his chin as his nose presses in along the flesh above my clit. I feel so close to orgasm so quickly, it’s insane.
“Ride my face, don’t hold back,” he says as he holds me up. I almost feel sorry for the way he pants for a breath. “Soak my fucking face with your cum.”
A moan falls from my lips unbidden as he yanks me back onto his mouth, working my clit over his tongue. I take over, grinding my pussy and rolling my hips over his face. My hands sift through the sand, only his arms hooked around my thighs that keep me steady at all.
“I’m so close.” The words are a rasp up my throat as he alternates the point and flat of his tongue over and around my clit until my pussy clenches tight over nothing. “Don’t fucking stop.”
He doubles down, fingers digging harder into my legs and his tongue swiping over me over and over and over until the sweat beads on my forehead and drool spills over my parted lips.
A hiccup leaves my throat as I crest with one slow roll of my hips, my thighs and arms shaking as my body seizes up, my head snapping back with my eyes rolling toward the sky.
It’s a technicolor of oranges, pinks, and reds with the flash of white as my vision blanks out and pleasure rushes through me.
“You taste so fucking good. Gimme more,” he commands, the rumble trailing through my limbs. I feel the rough slide of his tongue, his hot breath, the slick hair of his beard. It’s a sensory overload I’m not sure I can take in this moment.
Then his fingers are in the mix.
I jostle in his hold as he works his arm loose and between my legs, his fingers joining the slip and slide of his tongue, pressing into me. It feels so fucking good that I don’t realize I’m even holding my breath until my lungs start to burn.
My hips jerk, rocking against the motion of Ben’s tongue as he sucks on my clit while his fingers press deep inside my pussy. It all feels never-ending. His teeth graze the nerves, making sparks flicker and pop, and everything doubles back for a second wave.
It makes me so fucking dizzy, and I choke on my breath.
There’s this immense pressure in my center, my pussy fluttering and my hips rocking as my clit spasms, and I’m—I just—everything lets loose all at once. My bones feel like Jell-O even as my toes curl with spine tingling pleasure.
“Oh my—Ben,” I groan as my body flinches both away and toward him. “Red, red, red. I can’t.”
He stops immediately, hands loosening from my thighs and lifting me from his mouth. My eyes squeeze shut, and I can tell he helps me to shift away onto my back with the cool sand beneath my head and shoulders.
“Emmeline.”
Everything starts to settle, like the dust after a storm, but my blood is still pounding in my ears. I pick out all the things I can feel.
Cool sand. Faint breeze. Warmth of his body. Soft cotton. It’s all there, all the same as it was before.
“Emmeline.”
I know he’s calling my name, I can feel the way his hands drift up my arms, the tentative way he touches me since he does not have my permission. But I want to give it to him.
“Emmeline,” he says again, and I finally open my eyes to blink up at him.
His mouth is turned down in a frown, but my eyes are drawn to his beard and neck; even his shirt is wet from my orgasm, and I’m so flabbergasted.
“Oh my God, did I fucking drown you?”
Despite the concern showing in gaze, he chuckles and slides his hand over his beard and chin, his palm is wet when he pulls it away.
“No, clearly you didn’t drown me.”
“Seems like I tried to—”
“No, it seems like you squirted for me.”
My face burns, and I turn away.
His wet fingers grasp my chin and pull me back until I’m looking at him.
“Was it too much?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “One orgasm rolled into another, but clearly it was different—which was fine, great actually, but then it was like I was so sensitive I was going to crawl out of my skin.”
He brushes a wisp of my bangs out my eyes, his palm landing in the sand by my head. I reach out to grasp the collar of his shirt and pull him in until he’s pressing his weight overtop of me.
“Are you okay with me touching you?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, “I always want you to touch me. It was just a lot in the moment.”
“Baby, I made you come so hard you had to use your safe word.”
“Don’t sound so happy about that,” I grumble, but it turns into a sigh as he presses kisses over my brow and top of my cheeks, leaving tingles lingering on my skin.
“I’m fucking thrilled,” he says, and it’s evident in the way a grin takes over his face. But his eyes flicker down my body in a slow assessing sweep. “But let’s take care of you now.”
“Take care of me?”
“We’ll start with a bath.” He begins to stand, pulling me up on shaking legs before sweeping me into the cradle of his arms. “And I’ll wash your hair. Then I’ll put you to bed and fix you a snack.”
That sounds…so nice.
“Ice cream?” I ask, looping my hands around his neck as he walks us back up toward the house.
“Whatever you want, I’ll give to you.”