Chapter 26 Clover #2
Still holding me close, Bennett lowers me to the floor and drops to his knees between my thighs.
His hands slide up my ribs and cup my breasts.
My skirt is rucked up around my hips, showing a glimpse of my dark red mesh underwear.
His breath is ragged as he feasts on the sight of me while I linger on the taut swell in his jeans.
With a smirk, he catches me staring and thrusts forward against me. The contact is so teasingly brief that it’s painful and he has the nerve to laugh.
“Take that sweater off,” he tells me as he drags a finger down my sternum and pulls down on the V-neck.
I reach for the hem but then hesitate for a moment.
He’s settled in between my legs, otherwise I might squeeze them shut to hide what I know is a growing wet spot on the gusset of my underwear.
The fluorescent fixture above us feels like a spotlight and I wish we could crawl into a pocket of shadows.
“Do you want to stop?” Bennett asks in the most casual way. The same as he might sound when inquiring about my day or if I need a ride. It’s neutral. Pressure free. A flash of a fuzzy memory hits me as I recall the weight of Tate’s hands on me and how, now, in comparison, that felt all wrong.
This is nothing like that. I see my hesitation for what it is: embarrassment. Nerves.
“What if you don’t like what you see?” I ask.
He smirks again and then leans down, brushing a strand of hair out of my face, with his elbows braced on either side of my head.
“If the situation in my pants doesn’t speak for itself, every little glimpse of you I have seen over the last two months has set my brain on fire.
I am so turned on by you, Clo, and I guarantee you that nothing in my imagination will ever match the perfect reality that is the body beneath me right now. ”
“Why do you have to say things like that?” I ask. “Why do you have to sound so sincere?”
“Because seeing you again, Clover … it’s a second chance I never thought I’d have and I don’t plan on leaving anything unsaid anymore.”
“I don’t know how to give that back to you,” I tell him, and it’s easy to forget that we are splayed out on the top floor of the library in the middle of the forgotten stacks that no one bothers to visit, while the study rooms and computers below are full of students who are desperately cramming for midterms.
“I don’t say these things for them to be reciprocated.” His lips meet mine, and my mouth parts for him.
His kisses are slow, like melting wax, and my body relaxes underneath the weight of him.
“Now, will you let me see you?” he asks.
He helps me take off the sweater, his fingers lingering on my skin, and when I’m free of the cozy knit, he tosses it off to the side.
“Perfect,” he says, his hungry gaze roving over my sheer, dark red bralette embroidered with dark green vines.
My pebbled nipples are visible and he guides me back, one arm wrapped around me and supporting my spine as he kisses along my throat and then down my chest, leaving intermittent bites followed by his soothing tongue. “That’s my girl. Always matching.”
It’s a silly thing to splurge on, but matching my undergarments has always made me feel quietly confident and I love that he notices.
My hips involuntarily grind into him as whimpers escape every time his teeth scrape against my skin. “Not always,” I rasp. “But most of the time.”
Bennett rewards me with a few torturously slow thrusts, and when I mewl in response, I’m glad that the lights will serve as a warning should we find ourselves with any company, because I don’t think either of us can stand to be interrupted right now.
His lips close over my mesh-covered nipple and I have to bite down on my lips to stop myself from crying out. He places a single finger over my lips, his dimples ornamenting his flushed cheeks. “Can my pretty wife stay quiet for me?”
I nod furiously, and his finger drags down the bow of my lip before he’s pulling down the cups of my bra and suddenly there’s no barrier between his tongue and his teeth and the sensitive peaks of my breasts.
My hands are roughing through his hair, pulling and tugging, and I love watching him ruined and messy.
I immediately forget my promise to be quiet when he kisses down my sternum and nibbles at the underside of my breasts. He claps a hand over my mouth to muffle a loud gasp while he continues to tease me until he’s hovering at the waistband of my skirt and tugging at it with his teeth.
“What are you—” I can’t bring myself to ask. The thought of his mouth moving any lower is too much. “I’ve never done … that.”
The smile that spreads across his lips is downright devious. “I won’t lie, kitten. The thought of being the first person to put their mouth on you is making my cock leak.”
The vision of that makes my whole chest flush, and the silly pet name stirs something warm deep inside me. “Can we ease into that?”
“We can do whatever you want, Clo. But just so you know: Tasting you is in my top rotation of fantasies. But we can stop for now if you want.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m just not ready for that … I think.”
“Will you let me make you feel good?” he asks. “Before I walk you home. It doesn’t have to be oral. I might be a spoiled little rich boy, but I do have other talents.”
I press a hand to my cheek and my skin is as on fire as I feel. “Okay.”
He peppers my chest with kisses as he settles on his side next to me and I’m so swept up in the moment that I don’t even think to suck in my stomach as his fingers glide down it and under my skirt, toying with the elastic waistband of my underwear and the little green rosette there.
His hand slides farther down and he cups me, applying a cruel amount of pressure. Too much and not enough.
“Look at me, Clo,” he whispers.
Those blue eyes are on me, his chin nodding with encouragement as one finger slips through the seam of my warm center.
“You’re so wet.”
“Please,” I beg, and before the word is fully out of my mouth there’s another finger dragging upward, moving in little circles.
My spine arches up, pushing my chest forward and stealing his attention. “My god,” he says, his teeth tugging on the lobe of my ear before finding my nipples and doing delicious things with his tongue.
His fingers slide down for a minute, penetrating me slowly and holy shit.
I’m still jealous as hell, but the one benefit of Bennett sleeping his way through his first year at Wexley is that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
The guy I slept with last year over winter break used his hand on me like it was a jackhammer.
But the way I stretch around Bennett sends a tingling warmth down to the tips of my toes.
He pulls his hand free for a moment and I’m on the verge of babbling and begging him not to stop, but he shocks me to my bones as he sucks on both of his fingers, his eyes rolling back. “I could drown in you.”
This is so filthy and every part of me is on fire as I watch him. The things I want to do with him—want him to do to me—are the sort of salacious acts I’ve never even dreamed of acknowledging. Before now.
His hand is back again, pulling my panties to the side, because he can’t seem to be bothered with my waistband. This time he moves with relentless confidence and ruts against my hip.
His fingers find my clitoris again and the pressure is—
Oh. Oh.
“Just like that,” I tell him.
And he follows instruction flawlessly. Which is honestly shocking, considering what a brat he can be.
The warmth in my belly tightens into a scalding heat, and this feeling—it’s nothing I’ve shared with anyone else before. No one has ever seen me this undone and vulnerable.
I’m rocking into his hand now, chasing a spark as he grinds into my hip.
“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear through a thick moan. “My sweet girl. That’s it, Clo. Let go.”
His praise and permission are what send me over the edge. My muscles tighten and seize. I’m panting and his fingers continue to stroke me in lazy circles as I ride out the contented high. I’m hardly even aware of the way his hips convulse against me.
My eyes open, burning against the light, and I expect to see him wiping his hand on my skirt, but he brings his fingers back to his mouth. His throat vibrates with a satisfied hum like he’s just treated himself to a taste of honey.
“I—that was—” His lips brush mine and there’s a faint earthy taste to him.
“May I please walk you home now?” he asks with his face burrowed into my neck.
I nod and watch as he gently pulls my bra up, putting me back together again. “But what about you?”
“There’s nothing to take care of,” he says. “That was the single most erotic thing I’ve ever seen and I humped your leg like a fucking dog.” He laughs to himself and kisses my forehead. “God, I should be embarrassed. But I’m not. That’s what you do to me. That’s how badly I’ve wanted you.”
I roll over onto my side so that we’re facing each other and he gathers me in a tight embrace.
“Do you know what time it is?” I ask.
He takes his phone out of his back pocket. “Twenty past one.”
“I think I just got paid overtime for coming.”
“Coming on the clock is a very good use of library payroll if you ask me.”