Bennet
When I finally slide into Blaire for the first time, the sound that tears out of me is something I've never heard from myself before. Every nerve ending I have lights up at once.
"Fuck." I drop my forehead to her shoulder. "Blaire."
"You're too big." Her nails dig into my back. "Fucking hell, you're splitting me open."
I start to panic, pulling her up immediately, but her thighs lock around me.
"No. No." she whimpers. "It's good. So fucking good. Don't you dare."
I hold still, every muscle shaking, and take her word for it, even though the way she's trembling on top of me has my heart hammering.
She pulls back and slams her hips forward again.
"God! Oh fuck!" She screams and I am hanging on by the thinnest possible thread, two pumps in, because she fits around me like she was made for exactly this and I can feel her fluttering and squeezing and I'm not going to survive this.
"Don't worry." She moans, pulling me closer. "It feels amazing. I can take it." Her eyes find mine. "I can take you."
Blaire's nails scratch down the back of my neck, and a shiver runs the full length of my spine.
I nearly lose it completely.
A wicked smile spreads across her face. She knows exactly what she just did. Before I can recover, she does it again, slower this time, watching my face fall apart.
"Fuck." My head falls back and I stop moving altogether because I have no choice. "I'm not going to last if you keep doing that, baby."
"So, stop me," she says, and does it again with another slam of her hips.
"Blaire."
"Michael."
I breathe through my nose and think about baseball stats. Grandpa's balls the time I walked in on him in the shower at fourteen. Anything. Everything. The full catalogue of unsexy thoughts I have available to me.
She runs her fingers through my hair, gentle now, giving me mercy I didn't ask for.
"You feel…fuck Blaire," I manage.
"So do you," she says softly.
She starts to move again. Slow at first, finding the rhythm, and then I loop my arms under her knees, spread her legs wider and start to rut up into her. This new angle is going to be the end of me, and I can only hope she's close.
"Ben." Her voice has gone tight. "I'm gonna come. Right there. God, right — thereeeee—"
Her whole body locks up. That vice around me gets impossibly tighter.
"Fuck. Fuck, Blaire—" My vision goes white.
My eyes roll back. I come so hard my grip on her thighs is going to leave marks.
I cannot bring myself to care even a little.
We tremble through it together, both of us wrecked, until I fall backward and pull her with me.
She lands on my chest, and neither of us moves for a long moment.
"That was—" I whisper.
"That it was." She's still catching her breath. A beat of silence, and then: "I'm going to need to amend my contract, Bennet."
I smile at the ceiling. "Yeah? What's the amendment?"
"This." She lays her cheek my chest. "At least three times a week. Non-negotiable."
"I can accept these terms." I pull her further up my chest so I can see her face properly. "I'm being serious, though. I know this has an expiration date attached to it, and we can cross that bridge when we get there. But I meant what I said." I brush her hair back. "I want to be your sun."
She looks at me for a long moment with something in her eyes that is new and unguarded and entirely hers.
"You already are, Bennet," she says.
***
Blaire has been asleep for a couple of hours. She's also been snoring like a freight train, which is the most unexpectedly endearing thing I've ever witnessed.
I carried her to the bed after we fucked on the couch, and the floor, and the kitchen counter because she looked incredible making coffee in my kitchen and I couldn't help myself. I haven't been able to stop touching her. Stop watching her.
Blaire fucking Alexander loves me and I am officially, completely, irrevocably addicted to her.
Needing to taste her again like I need to breathe, I lean over and press my lips to her collarbone, running my tongue along the length of it the way I've been thinking about since the first time I noticed it across a library table ten years ago.
She lets out a soft sleep-moan, and it goes straight to my cock.
I move down slowly, positioning myself between her legs, her thighs warm and heavy across my shoulders.
I'll never get enough of her scent. How pretty she is.
Still glistening. I've watched porn — just because I was a virgin doesn't mean I didn't have urges — but I feel like it genuinely didn't do this justice. Nothing could.
I give her folds a soft kiss.
Then I run my tongue between them and immediately thrust my cock into the mattress like a teenager.
It's even better directly from the source.
Another soft moan escapes her, and whatever restraint I had left dissolves completely. I bury my tongue inside her, then lick slowly from bottom to top, finding her clit, and her hips begin to roll against my face in her sleep, like her body already knows what it wants before she does.
I take her clit into my mouth and suck.
Her whole body trembles as she wakes into it, limbs stretching, already cresting before she's fully conscious.
"God. Oh god." Her hands find my hair and fist tight, and I groan against her at the pull of it, and she gasps at the vibration, and we find our rhythm like we've been doing this for years.
Pleasuring her fills me with a pride I wasn't prepared for. Years of convincing myself I'd be too broken by the time I found the right woman, too damaged, too far gone — and here I am. I wasn't broken. I was just waiting. Waiting for her.
For my Blaire.
"Bennet, please." Her hips buck hard against my face.
I flip her onto her stomach, pulling her up onto her knees, and bury my face, running my tongue from her clit to her puckered ass.
She lets out a tortured groan; face pressed into the mattress. "Fuck, that feels amazing."
Something possesses me, and I lean back and smack her ass twice, then line myself up and bottom out in one deep thrust.
"Yes, oh fuck." She screams out, and it spurs me on completely.
Her moans turn guttural and needy as I spank her again and again, my thrusts growing more desperate with every hit.
"No one else will ever touch this body again. It's mine now. Is that understood?"
She groans without a verbal response.
"Out loud, Blaire." Thrust. Thrust. "Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours," she cries out. "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours."
"Fucking right." Thrust. "My Blaire." I wrap my fist in her hair and lose control, fucking into her with every shred of love and devotion I have for her.
The sounds her pussy makes as it swallows my cock has me about to combust. Her screams start to get shallow.
Her back curves up, and she gushes again.
"Good fucking girl. Soak the bed, baby."
She pulls me right under with her as my cock jerks and shudders, releasing inside of her. "Blaire fucking Sullivan. That's gonna be your name as soon as you'll let me."
I fall forward and twist, so she falls with me, both of us a panting, sweaty mess. "Fucking mine."
"How the hell are you so good at this already?" She whimpers.
"I've had ten years to fantasize about the things I'd do to you, Blaire." I press my lips to her temple. "I'm living every fucking dream this weekend."