20. Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Gina
Benji kisses me long and deep. It’s a slow, sensual thing. A kiss that mirrors the way he dances. Something powerful rolls through me in response—greed. Mine .
He makes a pained noise, like it hurts to stop, before pulling away to slide off my lap onto the floor by my feet.
His fingers slip behind my knees, pulling me to the edge of the chair.
Then he’s pressing my legs apart so he can fit between them, and my hands are in his hair, pushing it back so I can kiss his forehead.
“Gina,” he whispers. I tighten my fingers, tugging his head back to kiss his lips. His hands move up my thighs, over my hips, to the hem of my shirt. He lifts it an inch. “Yes?” he murmurs against my kiss.
“Yes.”
Cool air skates across my lower back as he gathers my shirt, lifting it slowly until I have to raise my hands.
I’m not wearing a bra, and my already hard nipples tighten more as the soft cotton passes over them.
Benji drops my shirt to the floor and pulls me to my feet, only to sink to his knees again.
His fingers slip into the waistband of my shorts. He presses his lips to my stomach, looking up at me with hooded eyes. “Yes?”
This time, I nod. Benji’s breath is warm on my skin, but goosebumps prickle me anyway. He slides his hands into my shorts, skimming them over my thighs, dragging my shorts to the floor, where I step out of them.
“Goddamn,” he breathes against me. His hands slowly move back up my calves. By the time they reach my hips, I’m trembling. “Sit down and open these gorgeous legs for your husband.”
I drop like a rock. Benji ducks his head against my thigh, and I can tell by the shake of his shoulders that he’s laughing.
I am honestly lucky the chair was there.
I’m strung too tight to manage more than a weak chuckle, but it breaks some tension, and I run a hand through his soft, thick hair.
“Not my fault you make my knees weak when you talk like that,” I chide. Murmur, really.
Benji looks up at me, then pushes my legs wider to crawl closer until his stomach presses between my legs. He wraps one arm around my waist. His other hand cups my breast, his thumb light over my nipple. It tightens painfully, and a shiver runs up my spine. “Do you like to be touched here?”
I nod.
“Licked?”
I nod again, and he brings his mouth to the tip of my breast, his tongue flicking out over my nipple.
“Sucked?” he asks between licks.
He’s staring at my breasts, so I give him a quiet yes . His lips close over the stiff peak, and the pull is exquisite. I arch into it, a little moan escaping when he does it again, harder. My hips rock against his abs.
Benji’s hand slides down my stomach, my muscles tightening in response. His thumb presses against my damp underwear, moving in light strokes over my clit.
“What about here?” he asks, looking up at me with those blue-green eyes. “I’ve been dreaming about how you’d taste. How you’d feel on my tongue. Would you like that?”
I swallow and nod vigorously. Benji’s lips quirk into a smile as he tugs me forward, and I fall back against the chair.
He lowers his head and breathes me in, nuzzling against my underwear, the touch so light and teasing it wakes every last nerve in my body. His mouth closes over me, the sensation muffled by the cotton between us, but oh my god, does it make me want more.
The cotton is soaked through by the time he hooks it with a finger and pulls it aside. The feel of his tongue, warm and wet and silky as he licks me, is so startlingly good I gasp. Benji moans, the vibration melting me.
I curl my fingers around the sides of the chair’s seat and fight the urge to let my head fall back. Benji’s eyes are nearly shut, his dark lashes so long and inky from my viewpoint, but he looks up at me every so often, and I don’t want to miss a second of the look in his eyes.
It doesn’t take long for the muscles in my legs to tense. Benji holds me to the chair, but I’m about to levitate off the damn thing anyway.
I need to touch him, something to ground me, but the best I can do is release one hand from the chair to brush his hair from his forehead. His eyes flick up to mine and hold, but his tongue doesn’t stop or slow. This connection between us takes me the rest of the way up.
I gasp in a breath and lose the battle to keep my eyes open as my every nerve pulls tight. One more flick of that beautiful tongue, and I come like a thunderbolt—with a sharp cry of pent-up release, bliss rolling, rumbling on, gradually fading to an echo, a pulse.
It’s still raining outside, but not as heavily as before. The air has that rain-kissed scent, fresh and cool. I shiver at the feel of it on my bare skin.
When I open my eyes, Benji’s looking up at me, one arm resting across my thighs, a soft smile on his face.
I feel too good to be self-conscious, but I laugh a little as he takes my hand and kisses it. I should say something, but my head is empty.
Benji stands, bending to scoop me up. I wrap my arms around his neck as he turns toward the bedroom, stopping just outside.
“I’m supposed to carry you through a doorway or something,” he says. “Will this work?” His eyes are asking a different question. Yes?
“Yes,” I say, turning his head to kiss him.
He doesn’t break the kiss but slowly shuffles us through the doorway, careful not to knock my feet into the door jamb.
But when we reach my bed, his lips leave mine.
He gently sets me on the mattress and removes my underwear, dropping them to the floor.
Then he just looks at me, that silly little smile still on his face.
“Why are you still dressed?” I whisper loudly.
Benji laughs and steps toward the hall. “Be right back. I’m going to lock the door—I don’t want anyone to disturb us.”
No one will be swinging by in this weather, but it’s probably a good idea, just in case.
Benji returns and pulls his shirt over his head. I prop myself on my elbows to watch, but there’s no teasing, no slow reveal. His joggers follow, and suddenly, he’s standing there, naked.
I didn’t forget how big he is, but maybe I didn’t think this through.
“It’s okay,” he says with a self-deprecating smile, his hand wrapping over his length like he wants to hide how big he is. “You’ll tell me if it hurts, and we’ll change positions. Okay?”
I nod and point to the box of condoms Milo must have left on the dresser. Benji grabs a few, tossing them onto the bed.
“Come here,” I find myself murmuring. He climbs on top of me and lowers himself, kissing my lips, my jaw, and just below my ear.
I wrap one hand around the back of his neck, but my other one ventures south, over his abs, and I’m immediately distracted by the way the muscles tense at my touch.
“You’re beautiful,” I find myself saying as he nibbles my ear, “but do you want to know what my favorite part of you is?”
“I know what it’s about to be,” he murmurs into my neck.
I bring my hand back up and place it over his chest. “Right here.” I tap my fingers to the rhythm of his heart.
He lifts his head and looks at me like I’m the rising sun after a stormy night, and when he dips his head to kiss me, the kiss is nothing short of fire.
All too soon, he shifts, slipping down my body and lifting my legs over his shoulders.
“I’m ready for you,” I say, but it’s a weak protest because the first touch of his tongue completely rearranges my priorities.
“Maybe,” he admits with a wicked grin. “But I can make you wetter.”
And he does. When I get close, he slips two fingers into me.
The stretch is unbelievable. I doubt I’ll be able to take his cock if I’m this tight around two fingers.
But he keeps lavishing my clit with his tongue, and soon he adds another finger.
It only feels better. Pleasure builds and breaks. I come with a trembling cry this time.
When he finally slips his fingers out, I feel empty. I beckon for him to hurry, to fill me back up, but Benji takes his time rolling the condom down his length, and when he’s back on top of me, he takes a long moment just to kiss me. Another to brush my hair back from my face and look into my eyes.
“You can take me,” Benji says softly, brushing a stubborn curl away for a second time when it springs back.
I nod. I don’t share his confidence, but I want him in me.
“I’ll never give you more than you can take,” he says in that same soft tone, and I don’t think he’s talking about his cock anymore. “But whatever you want, it’s yours.”
“I want all of you,” I whisper. “I can take it all.”
“I don’t want you ever to feel like you have to,” he says.
My heart flutters. He isn’t just talking about sex and I love him for that. “I know. I want it. Every inch because you’re mine.”
He drops his head back to my neck. “God, Gina, I love you so much. I—” His voice breaks off when he pushes into me, slowly, maybe an inch. He stops immediately. “Gina?”
He loves me. He hasn’t kept his feelings a secret, but to hear him say it, even if it freaked him out a little, makes me feel like flying. I wrap my legs around his hips, drawing him deeper. I’m so wet, but it still takes a few heartbeats for my body to accommodate him.
“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs into my neck.
“So do you. I can take more. I can take my husband’s…” My face flares because I’ve never talked like this before, but Benji stills, waiting, so I say it, even though it comes out a whisper. “My husband’s cock.”
The muscles in his back shift, and he’s tense with restraint. “All for you,” he says in a tight voice. He pulls out a little, then thrusts so slowly, working his way deeper. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”
He takes a deep breath and, in one smooth thrust, bottoms out. It is absolute bliss how full I feel, and the triumph must show on my face because he whispers, “I knew my wife could take this cock.”
He still gives me a few moments to adjust before he begins fucking me in long, languorous strokes.
There’s a grace in his body, a rhythm in the movements that connects the beat of his heart with mine.
We lose ourselves in each other, the outside world falling away until we exist only within stuttered breaths, the give and take between us, the roll of a bead of sweat over skin warmed with exertion.
My body, my heart—everything is full of him.
I come clinging to him, unable to say his name, barely able to breathe from the force of the pleasure streaming through me.
Benji gasps and holds me tight, finally losing his rhythm as he lets go and follows me over.
Euphoria fades slowly but doesn’t disappear. Benji lies with his head on my chest, over my heart. I toy with his hair. The rain is still coming down outside, and here, under the solid warmth of his body, I’m sleepy but unable to fall asleep.
“I want to marry you again,” Benji says eventually. “After Happy Lake is yours.”
“I’m tempted to say yes. I’m sorry we have to wait.”
He rises to look at me. “I’ve known how important Happy Lake is to you since the night we met. I want you to have it. But if you didn’t, for whatever reason, you’d be okay, Gina.”
I’m not so sure, but I appreciate his faith in me.
“It’s not just me. Happy Lake is the only safe home Milo has ever had.
” Maybe it’s the way I’m wholly satisfied or the soft music of the rain falling outside, but the words spill out, even though they aren’t mine to share.
“Everyone in his life has let him down in some way or another. I’ve been his rock. I can’t do that to him.”
“Has he been your rock, too?”
“No.” I stare at the ceiling, surprised I admitted it out loud when I’ve barely admitted it to myself.
“He just left one day. Didn’t tell me where he was going or when he’d be back.
” It’s harder to admit that he’s not here for me now, not the way I need him, and not without me forcing his hand. But I don’t want to talk about Milo.
Benji must see that in my face. He rests his head against my chest again. “When you walk down the aisle to me, you’ll have daisies in your hair. Rudbeckia in your bouquet.”
“Have you been thinking about this a lot?” I ask lightly.
“Mostly the wedding night,” he admits, lifting his head to grin at me.
Then he gets serious, moving up my body so he can kiss me.
“But yeah. I’ve been thinking about how we might do it again.
We were strangers when we said I do , and it would be nice to do it again, knowing each other.
” He kisses me, and my desire sparks back to life.
I can feel him hardening against my thigh.
I cup his face and ease him back. “Getting to know you is a gift. Thank you.”
He opens his mouth but appears to be at a loss for words. So he kisses me instead and rolls us so I’m straddling him. “I need you to sit on my face.”
I laugh.
“I’m serious, Gina. Get up here and grab the headboard.”