Chapter 33 #2
"Yeah, and it's unhealthy," I protest but it sounds weak. Because that makes two of us—two maniacs for each other. "Ben... no..."
I try to trick him by pushing myself up on all four, but he tuts amusedly and runs his hand along my spine, then guides my head back down.
"You know what I want. Ass up, baby."
He presses just the head inside, teasing, pulling those helpless noises from me that he loves so much.
His hand fists in my hair, pressing me face-down into the pillow as he buries himself to the hilt. The stretch makes me choke on a gasp, sucking air like a fool. My hand slaps the mattress.
Ben gives me a moment to adjust to his size, like always, grunting blissfully.
It's not going to help... I feel him in my throat... I definitely won't be able to last without waking the whole damn street.
But, crazy as it is... I want more of him...
Ben sucks air through his teeth. "Damn, if you could see yourself. You're a perfection from this angle. This will probably be quick." He leans over to my ear, tapping a new spot inside me that has me tremble around him, and his voice drops. "But don't worry, baby. I'll make it count."
He straightens behind me, pulls on my hair firmly, tipping my head back, giving me just enough air.
His other hand drags my wrists behind me, holding me there.
He takes me from behind—slow at first, opening me for him, then harder and faster.
So hard that the wave builds in me and my knees give out, sliding wide on the silky sheets.
My body is shaking, pinned under his steel and wood as he keeps pounding me, the slap of wet skin on skin and my helpless moans turning the room into something obscene.
When he lets go of my wrists, I slip my hand between my thighs, working myself, chasing the edge while I hear his ragged breath behind me.
The fishnets rasp as Ben annihilates them under his hands, ripping them to shreds, before they take a flight to the window. I watch them land on the floor just as my breath is about to give out from all that built-up pressure.
The bed turns frantic again, groaning with each hungry stroke. Ben grunts in his chest, the sound of him getting close laced with irritation, and he leans over to hold the frame with his hand.
"They'll know," I manage on a broken moan.
“Let.” Thrust. “Them.“ Thrust. “Know.” Thrust.
A jolt ricochets up my spine, each snap sharper than the last, dragging me tighter around him, and I cry out, "More..."
Ben gives it to me instantly, the next thrust so hard I slap the mattress again. Lightning-fire shoots through my whole body. I nearly break my neck as I twist it so he can kiss me. He takes my mouth, kissing, biting, invading, and then—
CRACK.
The bed gives way beneath us, the whole frame collapsing. Ben falls forward as we hit the floor, the staggering drop driving him so deep I let out a keening wail. His hand shoots out, muffling the sound at the last second, but it's still loud enough to echo through the otherwise silent house.
My release slams over me like a tsunami and my body arches back hard as my nails carve down his thighs—his whole body pressed to mine, shaking through an endless spasm. Then Ben empties himself—pulse after thick pulse, spilling through clenched, broken groans.
Can you hear colors? I swear I hear red. It's roaring in my ears. The room goes liquid, spinning. My body melts.
That... was... insane.
When the wave dwindles, the whole room smells of sex and ruin.
"Emma, are you okay?" Ben rasps when his body relaxes, then clears his throat. "Did I hurt you?"
"Not sure," I say, voice thin. That's all I manage.
His tone quickly recalibrates to serious and he strokes my hair off my face to look at me properly. "Are you hurt?" he asks again, back to his softer self now.
"Yeah," I manage, still smashed into his pillow. "My dignity is. I'm not seeing your family again—I'm leaving."
"It's okay, baby," he says and presses a soft kiss on my shoulder. "They didn't hear you."
"I told you your bed wouldn't survive you," I mutter and shake my head as I scowl at him. "Neither will I. I need to train my body to say fucking no around you."
He laughs under his breath and pulls out carefully, but I swear I can still feel him there.
"Guess we should have taken it to the floor," he jokes, still breathy, and wipes sweat from his forehead and my back. "We got a little carried away."
"A little?" I flop to the side, delirious, and give him a sharp look. "You transcended my cervix. I think I heard your thoughts in my head, how far you were."
A short laugh escapes him again as he sits on the edge of the bed. "And? Did you hear it was all you in my head?"
I just pull a face, even though he better be saying more of those things now.
"I'm sorry, baby," he says. "I'll make it up to you. A massage. Brunch in bed. I'll carry you everywhere. A whole day."
"A day?!" I snap at that absurd offer because hell no. My eyes narrow. "You owe me a month. At least."
His brows draw together, but he's fighting a laugh. "A month? Now you’re just milking it."
"I can't milk anything. You broke my hips," I shoot back.
He rolls his eyes, but smiles and runs his hand over my hip. "Fine. You know I'd do anything for you anyway."
"And I'm filing a complaint anyway," I add with lips pursed.
He tuts and smacks my ass in mock-discipline, then smooths his hand over it like I'm suddenly delicate.
"I don't know what they fed you as a kid, but it should be banned. No man should have this kind of stamina," I mutter.
"You didn't seem to mind," he says, his voice curling around the words. He laughs under his breath again. "My baby bird roaring."
I stab him with my eyes. "I'm serious, Ben. Your family might forgive you, but what about me? Pack my stuff. Now. I'm leaving right now."
He licks his lips, unfazed and somewhat amused, and shakes his head. "Trust me. I know this house. My parents are all the way on the ground floor. They did not hear you."
He checks the frame of the bed, then gets up. "Stay here. I'll get you water."
"Uh-huh, and whose fault is it that I can't move?" I throw him an indignant look.
"Mine," he says and presses a gentle kiss on my belly. "And it'll stay that way."