to the end of the bed, swallowing as I roll it on him. His heavy breathing over me and my racing heart keep me in this. My chest tightens unbearably, but I want this so much.
I lie back on the bed and he spreads my legs and looks at me, fascinated, as he rubs his fingers between my thighs again. He doesn’t relent, moving wetness over my clit in a languorous move that doesn’t match his shallow breathing and hooded eyes.
The bundle of nerves is on fire and I know he’s dragging me close to the edge. I grab his shoulders in warning.
Ben meets my gaze. His hair hangs down over his face and I want to brush it out of the way, or catch it in my hand and shove that smug face where I want it so badly.
He hooks one hand under my knee and lifts me so I’m exposed. My breathy moan is all excitement, all anticipation. He’s not even inside me yet and I’m trembling. He rocks against me in a way that’s deliberate but aware, as if he knows he’s big or wants to be careful with me.
But once he’s an inch deep, his entire body goes tense. “Fuck, you’re tight.”
It’s a warning, one I don’t know if he issued to me or himself.
Ben sinks into me, his determination winning out over my body’s resistance to his length and width. My nails rake his shoulders as I moan, squeezing around him.
My knee is pressed to my boob, holding me open at an angle that makes him feel bigger, deeper, more. Or maybe it’s not the angle that’s overwhelming, and it’s the fact that he’s inside me. My best friend, the guy I’ve always looked at too long, who’s always made me smile and driven me crazy.
He’s doing more than that now as he forces his eyes open to meet mine. They’re hazy with need and something possessive and primal. Every part of me is spasming, trying to get him out and take him deeper at once.
“Is this okay?” He nods at my knee between us.
I swallow. “It’s intense. I like how deep you are.”
Ben presses his forehead to mine, his lips curving in a half smile. “I don’t hate it either. But stop moving or this is going to be over too fast.”
It’s my turn to lift my chin and slant him a look as I squeeze him, this time on purpose.
“Not funny,” he says on an exhale.
“Kind of funny,” I whisper.
He pins my hips firmly with his, catching one of my hands and pressing it to the bed. It's commanding, possessive.
But the first time he pulls back and sinks back in, we both groan. It's so good, and nowhere near enough at once.
Every stroke drags me higher. Him slowing the pace makes it better and worse, because I’m living for every time he fills me, and aching every time he leaves.
His fingers brush my clit and I grab his hand away. “If you touch me now, I’ll scream.”
Ben's slow grin takes my thudding heart and makes it swell unbearably. “Do it. I’ll personally apologize to every person in this hotel tomorrow morning for disrupting their sleep.”
The thought should be mortifying.
It’s mostly hot, and as he resumes his deliberate torture, I burn up.
Eventually, even the slowest rhythm can’t keep what’s between us under control.
“Ben…” I whisper, threading my fingers through his hair.
His narrowed gaze meets mine and he sees what’s on my face—something fierce in my chest demands fulfillment.
I can pretend. I’m getting good at it. But even though I don't say the words, what I feel for him is humming beneath my skin. The truth is in every line of my body, my desire in every throbbing vein.
He shifts so he’s even deeper in me, stroking a spot that has me mindless with pleasure. I arch off the bed. Our bodies are fused together, the heat from our skin and the light sheen of sweat mingling.
I count the strokes, grateful for each one that’s not our last.
Three.
His hips are unrelenting now.
Two.
My core is so tight I’m shaking. My hands fist in his hair hard as my shoulders lift off the bed.
One.
I come first. The explosion starts deep within me, but within seconds, I feel it everywhere. My breasts, my legs, my lips, my toes.
Ben’s arms band around me, holding me so hard against him I can’t tell where one of us ends and the other begins when he follows, pulsing inside me as he