The effect was instantaneous. Pushing her back into the middle of the bed, Ben moved to cover her body with his, and as she arched slightly to meet him every inch of their bodies was pressed into delicious contact. Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers, to claim it as his own, but she squirmed slightly beneath him.
‘I don’t need the niceties,’ she said, flushing red at her boldness. ‘I just need you to take me. To make me forget.’
Ben scanned her face. It must have taken some courage for
her to say that. He hesitated. Since he’d met her, kissed her, six weeks ago, she had danced into his late-night fantasies, but this wasn’t the way he’d imagined their first time to be. Still, there would be plenty of time for languid, indulgent exploration of each other’s bodies the next time—and the time after that. If immediate release was what she wanted now, this time, then he wasn’t objecting. He just wanted Thea—to touch her, to claim her.
He slid his knee between her legs, gliding his hands over her skin.
‘Open for me,’ he murmured, revelling in her immediate compliance, sliding his fingers between her legs and finding her hot and wet.
‘God...’ He gave a guttural groan. ‘You’re going to be my undoing.’
She gasped as he dipped inside her, finding her clit and flicking back and forth, knowing just the right amount of pressure to elicit a moan of pleasure from her. But before he could continue her hand pushed down between their bodies, her fingers latching around his wrist as she pushed him away, wrapping her legs around him instead and shifting her body so it was central to his.
The tip of his erection skimmed her damp heat and he heard another low moan. It took him a moment to realise it was his own voice.
‘No niceties, Ben. Remember?’ Thea muttered.
‘This is all you want?’ Ben asked. Holding back when he was this close was almost unbearable, but he had to be sure.
‘It’s all I want,’ she confirmed, burying her head in his shoulder.
Unable to hold back any longer, he pushed inside her, feeling her stretch around him, tilting her pelvis up slightly to draw him in deeper and deeper. Her arms slid around his back, holding on to him as he rocked inside her. He knew he was close—six weeks of almost nightly dreams of Thea, and none of them had come close to the reality. And this wasn’t even their best. But, if the way she was tightening around him was anything to go by, he wasn’t the only one close to the edge.
Resting his weight on one arm as he continued his relentless rhythm, he reached for her thigh with his other arm, hooking his hand under her knee and locking her leg around his back. The action opened her up just a fraction more, and Ben heard her little sounds of pleasure as he thrust deeper, harder. Then she was arching up again, her breath quickening, and as she orgasmed she tightened around him—only moments before he felt his own climax crashing over him. His back stiffened and he groaned, spilling inside her, barely able to think but careful to hold his weight off her.
‘Ben...?’ she whispered, almost expectantly.
Was she waiting for him to say something? For a split second he wished he was good with words—wished he could tell her how he felt right now. Instead he froze, and reality hit him.
This was exactly why he’d needed to stay away from her. He would always be shutting her out, and she would always be fighting for him to let her in. He would never be able to give her what she needed. He was useless.
It was only when he raised himself up to look at her that he saw the tears spilling from her eyes. Horrified, he slipped out of her, rolling onto his side to pull her into his arms.
Thea resisted.
This was what he’d been afraid of.
‘This was one of the three most horrific days of my life...’ She stumbled over her words.
‘I know.’ What more could he say?
‘I just thought it would make it better. Us. Together. Just this once.’
‘And it didn’t?’ He felt sick. Of course it hadn’t. Hadn’t he told himself this would happen?
She shook her head, the tears coming faster now.
‘If anything, it’s made it worse.’
Moving quickly off her bed, he searched for his boxers. Found them. Slid them on as quickly as he could.
He had known she wasn’t thinking straight. But he should have known better—saved her from herself. Instead he had taken shameless advantage of her. All because his own lust for her had let him believe her when she’d said it was what she wanted.
His brain searched for something to say—anything which would express how very sorry he was. Nothing came. How could it?
The past—their past—his emotional distance...it was all bound to catch up with them sooner or later. Perhaps it was best that it was sooner. Before anything more happened between them. He needed to get away—put some space between them before he hurt her any more than he already had.