“I’ve been thinking about getting to taste you for seven years,” Ben says softly. He nuzzles his nose against my clit, sending shockwaves zapping between my legs. He kisses my folds gently, teasing me. Preparing me. Making me yearn. He licks at my folds. And all the while his fingers are gently teasing, coaxing, wooing—but not penetrating. Finally, without warning, he sinks several fingers inside me and swirls his warm, wet tongue against my clit, and instantly, an orgasm overtakes me.
I moan and clutch Ben’s head to steady myself.
“Ben,” I whisper. “Oh, God.”
But he’s just getting started. He begins fingering me in earnest while eating me out with near-religious zeal, and my body jolts and bucks and surges against his fingers and tongue. Oh, lord. I fist his chestnut hair, not trusting my traitorous legs to hold me up through Ben’s delicious assault. He’s a man possessed. He leans my back against the door and props my left thigh onto his muscled shoulder, opening me to him, and I tilt my pelvis into his hungry mouth in reply. He shifts his fingers inside me and begins dragging his fingers across my G-spot with increased fervor. All the while, his tongue is swirling and licking me to heaven. I growl with pleasure. Shudder and buck. Until, soon, my pleasure is so acute, I feel almost tortured by it. I claw at Ben’s bare shoulders, gasping, mewing, gripping his hair feverishly, desperate for release . . . and, finally, blessedly, come, yet again, with a loud and guttural moan.
The instant my orgasm ends, I want Ben inside me more than I want to breathe. And that’s exactly what I tell him.
“Bedroom,” he commands, rising to standing, his dick beaded with arousal.
“Through there,” I gasp out, indicating.
Ben’s dark eyes burning and his lips slick and shiny, he grabs his jeans off the floor, fishes a condom packet from his pocket, and gets his impressive length covered—and then grabs my hand and practically drags me toward my bedroom.
Once in my bedroom, I crawl onto my bed and flip onto my back and open my legs wide, inviting him in no uncertain terms to have his way with me, but he flips me over roughly, making me squeal, and guides me to my hands and knees like I’m nothing but his plaything. And I love it. Of course, I’m expecting him to plunge his covered erection inside me and give me a fuck to remember, but that’s not what he does. Instead, he shocks the hell out of me by eating me out from behind. No, not eating me. Consuming me in a way I’ve never experienced before. He sucks on my clit and folds and laps and nibbles at my delicate flesh, all the while fucking me with what’s got to be at least three fingers. Holy shit, this isn’t the boy who lost his virginity to me seven years ago. This is a man who knows exactly how to command my body without being told what to do.
I’m on the verge, again. Which would be a first, even for a girl like me. Three orgasms? Impossible. But, yes, I can feel another one gathering strength inside me. I begin rocking back and forth on my hands and knees, moaning loudly, trying desperately to withstand the overload of pleasure I’m experiencing. Howling, I beg him not to stop. Tell him I’m close. Praise him like he’s God himself. Finally, he does something back there—something where he’s got his fingers inside me and pressed against my clit and inside my ass, all at once—and I can’t hold on any longer. In a sudden explosion of pleasure that literally takes my breath away, I come so hard my entire body convulses and collapses onto the bed like I’ve been electrocuted.
As my womb slams up and down and my nerve endings surge and explode, Ben lifts my pelvis, grips my hips forcefully, and plunges his covered length inside me from behind—all the freaking way.
I cry out at his shockingly deep penetration and he groans behind me.
He begins fucking me. He reaches around to pinch my nipple. And then fondle the curve of my breast. He snakes his free hand around my pelvis and rubs my clit, still fucking me deep and hard. Thrust after delicious thrust rams into me, filling me up, until, soon, I’m coming, yet again—this time so hard I feel like my eyes are physically rolling back into my head.
“Oh, fuck,” Ben says when my walls begin constricting around him. He yanks himself out of me. “I don’t want to come yet. Fuck.”
He flips me around and crawls on top of me, his eyes locked with mine, slides himself inside me again, and proceeds to fuck me at this new angle.
“Kaylee,” Ben whispers, his voice strained. He raises my arms above my head on the mattress, clasps his fingers in mine, and gyrates on top of me in a way that sends rockets of pleasure shooting all the way into my toes and scalp. “Kaylee. Oh, God.”