She licked three fingers and dropped her hand between her legs, more to get him to stop talking than because she really needed it. There was moisture inside her, and the condom was lubricated. Ben would take care of the rest.
He watched her hand, eyes glittering. “That’s fucking hot.”
“My new quarterback boyfriend tells me that all the time.”
“Smart-ass.” Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he found the right angle and sank inside her.
“Ohh.” She arched up off the couch, seeking to get closer to him. To pull his heat deeper.
Their breathing became its own language, long exhales and short, gasping inhales voiced as quietly as they could manage. He felt so good, his thick length claiming her the way she’d been waiting for all day.
You’ve been waiting all day for him to claim you.
Guh, she had. She was. One more stupid hope, balanced on the cliff edge and waiting to be tipped over and dashed. Surely if he’d planned to claim her, he’d have done it already, rather than spend the day going along with the ridiculous lie Allie had invented.
Surely if she deserved his regard, she’d have said something. Done something by now. Something much more brave and definitive than sneaking him off for a quickie in the bonus room.
But what was he doing here, inside her house, inside her body, if not claiming her? Why make friends with her family, share a beer with her father, tease her mother in the other room if not because he wanted this, and he wanted everyone to know it?
Stupid questions. Stupid girl, to be getting her hopes up.
Still. Still. He’d made her this way. She couldn’t pretend, with Ben inside her body, that this half-assed, undefinable relationship of theirs was entirely in her head.
She squeezed him tight, digging her nails into his ass so he’d take her faster and rougher.
She couldn’t pretend not to care. He was leaving, and she cared.
She wanted him to stay with her, and she would tell him so.
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She would clear things up with Dan. She would stand up to her mother. Tomorrow.
Now this was all they needed. His fingers tangled in her hair, wrapping it into a fist to create a tug against her scalp. Stinging pleasure to match the sharp intrusion between her thighs, the cutting pressure of his hips moving in rough, synchronized thrusts against her own.
Their joined bodies moistened until they began to glide, pleasure singing over her skin, tripping her lungs, curling her toes.
His mouth on her throat, open and hot. The scrape of his teeth.
Ben bit her neck. Hard.
“Ouch!”
“I owed you that.”
He nipped her lip, then kissed her. Purposeful at first, but soon the kiss lost focus. When he pulled away, his eyes were only half-open, his cheeks and throat flushed. “I’m close.”
“Touch me.”
He shook his head. Grabbed her wrist. Pushed her hand between them. “You.”
Ben had lifted his chest off her, bracing himself on both hands and staring down at the place where their bodies joined, and she had to admit, it turned her on. So primitive, watching his glistening flesh disappear at the same time that she lifted to meet him.
She touched him first, lightly circling his base with her thumb and fingers.
“May,” he groaned. “For Christ’s sake, we’re trying to get you off. That’s just—”
She tightened her grip, and he inhaled sharply through his nose.