Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7)

I graze my teeth lightly around her nipple, watching her. I don’t want to push too much so soon. I’m going to drive her over the edge, give her pleasure like she’s never had before, but I have to pace myself. She bites her lip, parting her thighs even wider. I’ve brought her to climax with my mouth now I want to do the same with my fingers. And I want to kiss her when she finishes, capturing the sound.

I unbutton her jeans but don’t remove them, just slide my hand under the fabric of her panties, caressing slowly over her pubic bone. She’s shuddering with anticipation. I kiss her when I finally lower my fingers over her opening. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. She’s so wet and warm, so ready, it damn near kills me not to sink into her right here on this desk. I stroke her, kissing up all her moans, greedy for her sounds. They grow more intense as I find her clit and press around it, against it, finding just the perfect rhythm for her. I wait until she becomes drenched and then slip two fingers inside her, pressing the heel of my palm against her clit. She shudd

ers almost violently. When I arch my fingers into a come-here motion, she clenches around me.

She digs her fingernails in my arms, arching more against me, and I kiss her hard, claiming her sound of pleasure as she climaxes. Then I hold her close to me, steadying her until her breathing relaxes, whispering sweet and dirty nothings in her ear. I won’t deny that knowing I was the first to give her an orgasm is a big boost to my ego. But it’s also something more, beyond pride or ego. Just the thought that other men have touched her is torture for me. It’s the first time I wish I’d been a woman’s first in all the ways. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m experiencing many firsts with Clara, and have a hunch more will follow.

But right now, I need to take care of her, make sure she gets her sleep. She’s been working the entire weekend and helped me out tonight. It’s high time I took care of her. First step, covering her up, because having her beautiful breasts in my face is tempting fate and my self-control. I did a good job of ignoring the strain in my boxers when I was concentrating on her pleasure, but now I have to grit my teeth.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting your bra on.” Once that’s done and her nipples aren’t in my face anymore, I relax as she arranges her top over the bra.

“What now?”

“Now we’re going to go upstairs, and I’m going to prepare a bath for you. Which you will take alone, so you can relax and sleep. I’m sticking to that plan.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow for the week. We’re moving filming to L.A. until the set is rebuilt.” She bats her eyelashes, then kisses my cheeks, whispering, “Does that change your plans?”

“You’re going to kill me, woman.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Clara

I have no memory of getting upstairs, but then I do tell Blake I want to take a quick shower—alone. When I emerge, Blake is standing in my bedroom, naked. My mouth dries as I take him in, and I keep my towel safely around me until I reach the bed. Crawling backwards on the bed, I peel away the towel.

I can’t wait to trace every ridge on his stomach and those oblique muscles with my tongue. He’s watching me with an expression of pure male want, stroking himself while his eyes scan me, and lust shoots through me. He’s scorching hot for me.

“Just so you know, tonight I’m going to take my time with you. I won’t leave any inch of you undiscovered.”

I swallow. Old fears rush in and I bite the inside of my cheek, searching for the right words. “Can we turn the lights off?”

Blake jerks his head back in surprise. “If it makes you comfortable, of course.”

I nod and he switches the light off, then joins me on the bed, lounging next to me, propping his head in his hand.

“Clara, I know I’m so hard that I can barely see straight, but if you want to wait, or you’ve just changed your mind, tell me. We’ll still be friends and neighbors.”

I appreciate this more than he can know. But I have to open up—it’s preferable to Blake thinking I don’t want him. Because I do. Desperately.

“I have some marks on my back.”

“Marks?”

“Yeah, scars.”

For all my bravado, the first time always makes me nervous. It seems to be worse with Blake, which is ridiculous because I trust him more than anyone I’ve been with. But maybe especially because of that, I want him to really like me, to hopefully accept all parts of me.

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“One of the kids at the group home did a prank. He mixed acid in my shower gel.”

Blake’s body goes rigid next to me.

“I was super lucky that I accidentally hit the bottle and the contents spilled onto my back first.”

“That was no prank.”