Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7)

When he’s inside me to the base, his balls slap along the crack between my ass cheeks, making my legs quiver. Pleasure strums through me, sharp and unexpected.

“You like this, Clara?”

“I love it. Please move.”

Since my legs are suspended, I can’t move myself, or I’d be rocking against him. He smiles wickedly, and I realize how completely he owns me right now. My pleasure is all in his power. Slowly, he rocks in and out, and I moan in relief.

Keeping his hands at the base of my inner thighs, Blake loves me deeper and more urgently by the second. Each time I think my bliss can’t ratchet any higher, he proves me wrong. I feel on display more than physically right now. No one’s ever known me the way Blake does: intimately, sentimentally, in all ways. When an unbearable pressure takes hold of my lower body, I need to touch my clit more than I need my next breath. I let go of one leg—

“Don’t move your hands.”

“Then touch my clit, please. Blake, I need this so badly,” I pant, the force of his thrusts no longer bringing me pleasure, but more intense longing. I desperately crave my release. Blake brings one hand to twist one nipple lightly, then the other. My breasts move with each thrust, and as a drop of sweat from his forehead lands above my navel, he lowers his hand to my clit. I spoke too soon—

He circles his thumb around my clit. Oh, God no. I can’t take more build-up. Every breath comes out shaky. My entire body quivers.

“I need to come Blake, please.”

“I like hearing you beg.”

He strokes directly over my clit once, and I erupt. Blake leans over me, covering my mouth with his, intertwining his fingers with mine. I come so hard I nearly fade out, but I cling to this moment for dear life because I don’t want to miss even one second of this incredible closeness,

and I want to watch Blake come. As he pulls away from my mouth, his handsome face contorts with pleasure, a blue vein bulging along his throat. I press my heels against his ass on every thrust.

When I feel him widen inside me, I push myself up a tad, kissing him, muffling the sound of his climax like he did to me seconds ago, keeping my eyes open and soaking in all the goodness of this moment.

After he removes the condom and we clean ourselves, we lie in bed on our sides, watching each other.

He grips my right hip in that deliciously possessive way of his. “I needed you so badly: your voice, your warmth... and that’s so new to me. You make everything right. Thank you for being here for me tonight.”

“I’ll be here for as long as you want me to. Let me be your anchor tonight, Blake.”

Blake makes a rushed sound, like a sharp intake of breath. He locks his gaze on mine, his fingers pressing into my flesh a notch deeper.

“What if I want you to be my anchor for more than tonight?”

My pulse speeds up, my chest filling with warmth, and hope floods me. Hope for so many things: a life together, going to bed next to him every night, waking up with him still by my side. Raising a family together—maybe one as numerous as his own. Damn, what’s wrong with me? The man is not proposing. But he is putting himself out there, giving me a piece of himself he was holding back.

“Anytime you need me to be.” My voice catches at the end, and I bite down on my lip as I make the decision to go out on a limb, even further than he went. It feels like I’m putting my heart on a platter and handing it to him, like I’m giving him complete power over me. But I feel brave, and I think he needs to hear it.

“I am going to tell you something, and I don’t expect you to say it back. I don’t have any expectations at all, but I want you to know. I love you, Blake. Truly and deeply, and these feelings I’m having...they won’t go away. I know we agreed on “no labels”, so....”

He gently cups the side of my face, his thumb tracing my lips, as if he can barely believe the words that came out. He opens his mouth but I cover it with my hand. I don’t want him to feel pressured, or to think this is an ultimatum of some sort.

“Don’t say it back or I’ll think you’re saying it because I said it.”

I feel his lips curl in a smile against my palm, and I drop my hand.

“What’s the appropriate time to wait so you don’t think I’m saying it because you said it?”

Nope, totally not imagining how our kids might look. Also not imagining how cute his dimple and rich hair would look on a boy. Keep your feet on the ground, Clara. Easier said than done when the rest of my body feels airborne.

“I don’t know. A day? A week?”

“Have I told you how amazing you are?”

I swear my heart doubles in size. It will explode soon. “I believe you have, but feel free to tell me that again. You can add smart and cunning while you’re at it.”

“How about chatterbox?”