Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7)

“Oh, Blake!”

I plant my feet firmly onto the mattress, needing to ground myself. He pulls his tongue out, leaving me feeling empty. Then he licks up one fold, starting from my entrance right up to near my clit. He repeats the motion on the other fold, driving me absolutely crazy. Every synapse snaps to life, greedy for more.

He draws circles with his tongue, starting from my entrance, and going up, up, up, then down again. But he isn’t touching my clit, never my clit. Each time his wicked hot tongue approaches it, I dig my heels deeper into the bed, anticipating the delicious—if brief—reprieve, but it never comes. Instead, my anticipation rises and rises, and it’s downright killing me. I’m panting frantically, needing a release from the sweet torture. I’m so turned on I can feel myself dripping.

“Blake. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”

A stirring low in my body alerts me that an orgasm is building inside me. The recognition sends a bolt of heat coursing through me. When Blake finally sucks my clit into his mouth, I explode. My hips buck up and Blake greedily cups my ass, digging his fingers into my cheeks. Even lost to pleasure as I am, I can feel his desperation, his hunger for me. The intensity of his passion sends me over the edge. My climax is so intense it leaves me breathless.

He kisses my inner thighs, then comes up, resting his arms at the sides of my shoulders, caging me in. I want to tell him many things, but I’m still too high on pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

He kisses me, and I can taste myself on him. My body reacts instantly, pressing into him.

There is as much tenderness in him as there is passion, and that tugs at my heartstrings. I like being surrounded by him, feeling his chest press against my breasts, his arms at my sides. A strange thought occurs to me: I never want him to let go. With a shake of my head, I shove the silly thought aside, focusing on the here and now. Now that I’m not lost in the realm of lust anymore, I can see his eyes are hooded with desire—and his erection is pressing against my thigh.

“You’re so sexy when you come, Clara.” His voice is rough, and I inexplicably think of whiskey and honey. I want to make him happy too, so I push him off. Once he’s standing, I climb down from the bed, standing on my knees in front of him, undoing the button, and lowering the zipper. I push his jeans down, but in my haste, grab his boxers too. Next thing I know, his erection springs free, slapping me lightly against my cheek. And holy hell. It isn’t just impressive; it’s about eight inches of huge.

I wrap my palm around his erection, moving up and down, then bring my mouth to the crown, licking it once. Blake’s nostrils flare. Hmm...well that isn’t good enough. I wonder what it would take to make his composure slip, then resolve to find out immediately.

When I clamp my lips around him, he moans out my name. Now we’re talking. I slide my mouth up and down, running my tongue over the tip every time I come up. Then I lower my mouth, taking more in. I’ll never be able to take him completely, but I want as much as possible.

“How deep can you go?” Blake asks on a deep groan.

In response, I lower my mouth more until I feel him at the back of my throat. It’s comfortable, but sweet heavens, so deep. Blake takes my hand and wraps it around his base, covering the part I’m not able to take in.

In that moment, I look up at him, and I think this might be the most erotic moment of my life. I’ll make this good for him. I want it to be the best he’s had, just like he’s made it for me. I move my mouth and fist in unison, squeezing him as tight as I can, as fast as I can.

“I like that you’re so greedy.”

And I become greedier still. For his sounds of pleasure, for his heated looks. Every time I look up, his face is more contorted with pleasure. His composure has been long forgotten, and I love seeing this raw side of him.

His hand goes in my hair and his fingers gently tug at my roots, moving in sync with me. In the beginning, I think it’s because he wants to guide me, but then I realize it’s to stop me just before I take him in too deep. When he widens inside my mouth, he tries to pull out, but I grab his ass with both hands.

“Clara....”

In response, I just dig my fingers in his ass cheeks. Blake comes the next moment, murmuring my name, and I love every second of it. I wait until he calms down and his breathing eases to let go and rise to my feet. Blake helps me, holding each of my hands in his. Instead of letting go when I’m steady on my feet, he pulls me closer and kisses me hard and hot.

“You are amazing,” he says, buttoning up his jeans.

“Ah, nothing you say now counts. It’s all the post-orgasm bliss. Look at you, you’re practically shining.”

“I think my masculinity just took a hit. Shining, really?”

“Would glowing be better?”

He holds up a hand. “Stop right there.”

That’s when I read the time on the grandfather clock behind him. “Oh God. I was supposed to help put up decorations.”

Panicking, I push my skirt down—it was still around my waist—then look around the room for my panties. They’re under the bed. I bend to retrieve them, and I’m about to put them on when I realize I should wash first. Blake’s made me all sweaty and messy again.

“I have to clean up,” I inform him, just as I dash past him and head to the bathroom. He’s not in sight when I get out again, but the connecting door is open, and I hear the sound of running water coming from his bathroom.

I’m unsure if I’m supposed to wait for him or what the protocol for this is. Or where we stand. But right now, I don’t want to overthink or analyze. I just want to feel and enjoy. Also, he left the door open, which I take as a good sign. Curious about his room, I walk over there, closing the connecting door behind me. The room mirrors mine, only the color of the walls differing—mine are lemon, his are white.

Several things happen when he steps out of the bathroom. First, he heads straight to me, pulling me into a kiss. Second, the door bursts open and Mia and Elena barrel into the room. I jump away from Blake. The girls stare at us.

“Sorry, Uncle Blake, we’ll come back later,” Mia says. Not many people can tell them apart, but I can.