“Mmm,” I respond, drowsy with bliss. “They’re everywhere.”
“They are,” he agrees, and kisses another spot on my buttock. His teeth graze my skin and I bite back a moan. His hands grip both rounded curves of my bottom, kneading them, and then he kisses another spot. And another. His tongue flicks out over my skin, as if he can’t resist tasting me with every brush of his mouth, and my arousal surges. By the time he reaches the spot where my butt cheek joins with my thigh, I’m squirming with heat.
And still Ben moves his mouth over me. He palms my ass again and then whispers over my skin, “Raise your hips for me, Reggie. I’ve got more places to check for freckles.”
I moan. Loud. My fingers tangle in the sheets, gripping desperately, even as I rise up on my knees and lower my head again, my ass in the air.
“Ahhhh,” Ben murmurs, his hands skimming over my hips possessively. “I definitely need to check for more freckles.”
And before I can respond to that, he pushes my legs apart just a little more, and then his mouth is between my thighs.
I cry out. I’ve had boyfriends go down on me in the past, but never from this angle. There’s an entirely new intensity to things, and Ben seems like he’s in so very deep as he tongues me, learning the folds of my pussy. I quiver every time he strokes his tongue over my skin, and my hips push higher into the air, as if that can somehow assist the situation.
“Still checking,” he murmurs, and then his tongue teases a circle around my clit.
A sob breaks in my throat and I bite down on my fingers, because it’s either that or I’m going to start screaming for an orgasm. Nothing has ever felt as good as Ben Magnus’s mouth between my legs, and he seems determined to take just as much time there as he did worshipping each freckle.
He licks me endlessly. Slow licks. Fast licks. Teasing licks. Exploring licks. Licks that go from clit to backside and then up again. There’s no inch of skin he leaves unattended to, and he’s shameless in his tonguing. He pushes his tongue inside me, tasting me, but never stays in one spot long enough to let my orgasm build. I writhe up against his mouth, frantic, as he continues to fuck me with his tongue, and he still won’t let me come. Not yet.
“Please, Ben,” I pant, my toes permanently curled. “Please, please. Need you.”
“I know you do, Freckles.” His voice is like liquid against my skin, smoky and erotic. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you come.”
And he strokes a finger deep inside me.
The caw I make is one of both pleasure and frustration, and I shamelessly grind against his hand as he drives his finger into me. It feels so good, especially when paired with the flicking of his tongue, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough, and it’s making me absolutely crazed with need. “Don’t . . .” I pant. “Don’t call me Freckles.”
“But I love your freckles,” he tells me in a sultry tone, and then gives me another intense lick. “They’re beautiful and unique, just like you.” He flicks his tongue in an utterly ticklish way that makes me squirm anew. “But if you don’t like it, I’ll call you something else.”
“Ben,” I plead, desperate to come.
“Not that. It’ll get too confusing.”
I grind my fist into the blankets even as he drags that finger inside me. “You. Stop talking. Fuck me.”
Ben chuckles, and his mouth rubs against my backside. Then he sighs. “I don’t have protection, Reggie. We can’t do everything tonight.”
A whiny sound of protest escapes me. “What about . . . magic? A potion?”
One hand strokes my ass while his fingers work my pussy. “Can’t. That sort of magic won’t get answered. The gods are big enthusiasts of surprise pregnancies, which, given mythology, isn’t exactly surprising. We’ll have to save the rest for some other time.”
I can’t believe I’m being cock-blocked by millennia-old Roman deities.
“But don’t worry,” Ben continues. “I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart.”
“Yes! Yes. Now.” I’m so hungry for it. I want more and more and more.
Ben’s hands leave my body, and I make a growl of frustration. In the next moment, though, his head appears between my legs. He grabs me by the backs of my thighs and pulls me down, and I realize he’s on his back on the bed, and he wants me to sit on his face. With a little cry, I do as he demands, and his mouth is everywhere, devouring me. He settles on my clit, sucking and tonguing, and one of his fingers steals into my core once more. Using mouth and hand, he works me hard, his tempo increasing until the orgasm he’s been teasing finally crashes through me, drawing another undignified cry out of my throat and a full-body shudder out of the rest of me.
I collapse over him, and Ben keeps kissing my thighs, my pussy, everywhere he can reach. “So beautiful,” he murmurs. “Love touching you, sweetheart.”
When my brain finally feels like it’s stuffed back into my head again, I roll off him and flop onto my back on the bed. “Good lord.”
Ben moves up next to me on the bed, on his belly, and takes my hand, kissing the palm.
I give him a dazed look. “You’re really good at that.”
“I know.”
I push my palm against his face, smirking. “I take it back. No one needs to feed that ego of yours. It’s plenty healthy already.”
He grins against my hand and then presses a kiss to each of my fingertips, all boyish pleasure and flushed face. I roll onto my side, facing him and studying his expression. There’s an odd sort of peace on his features I haven’t seen before. Like he’s vomited out all of his past, expecting me to hate him. Now that it’s no longer hanging over him like a dark cloud, he’s calm. Happy.
I snuggle closer and give him a kiss. Just a light one, but Ben holds me against him, his lips hungry, and I’m reminded that only one of us came. “What about you?”
Ben nips on my lower lip. “What do you mean? I enjoyed that, too.” His eyes are hazy, and he can’t stop kissing me. “I love touching you, Reggie. I want to touch you all night long. I want to touch you until the sun rises. Until the next full moon, and the one after that.” He grins. “And the one after that . . . and the one after that . . .”
It fills me with a strange, unholy sort of joy that someone could want me that much. Me, who’s always been the afterthought, the roommate, the one left behind, the one not quite right for the job. Ben sees me as whole, complete, and desirable. He hasn’t left my side in all this mess, even when he was mad at me. It just makes me want him all the more.
I push him onto his back and lean over him, kissing his face. “Is it going to bother you if I clean up this room after we’re done?”
“Depends.” The heat is still there in his eyes, and I can feel the hardness of his length against my thigh. “Will you be naked?”
“So naked cleaning is acceptable to you?” I pretend to consider this. “What if I offer to clean you?”
“Will you be naked?” he asks again.
I chuckle, smacking his chest lightly. “You’re obsessed with my nudity.”
“It’s because you look so good like this.” His eyes are dark with both lust and approval.
I slide my hand down to his cock, very aware of how hard he is, how he made the pleasure all about me. “And what do we do about this?”
“What do you want to do about it?”
He feels like a shaft of pure heat in my hand, and I can’t resist stroking him. All the romance novels describe a cock as velvet-wrapped steel, and they’re not actually wrong. He’s all hot, soft skin over a rigid length, and I love touching him and exploring him with my fingers, even though I know I’m making him crazy. As I skim the heel of my palm down his length, he kisses me again, his mouth more urgent this time.
“I think I want to touch you,” I whisper to him, smiling. “But I never finished asking my questions earlier. You distracted me.”