Bennett’s only goal was to get me off, in record time. There was no teasing; there was no flicking of the tongue or gentle warm-up kisses around my soft, bare skin. There was only open mouth, suction and, finally, the press of his fingers at my entrance, swirling, gathering my slick lust with his fingertips.
But he didn’t do what I expected. Instead, he slid his thumb into me and dragged his wet fingers to my backside, where he carefully pressed one just inside. I let out the most desperate, pathetic moan of my life and slid my hands into his hair, holding him steady so I could rock against his face. Bennett didn’t penetrate me there often, but when he did it—whether with fingers or his cock—it always left me sated and dopey for days.
His mouth sucked and pulled at my tender skin, and his finger and thumb pressed together and away, a pulsing dark pleasure. The sensation was somehow both too much and not enough. I wanted everything he was doing to be deeper, and harder, and bigger almost to the point of pain. My pleasure built low in my belly, a steady, throbbing hum between my legs. I feared the explosion would elude me, that there was too much else happening out there, on the other side of the door. I worried nothing but Bennett’s naked body would be enough, heavy and commanding, pounding into mine.
But then, as if reading my thoughts, he slid a second finger into my backside, and fucked me hard and fast until my thighs shook, my hands curled in his hair, and the growing sensation between my legs exploded into delicious flames that shot down my thighs and bowed my spine, tearing a cry from my throat.
Bennett didn’t let up until I was gasping, clutching at his shoulders and trying to push him away. Then, gently, he kissed my clit and leaned back, looking up at me.
“Think that will hold you over until tomorrow night?”
I let my head fall back against the wall, feeling like my legs were made of jelly. “Yeah.”
“You look properly fucked.”
Sighing, I mumbled, “I feel properly fucked. You and that magical mouth and those naughty fingers.”
“Figured that might be in order.” He stood, straightening his jacket with his other hand.
I reached down, cupping his cock, stroking down to his balls and back up, feeling the thick head of his erection. “One of us should get back out there. We’ve been gone . . . a few minutes. Seriously Bennett, that was pretty stunning.”
I heard his teeth grind, and peeked up at him to see his tense jaw working side to side. “I know.”
“So sorry I don’t have time to reciprocate,” I whispered, stretching to kiss his jaw.
“No you’re not.”
“Well,” I said, patting his cheek, “you need to go wash up anyway. May as well pull double duty and jerk off in the bathroom.” I kissed his chin, adding, “Again.”
He bent low, inhaling into my neck, before slamming his hand on the wall beside my head, turning, and storming out of the dressing room. Walking to the wall, I flipped on the light and studied my reflection in the mirrors lining the room. I tucked a stray strand of hair back into my little diamond clip and smiled at myself in the mirror before stepping out into the hall.
Will walked out of the men’s room just as Bennett shoved past him inside. Turning to me, he laughed, asking, “What’s with him?”
Shrugging, I said simply, “It’s his own fault.”
He nodded in mock sympathy and then asked, “You ready for tomorrow?”
“Not remotely.”
He put an arm around me. “It’ll be perfect. And even if it’s not perfect, there will be alcohol.”
“I know,” I said, smiling. “I’m actually not nervous, just—”
“Mommy, that’s the man with the big weenis! I saw him in the bathroom earlier!”
We both looked down to see the small son of Bennett’s third cousin Kate pointing at Will.