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I can feel him watching me as I watch him shove his sweats down to his feet. No boxers. Yay!

Oh!

Wow…

“I hope you’re on birth control,” he says.

Remember how I thought Liam was freakishly gorgeous? Well, Benson is freakishly physically perfect. Like, even his penis is a work of art.

I almost don’t understand his words, because I’m staring at that very hard, very large, perfect penis.

“I am,” I murmur dumbly.

He stalks to me, and my breath leaves when he jerks my shorts down my legs, surprising me with his roughness. When I look up, I see the desperation in his eyes, and it matches mine.

As he drags my shorts off my legs, I throw my shirt over to a corner, baring myself completely to him. He comes down on top of me, his lips finding mine again as I buck against him, searching for that perfect penis.

“Fuck, I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he groans against my neck, spreading my legs wider.

Trying to form a response becomes impossible when his head suddenly dips and disappears between my thighs. One swipe of his tongue has me forgetting the English language.

Two swipes of his tongue has me forgetting my name.

Three swipes of his tongue has me only remembering his name.

When he fastens that incredible mouth around my clit, I become a writhing, wild animal beneath him. He growls against me, holding my hips down, and the vibrations only add to the stimulation that is driving me wild.

My hips try to buck, but he continues pinning me to the bed, forcing me to feel every incredible bit of what he’s doing. It’s been three years since someone other than myself worked me toward orgasm, so I’m not ashamed when I come like an unpracticed virgin within barely a few minutes.

My hands grip his hair, trying to push him back as my entire body shudders over and over.

He finally caves and starts kissing his way up my body, and my mind idly wonders why I couldn’t have slept on top of him sooner. We could have been doing this all along.

His tongue circles my nipple, and then he shows it a little more attention when he sucks it into that talented, relentless, giving mouth. I mumble something like praise, gripping his hair and forcing him closer as my legs come up around his hips.

I’m strong, but not strong enough to force his body down to mine. His cock teasingly brushes my thigh as he keeps our bodies separated, moving his blessed mouth to the other nipple to show it some attention.

“Never hide that mouth again,” I moan, causing a small chuckle to escape his lips.

His lips leave my nipple and find my lips again, and I kiss him hungrily, desperately, needing all of him.

His hand snakes between us, and my breath hitches as he lines us up in the best possible way and thrusts in. Considering how wet I am, it’s not hard for him to sink almost fully in me with that one thrust.

He breaks the kiss to groan, his body going tight, then thrusts again, pushing the rest of him inside me as he shudders.

“I just realized how long it’s been since I’ve been with anyone,” he murmurs through strain. “Very possibly longer than three years.”

I grin, actually loving that confession.

“Hence the reason you don’t have a supply of condoms on hand,” I say, though the words sound breathy and winded.

He kisses me again, withdrawing and thrusting back once more. His body feels so tight, and I know he’s struggling. I break the kiss, smiling as I tug his head back.

“I’ve had an orgasm. Stop worrying. We can have sex more than once,” I say with a smile, while he narrows his eyes in challenge.

“You can have another one with me.”

His hand slips between us, and my smile dies, making room for my lips to form an “o” as his thumb finds my clit and starts making lazy circles as he thrusts in again.

My hands go everywhere, trying to touch him, mark him, feel as much of him as possible, as he continues to set a rhythm that borders on mind-blowing.

It passes that border when my next orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave, hitting every nerve in my body as I cry out. He thrusts harder and harder, dragging out my orgasm in the best possible way as he puts both hands beside my head to leverage himself up.

I’m still rambling in some foreign language, when suddenly…an ominous creak, pop, and snap tries to warn us. But we’re both too wrapped up in each other to even react as the bed plummets, crashing into the floor.

Benson doesn’t even stop thrusting as the bed frame collapses around us, falling into the walls and thankfully not us. It actually turns me on more, especially when I watch his face.


Tags: C.M. Owens The Wild Ones Romance