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Wild for You (Crave Book 2) Page 4
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Page 4
"Follow me."
When he turned, my eyes dropped to his butt. Hmmm, maybe a replay wouldn't be a problem. If the act was half as fantastic as the view, I wouldn't mind coming back again.
I realized as we left the kitchen that there was a row of stools on the other side of the bar. The kitchen opened directly into the living room, which I hadn't noticed because the room was dark. Ben hit a switch and all the lamps in the room flicked on. I stared in awe.
"Wow, this is a great room," I murmured.
It wasn't the polished chic you might see in a magazine, but it looked cozy and comfortable, exactly the kind of place I would love to curl up and work or watch TV. Or read the romance novels that Cam sent me even though I pretended I didn't. Not because I didn't love them, but because I loved driving her nuts.
Yes, it had already been established that I have a perverse sense of humor.
A huge sectional in a smoky blue was angled toward the corner, which would normally be weird but there was a fireplace in the corner, which was unique and gorgeous. It took up the entire corner and was faced with slate in dark and light grey. A huge TV was mounted above the mantel and I could almost see Ben sprawled out on the sofa with his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him as he watched a ball game or movie.
"You think?" he asked. "My mom always tells me that I need to hire an interior decorator."
I couldn't control my cringe because that sounded exactly like something my mother would say.
Ben laughed. "Yeah, I feel the same way. I want my furniture to be comfortable and not cost an arm and a leg. I don't want to be worried about spilling my drink or getting crumbs all over it. This is my house, not a museum."
"I totally agree. Though I draw the line at crumbs. Gotta clean those up or you get bugs."
He grinned and shook his head.
"I love your fireplace, too," I added.
"Thanks. Wanna see the rest?" he asked.
If it was anything like this living room, the answer was yes.
He showed me his office, the guest room with its own bath, and the spare room he'd turned into a gym. Well, I could understand now why his body was amazing. He had a lot of equipment in there.
Then, he stopped in front of a closed door at the end of the hall.
"What's in there?" I asked. "Your dungeon?"
Ben grinned. "Not quite. It's my room. I wasn't sure you'd want to see it."
"See it or do other things in it?" I took a step closer.
"Either. Both."
4
I touched my fingertips to the center of his chest. I could feel his heart speed up beneath my hand and I liked that he had such a strong reaction to my proximity.
"I think I'd like to do both," I said.
"You sure?" Ben asked. "I can take you home if—"
I lifted my hand from his chest and laid my fingers over his lips. They were softer than I expected, but I could still feel the slight rasp of his five o'clock shadow. He stopped talking and stared down at me.
"I'm staying." I paused, realizing that maybe all his offers to take me home were because he was the one who'd changed his mind. "Unless you don't want me to."
His response was to open the door to his bedroom.
"Is that a yes?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
"Definitely a yes." His mouth moved against my fingertips. Ben curled his fingers around mine and lowered my hand back down to his sternum.
I closed the miniscule distance left between us until our bodies touched. My breasts brushed his ribs just below my hand. I lowered my eyes and watched as my palm moved from the center of his chest to where the vee neck of his shirt revealed his collarbone. He inhaled sharply when I traced the line of his collarbone with one finger, curious about the texture of his skin. Whether it would be hot or cool.
He was warm and his skin was soft. A light dusting of chest hair peeked out of the neckline of his tee and I trailed my finger lower, touching the center of the vee.
Ben's hands closed around my waist, lifting me up on my toes. I raised my other hand and cupped the back of his neck as he lowered his head. It had been a long time since I'd anticipated a kiss this much, so long I'd forgotten the sweet torture of wondering and waiting. Of wanting to taste and touch.
His lips stopped just short of mine, as if he was giving me one last chance to change my mind. I didn't wait for him to realize that I was all in. I used my hold on his neck to tug him the final inch closer and pressed my mouth to his. His lips molded to mine, firm and confident. But he didn't go deeper, which surprised me. It was the type of kiss you'd give a guy on a first date, not a hook-up.
It wasn't until I ran the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip that the kiss went from searching to scorching.
His mouth opened and our tongues tangled. He tasted like vodka—strong, sharp, and intoxicating. I leaned further into him and his hands gripped my waist harder, plastering me to his body.
His heart was thundering beneath my palm and mine echoed it. Heat bloomed in my belly, spreading throughout my torso and shooting up my spine. God, the man could kiss.
The tips of his fingers slipped beneath my shirt, stroking the skin on my back where the waistband of my leggings hit. We were both breathing hard when he released my lips.
"I want to touch you," he whispered.
"Then, do it," I said, laying my mouth on his collarbone. I kissed his chest and then his neck, touching his skin with the tip of my tongue. His skin was hotter than before beneath my mouth and I felt the wild urge to take a bite out of him. I settled for nipping his throat with my teeth.
Ben groaned and spread his hands against my spine, running them up my back. My shirt rose with his movements so I grabbed the hem and yanked it off. I wanted it out of the way because I was burning with the need to be touched.
My bra wasn't anything special, just smooth black material that cupped my breasts. I was too busty for pretty bras because they often weren't supportive enough.
But it was obvious that Ben didn't give a damn about the type of bra I wore because his eyes were glued to my breasts. His hands had moved back to my waist when I took off my shirt but they remained locked there as we looked at each other.
"I thought you wanted to touch me," I said as he continued to devour me with his eyes. I needed him to touch me. I craved it. I dropped my shirt to the floor and arched toward him.
"I'm enjoying the view."
"Then it's only fair that I get a view too." I slid my hands beneath his tee and ran them up his abdomen to his chest. His muscles were firm under seeking palms and I dug my fingers into his pectorals just a bit. Suddenly, I had an even stronger urge to bite him, this time on his pectoral. I wanted to mark him so that he would look at it and think of me.
What the heck was going on with me? I'd never felt quite this animalistic before.
I wasn't tall enough to take his shirt off without help, but Ben reached behind his head, grabbed the back of his tee, and pulled it off. I had only ever seen men do that in movies but it was fucking hot in real life.
Still, it was nothing in comparison to the sight of his body. He wasn't joking when he said he worked out most mornings because he was built like an athlete. His upper body was a work of art, not only the shape and cut of his muscles but his tattoos as well.
"I don't know where to start," I muttered. Then, I clamped my mouth shut because I really hadn't meant to say that.
Ben took my hand from his waist and pressed it to his stomach. "Wherever you want."
Oh, that was a dangerous offer.
I lifted both hands to his shoulders and ran my palms down over his chest. My thumbs brushed his nipples and he inhaled sharply. Hmmm, he was sensitive there.
I moved my left hand to his shoulder once again and ran it down his arm, studying the tattoo I'd only gotten a peek of earlier. The design started at the bottom of his pectoral, extending up and over the top of his shoulder and down his arm to stop high on his forearm, just below t
he bend of his elbow.
It was an incredible piece of interlocking gears and mechanical structure. As I looked further, I realized that the beams followed the lines of his skeleton and the gears were in the shape of his muscles.
I traced my tongue over the line of one of the mechanical ribs and Ben shuddered against me.
Suddenly, my feet left the floor and Ben carried me over to the bed.
"My turn," he said, putting me on my feet on top of the mattress. I kicked off my shoes and dropped to my knees on the bed, which was high enough that my position put us nearly face-to-face.
Ben's hands moved from my waist to my ribs, his thumbs tracing the bottom band of my bra. My nipples tightened, aching for more contact but he moved his fingers, trailing them over the shoulder straps and just along the top of the line where the cups of my bra covered my breasts.
Finally, I'd had enough and I took his hand and curved it around my breast. "Touch me," I demanded.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "I was."
I shrugged the straps of my bra off, letting them fall to my elbows. "I want your hands on my skin. Everywhere." In this case, my tendency to say exactly what I was thinking came in handy because the words flew out of my mouth without giving me time to rethink them. I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the floor between us.
"Fuck," he whispered, staring at me with hot hazel eyes.
I gasped when his hands cupped both my breasts and he ran his thumbs over my nipples. His palms and fingers were covered with calluses, giving his touch a roughness that felt amazing against my sensitive flesh.
"More," I demanded, my thoughts automatically emerging from my mouth.
Ben kissed me again, kneading my breasts gently at first then with more firmness. I arched into him as the heat in my belly turned into a sharp ache between my thighs.
I wrapped my arms around him and dug my fingers into his shoulder blades as his mouth moved down my neck. He bent over me, leaning me back onto the bed until I was settled on the mattress with my legs hanging off the side. He put a knee on the mattress between my legs and moved his lips down my sternum to the space between my breasts.
His hand cupped my right breast and his lips closed around my nipple, sucking hard. I couldn't control the sound that escaped my mouth, a mixture of a gasp and a moan, and I arched my back, lifting my breast closer to his lips.
He gave my nipple one last lick before moving to my other breast and giving that nipple the same treatment.
I writhed beneath him, my thighs closing around his where it rested between my legs. "Oh, God," I whispered. The change in position put pressure against my clit and I couldn't control the shiver that shot through me.
Ben lifted his head and I nearly grabbed him by the hair to bring him back to my breasts.
"Are you sure—" he started to ask.
"I'm sure," I interrupted him. I moved my head a little and realized that I was still wearing my beanie. I reached up and removed it, tossing it over the side of the bed. When Ben stayed in position, leaning over me with his fists on the bed next to my ribs, I lowered my hands to the waistband of my leggings and shoved them down. It wasn't until I had them halfway down my thighs that he moved.
I appreciated that he wanted to be sure I was still willing, but couldn't he see that I was burning up? I needed more of him. More of his mouth, his hands, his dick.
Ben curled his fingers around the elastic waist of my leggings and tugged them the rest of the way down my legs. I lifted my feet so he could pull them off. I twisted and shoved my socks off because being naked in socks in front of a hot guy for the first time wasn't on my list of top ten sexy things.
I froze. Mostly because I just remembered that I might not have shaved my legs. Oh, my God. I was about to have sex with an extremely gorgeous guy and I might have sandpaper thighs.
But it was too late to worry about it because his hands closed around my ankles and stroked up to my knees. He didn't recoil in horror or act as if my legs were disgusting so I figured that morning was one of the two days a week I remembered to shave.
Ben stroked up to my inner thighs and moved his leg from the bed. I lifted my head and watched as he toed off his shoes. I sat up completely when his hands left my thighs and went to his belt buckle.
I brushed his fingers to the side when the belt was undone before I unsnapped and unzipped his jeans. A dark trail of hair traveled down from his belly button, disappearing behind a pair of black underwear. I tugged his jeans down and stared at the bulge behind the cotton. The tip of his cock was trapped behind the elastic waistband of his underwear. I wanted to rub my palm over it, but he bent down to strip his jeans and socks off before I could follow through on the thought.
When he straightened, my hands went to his waist and I pulled the boxer briefs down. His dick was thick and hard, pointed upward toward his belly. I couldn't resist touching any longer and I curled my fingers around him. His skin was so soft but solid beneath. The muscles in my belly and between my legs tightened in anticipation.
Ben's hand covered mine before I could stroke him. "Scoot back onto the bed," he said, his voice low and rough.
I never thought I would like it if a man told me what to do in the bedroom, but I followed his order without argument. To my surprise, it was turning me on even more.
Once I settled against the headboard, Ben climbed up onto the bed and prowled toward me. Damn, I'd never had a hot, naked guy crawling for me before, but I definitely wanted it to happen again in my life. More than once or twice. At least ten or twenty might do. Or more.
Ben stopped in front of me and I leaned forward to kiss him again, pulling away before it could get too deep.
"You sit here," I said, gesturing to where I was seated.
He gave me a look, but traded places with me, putting his back against the headboard. I straddled his lap and inhaled sharply when Ben grasped my hips and pulled me forward until the juncture of my thighs met his dick.
"Better?" he asked, putting his lips on my throat.
I let my head fall back so he could nip and lick my neck. "Yes." My hips rocked against his hard length, seeking more friction.
My entire body throbbed as his hands moved from my hips to cup my breasts. He lifted them and took my nipples in his mouth one at a time, sucking hard.
"How sensitive are your nipples?" he asked, rubbing his face against the inner curve of my breast. The rasp of his stubble made me shudder.
"What?" I had no idea what he'd just asked me because my brain was completely fogged with lust.
His forefinger and thumb closed around my left nipple and tugged lightly. "Do you like that?"
I nodded, panting.
"Want it harder?"
I'd never had my nipples pinched like this before, but I was willing to give it a shot. I nodded again.
He squeezed a little tighter and the pleasure was tinged with a bite of pain. Somehow, it felt even better than before.
"More," I whispered, unable to say anything else.
Ben smiled and it was pure sin. He put more pressure on my nipple and I gasped, bucking against him. He released it and closed his lips around my abused areola and suckled.
I moaned, unable to decide if I loved it or it was pure torture.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me now," he muttered against my skin.
I didn't tell him that if he did that again I'd probably come, mostly because I had a feeling that he would do it again and again until I was begging him to stop. That smile when I asked for more told me all I needed to know about the way his mind worked.
His hand moved down my torso until his thumb brushed my clit. Hooded hazel eyes watched me intently as he stroked me.
Well, two could play that game. I shifted back and reached between us, wrapping my hand around his dick. I stared down as I stroked him, unable to take my eyes off the sight. He grew harder in my hand and I licked my lips. Blowjobs weren't usually my favorite thing, but I loved th
e way his body responded to me and I was suddenly dying to know how far I could push him before he exploded.
"Fuck me, that's hot," Ben said.
I looked up and met his eyes.
"You want my dick in your mouth, Sierra?"
I nodded again, unable to form actual words.
His hand closed over mine, removing it from his cock and pulling me closer. When my face was inches from his, he used his other hand to catch my hair and pull me to his mouth.
"Next time," he said just before he kissed me.
I nipped his bottom lip in frustration and he laughed, pulling me back up to straddle his lap.
"Condom," I managed to say as I rocked against him.
"Nightstand, top drawer," he murmured.
I leaned over and pulled the drawer out. The box of condoms was shoved all the way to the back. When I pulled it out, it was sealed. For a guy rumored to get around like a tomcat, I was surprised there was only one box and that it wasn't half empty. Then again, Cam had said he wasn't the man whore some people speculated he was. Maybe she was right after all.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I glanced at the end. "Just checking the date. These things expire, ya know."
Ben grinned and took the box from me, making a show of looking at the flap where the expiration date was printed. "These are good for at least another year."
I laughed as he ripped open the box and pulled out a string of condoms. I tore one off the end, shifting out of reach when he tried to grab it.
"I want to do it," I said, holding it out of his reach.
I tore the packet and pulled the condom out. As I rolled it down over his length, he exhaled hard and let his head fall back against the wall.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
I gave him an experimental squeeze and laughed again when he took my hand off his dick. Then watched, mesmerized, as he ran his own hand down his erection, which gave me all sorts of pornographic ideas.
It was his turn to laugh as he reached his free hand out to pull me closer. He released his dick and slipped his fingers between my legs, sliding right inside me. I tilted my hips forward as he added another finger to the first and thrust them deeper.