His eyes turn down in the corner. Sadly, he shakes his head, his brows pulling together. “That’s not what I need,” he whispers, licking his lips.
I nod, understanding. Swallowing hard, I reply, “Fuck me. Right now. Fuck me.”
Crawling up the bed, he rests his head in between my legs. It’s not a soft, light, feather touch. His tongue and mouth are rough. At this point in my sabbatical, it doesn’t matter. Ben’s face is pressed against me and it’s more than enough to have my pussy throbbing out a love song of wetness and lust. He doesn’t want love, and maybe I don’t either.
I’m about to come, and I scream it to the heavens to let them know, too. Ben doesn’t let me. He wipes his mouth on my inner thigh and then drags his lips and mouth up the side of my body. He kisses the side of my breast, moves his tongue over my nipple, and trails the kiss up the front of my neck.
“This neck,” he moans out, moving his kiss back down again.
I arch my chin to the ceiling and relish the sensations.
I can feel his dick head brushing softly against my core and I move my hips to let him know I’m ready and want him to take me. Ben is kissing and licking every inch of surface on my neck. He’s taking it slower than I thought he would. His eyes are closed as if he’s relishing every second. It hurts my heart to see him like this. I want to give him what he needs. My body at his disposal—for him to lose himself in something familiar, something steadfast, a body filled with life.
Leaning up, he lays a palm, fingers spread wide across my chest, and says, “Your heart is beating so fast.” He swallows hard, feeling my heartbeat.
I laugh a little. “You make me excitable,” I reply. “You should finish what you started.”
Ben replaces his hand with his ear, leaning his head down to listen instead, a complete change of pace. “I’m talking to you, heart,” he says, smiling. “I’m gonna give you something to really beat about.”
“Do it,” I say, smirking when he meets my eyes.
He’s back for a second. My Ben. Then he enters me in one, hard thrust and he’s lost in an entirely different way. He kisses me every so often, but it’s rough juts and feral shouts, anger fluidly swallowed by terror and rage.
I can’t even hang on to his shoulders, it’s so rough. It’s not pleasurable for me and I think he’s forgotten I’m even in the room with him. Leaning back on his knees, he pulls my hips to him instead of thrusting. He fills me over and over and I think he’s trying to fill me with everything he’s trying to get rid of. He looks up at the ceiling as he pulls me onto his cock at a furious pace. I clutch at the sheets and try to keep myself in place. I keep my eyes closed. There’s no need to see Ben right now, because this isn’t my Ben anymore. He pulls me all the way onto him and comes. Ben screams out. It’s a cry of anguish.
My whole body is tense when he pulls out. I don’t dare open my eyes. I listen to his harried breaths mixing with my soft whimpers. More tears come as I try to squelch the tightness in my chest, the hurt he’s caused.
“Harper,” he says.
I hear the apology in my name.
He’s looking away from me when I open my eyes and sit up. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wipe another tear away lest he see what he’s caused. He sobs and retreats to my bathroom.
I scoot off the bed, sore and terrified of what just happened, and walk in behind him. Ben is bent over the counter, forearms pressing on the granite, the ultimate picture of male prowess. Naked, stunning, muscles coiled, and chest heaving. He’s also a man completely destroyed. A stray delicate petal on a steel flower.
“Fuck,” Ben hisses. “I’m fucked up, Harper. So fucked up.”
I stay silent, but stand next to him, the mirror reflecting our images in an unfamiliar way. Ben meets my eyes in the mirror. “How many times have I transfixed your face on Norah? At least a million. Only the times when it matters? When I was fucking her? Definitely when I was marrying her. When it counts? This is my punishment from Norah after death. Seeing her sad, second-best face anytime you’re in front of me.” The man I love transforms into a ghost.
“Oh my God,” I sob. “I can’t do this. You shouldn’t have come here, Ben. I love you. I do,” I whisper, grabbing his arm. His gaze darts to where our skin meets in the reflection. “I’m not sure we can get over this. Or you need more time. This is breaking my heart. Fucking me isn’t going to bring back your dead wife. I won’t do that for you and I’ll do a lot.”
One side of his mouth quirks up. “The heartbreak club. At least we’ll be in it together. Fucking you helps me. It does. It’s the only thing I can think of.”
My stomach roils as my heart splinters.
I point to my bed. “I’ll never do that with you again. That’s a promise. I’m not some toy.” Swallowing hard, I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling too exposed.
“I need to go,” Ben says, brushing past me to get his clothes. “I’m sorry. I am. This was a mistake. I’m a weak bastard.” Shaking his head, he does look remorseful. He doesn’t apologize for using my body as a Norah vessel and the thought makes me shiver. “I’m out of my mind.” He mutters under his breath, something about how he can’t believe what he’s done and how he needs to shackle himself to his house.
I grab my T-shirt from the floor and notice the bloody, mangled sheets.
“Can we forget tonight even happened?” he asks, finally speaking loud enough for me to hear each word. I can tell he’s not going to try to convince me of his point of view, like my Ben would. He’s going to ask this of me.
“You’d ask that of me?” I ask, biting my lip to stifle tears.
He sighs. “My best friendwouldforget.”
When he gets to the front of my house, I open the door for him. “Maybe I can’t be your best friend and your fuck buddy at the same time. You said you didn’t need a friend. You didn’t need that version of me.” I stifle a hiccupped sob and pinch my lips together. “I’ll forget more than tonight. That’s a promise,” I reply, shutting the door in his sad, haggard face.
