And the orgasm explodes.
"Oh my God," I cry, my hips jerking.
It's like my entire body is on fire, and I'm flying apart, and nothing exists except the feeling of his mouth and his hands and the aftershocks ripping through me.
"God, Ben," I gasp, and somehow, I manage to open my eyes.
"That's it," he says, and his voice is hoarse.
He slides his fingers out, and I can't hold his gaze.
My cheeks flush.
His hand strokes over my thigh, and he cups my ass, kneading, the movement possessive.
He kisses the side of my neck.
"Are you okay?" he murmurs.
"Mm," I say. "More than."
His mouth moves up and captures mine softly, a stark contrast to the way he just destroyed me with his fingers and lips.
His kiss is gentle, his tongue soft.
I sigh and melt into him.
His hand strokes my hair, and my skin prickles, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through me.
His cock is hard against my hip, and the realization makes me flush.
"Wait, Ben..." I say, reaching for him.
"Hmm?"
"You didn't—"
He kisses the words away. "There's time," he says.
"But—" I say.
He laughs and pulls back a little. His thumb strokes my cheekbone, and his eyes are warm. "Trust me," he whispers.
I nod, and he presses his forehead to mine.
"Let's just lie here for a minute," he says. "Get your strength back."
My eyes flutter shut, and I nod.
My heart is racing, and the pleasure is still rippling through me.
The heat of his skin, his lips brushing my hairline, the scent of his cologne—they make me feel like we're wrapped in a little bubble.
I don't think anyone has ever fucked me like that and somehow made me feel so special.
It's a dichotomy, but that's exactly how I feel.
Cherished.
