Page 60 of Love Under Snowfall

But he knew. And he released her from her torment by sliding a long, searching finger into her, only to curl it and connect with just the right spot. A moan propelled from her, and she quivered and rolled her hips. More, faster, harder, but she couldn’t get actual words to form on her tongue. His translation of her mumbles and gasps led to firmer strokes, and all she could do was grip his thighs and prepare to ride the wave as it came barreling toward her.

Until he stopped and pulled his hand from her leggings.

Her outraged whine had him chuckling as he soothed in her ear, “Not yet, sweetheart.”

He kissed her temple and scooped her into his arms while she squirmed and tried to hold back the growls of her frustration. He’d taken her to the edge and let her dangle, writhing just out of reach of ecstasy. He set her on her feet, steadying her as she wobbled, then strode to her backpack a few feet away. She hummed in realization as he procured the red first aid bag and pulled out a condom.

“I’m glad I noticed these when I helped you bandage your head,” he spoke into her hair then swept the locks back to inspect her little cut. Fortunately, it had been all bark and very little bite.

He dropped the packet on the table beside them and kneeled in front of Frankie. Slowly—inhumanly slowly—Benjamin slid down her leggings, kissing every inch of skin as it was exposed. With the garment discarded, he trailed his fingers up the backs of her ankles and calves, stopping at one knee to lift and settle it over his broad shoulder. The sight of that blue-eyed, raven-haired Adonis laving his tongue up the inside of her thigh and delving into her center was almost more than Frankie could manage. He was beautiful and sexy and so fucking good at what he was doing. She could barely stay on her feet, and so he cupped her ass, holding her in place as he explored and worshiped every inch of her.

The wave surged again, steadily gliding toward her as it loomed off the horizon. She could feel it, practically taste it as it drew nearer and nearer.

Until he stopped. Again . . . he fucking stopped.

Frankie’s heart was going to explode. She pulled at his hair, dug her fingers into the bunched muscles at his shoulder, whimpered, and begged. But all he did was hold her hips mere inches away as he grinned up at her. “Almost.”

Benjamin rose, standing close, crowding her with his size. He slid his palms up her side and tugged her shirt up over her head. As it landed on the floor, he gave her a gentle shove and she had no choice but to plop down onto the chair behind her. Again, he knelt down, meeting his lips to hers. Frankie could taste herself on his tongue, and the recognition was like a shot of morphine-laced adrenaline into her bloodstream. Bliss and fire licked at her skin, a blazing, near-crawling sensation that needed to be satisfied. She’d die if he didn’t let her finish this next time; she’d never been so certain of anything in her entire life.

Frankie reached down and felt the swell of him straining hard against his boxer briefs. He groaned at her touch, thrusting instinctively as she slid her fingers below the waistband and gripped. Benjamin snatched the condom off the table, ripped the packaging open, and slid the sheath into place.

His strong hands pulled hard behind her knees, sliding her so her ass hung off the edge of the seat, the perfect hip level for him to gain access. He knelt there, poised and ready as he teased her with his blunt tip.

“Are you ready for me? Because this time, I won’t stop.”

“Yes,” she whimpered, certain her desperation was loud and on display.

And then he said it. Those two tiny words, when combined, created a question—acorrection—that plagued herfantasies night after night for countless weeks.

“Yes what?” he rumbled, brow cocked, pressing lightly against her entrance but sinking no farther.

Frankie grinned, knees shaking, all too happy to play along. “Yes, Professor Clark.”

His sensual chuckle raked over her in heady sweeps. Then he thrust into her in one firm, solid movement. Her hips bucked and back arched as he pulled out and pushed deeply into her over and over again. She moaned and mewled at the pleasure of him stroking her with his solid strength while gripping her hips for leverage.

“Fuck,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “I couldn’t have imagined . . . fuck. You’re so fucking tight. Goddammit, Francesca. You’re ruining me.”

The filth that curled from his mouth ratcheted up her arousal, and she recalled taunting him about his clean vocabulary. Teased him as she asked if he had ever cursed.

Of course I do. But there are only two very specific times, and you haven’t been privy to either.

Oh, she had now.

She’d heard him through the haze after colliding with the boulder at the bottom of the valley. His panicked tone sliced the words into more than just their syllables. He’d been worried, scared for her. And now, as he tended to her needs, yet again, while also succumbing to his own desires. He swore all right, any time he let baser instincts possess him, bullying his sense of propriety to stand aside.

Benjamin dug his fingers firmly into the flesh of her hip as his thrusts became fevered, erratic. Frankie could feel the imposing pressure of release lingering back, waiting to be denied yet again. She met his eyes, and he grinned.

“I need to,” she whimpered.

He slid a hand up her waist, chest, and neck then settled a thumb on her lower lip. She nipped at it then pulled it into her mouth and sucked. He moaned low in his throat.

“You don’t want me to deny you again?”

She shook her head even as she felt the dip of low tide expose everything: desire, desperation, frustration. “Please. Please.”

“Give me one more,” he crooned, his smile dark and feral.

“Please.”

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