Page 51 of Blame It On Midnight

“Fuck. Me.”

His voice made her smile, and she tipped her head back and to the side. There was a full-length mirror behind the chair, and she saw him there. His eyes glittered. Twin flames of dark coal. His face was full of want and lust and a bunch of other things that made her squirm. Collins turned to face him.

“You might want to close the door.”

Benton kicked at it. Neither one flinched when it banged shut. “Done.”

“Take off your clothes.”

He attempted a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. She noted the large bulge between his legs. That couldn’t be comfortable.

“Keep touching yourself, and I might think about it.”

She smiled, liking this game, and slid her hands over her breasts, then down her body until she sank them between her legs. Slowly, she began to caress and rub and apply pressure. She placed her right foot on the edge of the chair so he could see better, and her smile widened when he swore and yanked off his shirt. Buttons flew. He hadn’t bothered to undo them.

His eyes were focused on what her hand was doing, and when he stepped out of his jeans, he was hard. Erect. And so fucking beautiful.

He took a step toward her, but she shook her head. “Watch.” She maneuvered her body even more, opened her legs wider, and applied more pressure. Caressed harder. The pressure was building inside, that knot of tension that balled like a fist.

“I’m going to come,” she said, eyes closed. “Are you watching?”

He answered with a grunt.

She increased her rhythm, her fingers slick with juice, and just as the knot inside her exploded, his mouth replaced her fingers.

“Oh God.” She held his head in place while Benton lapped at her. Used his teeth and tongue to stretch out the kind of orgasm she’d only read about. It was big and hot and intense. “Jesus,” she gasped, her orgasm hard and sharp and soft and so pleasurable she saw stars. Literal. Stars.

Blinking rapidly, she looked down at Benton. His face was pure, unadulterated hunger. And need. It was want and ownership, and giving, and so incredibly hot, she orgasmed again.

She would have fallen if not for him holding onto her hips, and several minutes later, when she caught her breath, when her body was infused with oxygen and strength, she pushed away and moved on unsteady legs.

“Lie down on the bed.” Her voice sounded alien. Velvet over gravel.

Benton fell back onto the bed. His erection was huge. It teased her as she climbed up beside him. Pressed her mouth to his and kissed him with all the feeling and emotion she had. This was truth and joy. It was love. She kissed him until her head spun. Until he swore and grunted like an animal because he was so heavy with need.

Then she smiled wickedly and traced kisses down his chest. Then his abdomen. His hands were fisted at his side and he inhaled sharply when she kissed the length of his cock. She was about to do something she normally didn’t do. Had never enjoyed to be honest. Blowjobs had never been her thing. But with Benton, she wanted to do all the things that would drive him as crazy as he made her. She wanted to taste him. To take him in her mouth and use all the tools she had to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her.

So she did.

When his hands crept into her hair, she smiled and took him deeper. Her tongue and mouth, and hands were relentless. And it didn’t take long for him to stiffen.

“I can’t hold back,” he muttered, trying to withdraw.

She held him firm. Smiled up at him. “Then don’t.”

Collins used her mouth until there was nothing left for Benton to give. And it took some for them to recover. Long, quiet moments of hands caressing, holding, touching. Finally, after a trip to the washroom, she slid up beside him and nipped at his jaw. “That was…”

He looked down at her. His face, beautiful and wicked. “Only the beginning. We’ve got all night.”

Benton rolled over and kissed her with the kind of hunger she felt deep in her bones. Then he kissed her again, this time sweetly. Fervently. Then he got to work on other things. Her breasts in particular. Then her neck—that spot behind her ear. The hot mess between her legs. And when the two of them came together again, their bodies slick with sweat, she had to scream into a pillow because her soul was shattered. She was spent. Lethargic.

In that moment, she knew she’d never experience this with anyone else. It wasn’t just about love anymore. It was about belonging. Fate. And as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder about the future.

What if Benton didn’t feel as deeply as she did? What if she were just the young sidepiece, most folks thought. Would she survive that? Did it matter?

I guess not, she thought. I’m in it now.

Chapter Eighteen

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