Page 80 of Off Script
“Please what, baby?"
He's toying with me, but I don't care. “I need you. Fuck me. Now, Ben!” My head falls back against the pillow as he slams into me with one harsh, beautiful motion. My eyes flutter closed at the pleasure of having him inside me. I wrap my legs around his hips as he withdraws and then fills me again and again. My hand grasps his ass, and I feel him flex with each thrust.
Propping himself up on his arms, he raises his body above mine and brings one of my knees to rest over his arm. I watch Ben as he bites his lip and looks down to where our bodies are conjoined.
“Fuck, it’s so hot to see myself disappear inside you,” he growls. “You take me in so well, baby.”
The new position makes him sink into me even deeper and I whimper at the deliciousness as he nudges my g-spot with each thrust. Ben fucks me slowly, wringing every last drop of pleasure from my body until I nearly convulse.
“Touch yourself. Put those pretty fingers to your clit and let me feel your pussy strangle my dick, Carlisle.”
His dirty words are so hot that I almost orgasm on the spot and I feel a riotous blush cross my cheeks. I follow his command and rub circles over my slippery clit and within seconds, my body starts to clench and coil around Ben. My whimpers morph into a muffled scream and my back bows off the bed as my climax plows through me.
“Shit, Carlisle, I lo—”
There it is again. That almost admission.
But before he can finish his statement, Ben throws back his head, driving into me with a ferociousness I haven’t felt before and then he comes with an animalistic roar. Ben slumps on top of me, like a sexed up weighted blanket.
The following morning, I awaken slowly, feeling sluggish and deliciously sore. I rub my thighs together, remembering our decadent middle of the night lovemaking, already wanting him again.
Rolling over, I glance at the clock on the bedside table and gasp. Ben’s ride to the airport will be picking him up soon. I can’t believe he let me sleep so late!
Jumping out of bed, I grab the hotel robe and throw it on to cover my nakedness and then I set out to find my boyfriend. Hearing his voice, I follow the sound and find him on the balcony leaning against the railing and talking quietly on the phone. When he sees me, a large smile appears, and my heart beats double-time.
I have it so bad for this man.
“Got it, Becky. I know… I said, I know. Look, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you later,” he says hurriedly before tossing his cell phone onto thepatio table and holding out his arms. “Come here, babe.” Engulfing me in a hug, Ben rests his head upon mine. “I’m glad you’re up.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I only woke up a few minutes before you did, and you looked so serene sleeping that I didn’t have it in me to wake you. I probably should have though since we don’t have much time left.” He clasps my face with his palms. “I’m going to miss you so damn much.”
“Me too, Ben.”
“These few weeks are going to be insane for me. I’ll call and text when I can, but it’ll probably be at odd hours because of the time difference.”
“That’s okay. I understand. I’ll be happy to hear from you regardless of the time.”
“If you feel anxious, please reach out. If I can’t answer, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Seriously, I’ll be fine,” I reassure him. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I do worry about you, babe.”
He does. I know he does. I see the concern in his eyes now as he searches my face, and I’ve seen it countless times over the past weeks. Honestly, I am worried about how I’ll feel when he’s away. I’ve spent the last week avoiding thinking about Ben leaving. Anytime a thought about the showmance or promotional tour would pop into my mind, I pushed it aside. What lies before us will be difficult and I didn’t see the purpose in dwelling on it.
But now that Ben’s time of departure is upon us, I second guess my process. Perhaps if I’d better mentally prepared myself, it wouldn’t hurt so much right now. Absently, I rub at my breastbone, hoping to alleviate the pangs I feel in my chest.
An intense expression flits across Ben’s face. “When I’m gone, you’re more than welcome to stay at my house. I had Jo make a key foryou. In a weird way, it’ll make me feel closer to you knowing you’re there, but I'd understand if you’re more comfortable at your condo.” He fishes a key out of the pocket of his sweatpants and places it in my hand.
The metal, warmed from his body, signifies something important between us, and I clasp it tightly. It represents a tangible sign of his feelings and the trust in me, and with it, the pains in my chest abate.
My relief is short-lived though.
“Feel free to use any of my cars too. You know where the keys are. Just be careful when you’re coming and going. There shouldn’t be any paparazzi loitering around my house since it’s common knowledge that I’ll be abroad, but you never know.” He grimaces and gestures towards his cell phone. “That was what that call with Becky was about. She’s not pleased that I never asked you to sign an NDA, so she wanted to make sure that you know the score… that you know to stay quiet about our relationship. The photos that popped up from our dinner date at Le Bistro still have the studio on edge. If you’re linked to me in any way, it would be disastrous.” He pauses. “Her words, not mine, by the way.”
Stepping out of Ben’s arms, I feel the sting of hurt and humiliation.
