Page 49 of The Destined SEAL
I swallow and eye him from the side. I can’t deny what his hand on my body does to me. A riot of sensations bleeds to the surface—all those things I try not to think about because I knew I’d never have them again, knew no other man could play my body so precisely. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I say, turning in his grasp to meet his lust-filled gaze. “You look like shit, Ben. Being with me isn’t going to help you how you need it to.”
His eyes glass over. “Don’t make me beg,” he whispers, lips barely parted. “For once, don’t overthink it. Do you want me?” What a cruel, unfair question to ask.
A stronger woman would deny him. Tell him to grow up and deal with his emotions like a big boy. A stronger woman would have grabbed this passionate, beautiful man when she could have. A stronger woman wouldn’t have been afraid of the power of the love we shared. “What do you need? Tell me.”
“What I’ve always needed,” he replies.
I set the cold plate of chicken down on the table, all but forgotten.
“We need to talk first,” I reply, my heart hammering in my ears. I want to ease his pain, steal the hurt away from his body as soon as humanly possible despite any hardships in our past. I think I’ll always feel that way. “Can we talk?”
Ben’s weary face hardens. “Everyone wants to talk. Talking doesn’t fix anything, Harp. Please,” he pleads, standing, takingthe sides of my body in his hands. “Please,” he whispers again, voice cracking at the end. “You can fix me. Only you.”
I let him guide me to my bedroom and settle into my bed. When we’re lying down face-to-face, I admit, “I can’t fix you. You know that. You need help. I can talk to you as a friend.” It’s an offer my body rejects. It wants what he’s after. The friendship needs to come first. It’s obvious he’s in pain.
“What if I don’t need a friend right now? What if I never needed you to be my friend? What if right now I need the woman who loves me? A woman who wants to steal away my pain? The woman who promised to love me through this? Fix me.”
His chest is heaving, and the first tear has fallen. Leaning over, I kiss it away, and Ben shudders at the slight contact from my lips. “Yes,” he says. “More. Touch me more.”
I trace my lips across his stubbly face and end with my mouth hovering over his. “This isn’t a good idea,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes. He wants this so bad I can feel it in the air. How desperate he is for our connection. In turn, it makes me delirious with desire.
He pulls me so close, our noses are smashed together. His breathing becomes jagged as he pulls breaths through his mouth. His eyes are closed tightly, the pain of holding himself back twisting his features. He’s taking my oxygen and making it his own. I realize maybe I can fix him by giving myself to him, laying down my life, and my air, for him to bend at his will. I’d do that, and more, to make Ben happy.
Unable to hold out any longer, I kiss him. His whole body comes alive when I slip my tongue into his mouth and wrap my hands around his neck. He groans in complete relief at the contact, and I’m so happy I cry, a small tear leaking down my temple. The hollow, empty place is filling, and I don’t know if it’s just for tonight, but I have to take it regardless of the price.
Ben pins me to the bed with more force than I’m expecting, his hands holding down my forearms. He traces circles with his tongue on my exposed neck and chest as my T-shirt rides up to expose my panties. My whole body prickles with goose bumps, and my stomach flips. I’m so anxious and excited there’s no controlling my reactions. Moans escape as he releases me to slide my underwear down my legs. Sitting up, I take off my shirt, and he makes haste pulling off his clothing. No boxer briefs tonight.
He stares at me from the foot of my bed, chest heaving, eyes heavy, and cock pulsing in preparation.
“Come here, Ben. Let me love you.” I hold out my hands to him.
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 the head of his dick brushing softly against my core, and I move my hips to let him know I’m ready and want him totake 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 its 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.
