Enemies with Benefits: A Real Man

by Snow, Jenika

  I inhaled and then exhaled just as slowly, knowing this was why I’d come here tonight, to finally be honest and truthful. But I was scared shitless—the first time in my life I’d ever felt real fear. And it was because I worried she’d deny me, that she’d tell me I’d been wrong, that she didn’t feel a fraction of the way I felt about her.

  But I wouldn’t know unless I tried, right? I wouldn’t know unless I ripped open my chest and presented her my heart, hoping she didn’t destroy it with a few spoken words.

  And she could. She could render me weak, because she didn’t know it, but Delilah had so much power over me.

  I shifted on the couch so I could face her a little bit more. She was still looking at me, her cheeks flushed, her body still reacting in the way that made me think she was aroused, that my very presence turned her on.

  “Yeah, I meant what I said.” Those words hung between us for long moments. I was afraid to say anything else, that I’d scare her away. “I meant that a hell of a fucking lot, Delilah.”

  She sucked in a breath and sat up slightly, the long fall of her hair moving over her shoulders. My fingers itched to reach out and take hold of some of the strands, to rub them between my fingers and see if they were as soft as they looked.

  And I had no doubt they were. Like spun silk.

  “Why?” She didn’t have to emphasize what she meant.

  We bickered back and forth. We always had. I got under her skin, annoyed her. I nitpicked, teased her. She got pissed at me and pushed back, her anger gasoline on my fiery arousal, burning me alive.

  Because I love you.

  Those words bounced around in my head over and over again, but they refused to come out. They refused to hang in the air between us like all the rest of the words that had spilled out of my mouth.

  “Because you mean a lot to me. You mean the most to me,” I said softer this time and stared into her eyes. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Delilah.” I’d never spoken truer words out loud. And although they weren’t anywhere near how deep my feelings for her went, they were a start.

  She was a goddess. She was beautiful and perfect. Delilah was mine even though she didn’t know it, even though I’d never even touched her in the way I yearned to.

  We stared at each other, the air thickening between us, my heart pounding so hard I had no doubt she probably heard it, maybe even saw my shirt move from the rapid beat of that organ against my ribs.

  There was something shifting in the air, something that called to the most basic, primal—male—part of me.

  I was male.

  She was female.

  And I wanted her desperately. And as I felt myself move closer, my nostrils flaring in approval as I watched her move closer too, I held my breath, knowing what we were about to do might very well be crossing lines that could never be uncrossed.

  But I didn’t care, because nothing had ever felt as right as this moment with Delilah.

  8

  Delilah

  He was going to kiss me.

  And I was leaning in, ready to accept it.

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. I was drowning, free falling, nothing for me to hold onto, nothing to catch me. And I’d never wanted to plummet into the abyss more than I did right now. Right in Mal’s arms.

  We stood at this precipice, only inches separating our mouths, both of us breathing the same air, everything in me so attuned to this boy all I felt, heard, saw was him.

  We were at this standstill, and I hated it, so I did something to rectify the situation.

  I moved that last inch that separated us, my thigh brushing against his. Every part of my body tingled in a way that made me weak and breathless. But before I could touch him, kiss him, beg him to take me to my room and part my thighs like I’d fantasized for far too long, Mal lifted his hand and brushed his thumb along my bottom lip.

  My mouth opened on its own, as if I had no control over the act. Every part of my body tingled as I stared at him, as I felt him brushing the pad back and forth in a calming, gentle sweep along the ultra-sensitive flesh of my mouth.

  His focus was trained on what he did, his eyes hooded in something that couldn’t be called anything but lust.

  “Delilah.” My name, a strangled groan from his lips. I sighed in pleasure, my body warming. Softening for him. “Did you drink tonight?” His words were so gruff and harsh, so very masculine.

  I blinked a few times to try to clear my head as his words penetrated my brain. “A swig from my father's whiskey.” The words were nothing more than a moan.

  Mal closed his eyes, a shiver wracking his big body. “Are you drunk?” He opened his eyes, and I shook my head.

  “No,” I whimpered as a shot of lust slammed into me so unexpectedly that if I had been standing, I would have fallen over.

  I wasn’t drunk, not in the slightest. But I felt good. I felt courageous as I placed a hand on his muscular thigh and felt him tense beneath me. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought more clearly, Mal.” And that was the truth.

  And then Mal had his mouth on mine. The groan that spilled from him sounded so deep and… hungry.

  My chest was to his, my breasts against the hard planes of his muscles. I was drowning in the way he made me feel.

  I was so wet, my panties saturated from my rising arousal. All I wanted to do was tell him, to let him know I was so ready for him.

  “Maybe I should stop,” he said right after he broke the kiss, severed the connection.

  I licked my lips, tasting the spicy, male flavor that covered my mouth. “I don’t want you to stop.” I slid my other hand over his bicep, the muscles so defined, so very male. “I want you, Mal. So bad,” I whispered, knowing the shot was what made me feel so bold to admit any of this.

  Mal groaned and closed his eyes, his jaw clenched tight, the strain on his face akin to pain. But I knew he was keyed up just like me.

  “Jesus,” he gritted out right before he gripped my hips and hauled me up onto his lap.

  I straddled him, my legs on either side of his big body. A gasp left me at the feel of him. All hard planes against my soft curves.

  I saw something flicker in his eyes right before a storm of desire washed over him. The thick length wedged between us, only separated from me by his jeans and my pajama pants, gave a mighty jerk. I gasped then moaned at the sensation.

  He ran his hands along my waist, up my sides, and I felt him tease the edges of my breasts. I was braless, and I felt my nipples poking through the too thin shirt covering them.

  His lips slammed down on mine again, and I felt all the built-up passion and desire he had for me. I felt my panties rub along my too-swollen pussy lips. Slowly, Mal lifted his hips, grinding his cock against me, pressing my pants and panties harder against the sensitive flesh of my pussy.

  I was so lost in my need, in the way he kept lifting his hips up, letting me feel how hard and big he was for me, because of me. I didn’t care if I begged for it, didn’t care at this point if I sounded pathetic. I fantasized about this so many times, and it was right here… my reality.

  He shoved up against me harder this time, and I let out this little mewl. I could have orgasmed from that feeling alone, from the way his jean-clad cock pushed against my body. I felt frenzied, so not like my prim and proper self that was wholly inexperienced in any of this sexual stuff. But with Mal, I felt free. I felt like he wanted me unhinged, wanted me to just let go and give him every single part of me.

  And I wanted that.

  I may not be drunk, but the alcohol sure had lowered my reservations and inhibitions.

  And I welcomed it.

  I wanted to go all the way.

  “Mal,” I whisper-moaned his name, and he growled against my mouth. His hands were on my waist, his fingers digging into my body.

  “Jesus, what are we doing?” His words were muffled as he latched his mouth on my throat and started sucking.

  “Do you want t
o stop?” Please, God. Please say no. I was burning alive, and he was the only thing that could put me out.

  “Fuck. No.” Those words were nothing but a harsh groan against the side of my throat. “Do you?” I felt the way his hands tightened on my body, as if he too worried I’d say no.

  I pulled back, the latch of his mouth on my skin coming undone as he looked at me. His eyes were hooded, his mouth glossy and red from how fiercely we’d been kissing. I loved this boy, loved him with a passion that scared the shit out of me, but also made me feel stronger than I’d ever felt.

  “No,” I whispered. “I never want to stop.” Normally, I would have felt embarrassed for saying something so real, but right now, I felt like there were no walls up between us. He wanted me. I wanted him. And I needed to see how far we could take this. “I want you, so have me, Mal.”

  He slammed his mouth against mine and growled against my lips. He had a hand gripping my nape, keeping me right where he wanted me.

  With shaky hands, I gripped the bottom of his shirt. He tensed for only a second then broke the kiss to remove the cotton and toss it aside. Then his mouth was right back on mine. I had my hands on his warm chest, his skin firm, the definition of his masculine muscles causing my pussy to become even wetter.

  I wanted him to feel as hot as I was, because I felt like I was burning alive.

  I was the one to break the kiss now, but he must have known what I wanted, because before I knew it, he was all but ripping my shirt from my body and tossing it to the ground with his. On instinct, I lifted my arms and covered myself. I’d never let anyone see this part of me, and my cheeks felt hot as embarrassment slammed into me.

  “Don’t hide from me, never from me,” he murmured and gently pulled my arms away. The air was chilly, and I felt my nipples harden even more. He groaned at that, as if it turned him on even more to see them tighten. “Perfect, just like I fucking imagined.” He lifted his gaze from my chest. “Better than I could ever imagine.” God, he was breathing so hard. “Let me touch you. I need to touch you.” That last part was said as if he were in pain, as if the only thing that could sate him was to put his hands on me.

  I didn’t respond verbally, just arched my back and pressed my chest to him, giving him a silent approval that I needed that too.

  And when he finally placed his massive, warm, and very male hands on me, I let my head tip back and moaned at the feeling. My breasts weren’t small, but they felt so tiny in his palms. I felt my nipples pucker up even more, the tips so hard they ached.

  “God. You’re so soft, so warm.”

  I managed to lift my head and open my eyes just as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against my chest, his brown hair soft as silk against my bare skin. He did nothing but hold one of my breasts, his warm breath making my flesh tingle. I was vaguely aware of him moving his mouth to the side, closer to my nipple, so close I felt that hot, panting humidity bathe the little peak as he moved his hand aside.

  “Mal,” I said so softly I didn’t know if he even heard me, or if I said his name in my head.

  “Delilah,” he whispered harshly, his body positively shaking right now.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, smoothing my hands over his warm, firm skin. “More, Mal. Please.” I was wild in my desire for him, not worrying about repercussions that might happen with us being together. And then I felt it.

  His mouth on my nipple, his tongue lapping at my flesh, the muscle dragging over the peak. A startled, pleasure-filled groan left me, and I curled my nails into his flesh reflexively. He hissed, and I loosened my hold.

  “No. More, Delilah. More,” he murmured against my breast and went back to licking and sucking at me, dragging his teeth and tongue over the peak over and over again.

  I realized I was wantonly grinding myself against his massive erection. He made this low, animal-like sound deep within his throat, the sound spearing through my nipple and vibrating all the way down to my clit.

  And then his hands were on my hips, guiding me, aiding me in moving back and forth against him, sliding my pussy on his length, working myself up to a fever pitch. My panties were wedged between my soaked slit by this time, the material of the underwear and pants so thin I swore I felt him throb beneath me.

  “God, Mal. I feel….” I closed my eyes and let myself go, let myself feel the way he sucked at my nipple at the same time he rocked me back and forth on him. He did great pulls and draws on the sensitive tissue, and I opened my mouth, a breath escaping so fast and harsh I felt lightheaded.

  “Come on, baby.”

  I snapped my eyes open and stared at the ceiling as something tightened in my body. It started at my toes, rising higher and higher until I’d never be able to slow it down or stop it. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, and when that power in me finally exploded, I bore down on Mal and really worked myself over on him.

  Back and forth. Back and forth. Hard and fast as I exploded into a million little pieces right before him.

  And all the while, he licked at my breasts, alternating between my nipples, urging me on with murmured words of encouragement against my now sensitive, swollen, and damp flesh.

  “So good, Delilah.”

  “I’ll never get enough.”

  “I want more.”

  “You’re mine.”

  I collapsed against him, my head resting on his shoulder, my eyes closed, my breathing frantic. I felt him smooth his hands over the bare skin of my sides, lazy strokes that told me he wasn’t in any hurry.

  When I pulled back, I saw the way his expression became more aroused as he searched my face. I could only imagine what I looked like, all post-orgasmic high. He lifted his hand and gently smoothed his thumb over the spot on my bottom lip I’d bit, then he leaned forward, cupping the back of my head, and kissed me gently, sweetly. But all that did was wind me up even more, and I gripped his shoulders and pulled him in closer.

  I felt his surprise by my boldness, but I didn’t care. I wanted more of him, and I knew he wouldn’t deny me.

  9

  Delilah

  Before I could chicken out, I climbed off him, but I could see on his face he knew I wasn’t stopping this. I started for the waistband of my pants, but he made a gruff sound and shook his head slowly, his expression taking on a very predatory quality, one that had my inner muscles clenching in dark desire.

  He hooked his fingers under the elastic around my waist. He held my eyes with his as he slowly pulled the material down. I couldn’t move, not as he pushed them down and down and down until they pooled at my feet, and instinctively, I stepped out of them. Then there I was, standing in my panties and nothing else, the scent of my arousal strong enough I felt my face heat in embarrassment.

  He growled low and gripped my hips, pulling me closer to him. He still sat on the couch while I stood there, his hands gripping and releasing my flesh, never letting go.

  “Come closer,” he growled, and I moved that last inch that separated us, the tips of my toes brushing up against the bottom of the couch. He tipped his head back and stared up at me then slowly slid his hands behind so his big palms could curve over the mounds of my ass. A small breath left me at the contact.

  Without breaking eye contact, Mal leaned forward and rested his forehead on my flat belly, his skin warm, his body so big that even in this position, I looked so tiny compared to him. And then it happened.

  He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of my arousal. The sound that left him was almost distorted. He gripped the back of one of my legs and lifted it so my foot rested on the cushion beside his thigh. He smoothed his fingers along my thigh, down to my calf, and repeated the action over and over.

  “You smell better than anything I could ever imagine.” He moved his head lower, and I held my breath as I realized what he was going to do, where he was headed. “So good that you make my mouth water for a taste.” He looked up at me then, his hand moving slowly toward the crease where my thigh met my pussy. He focused on t
he most sensitive part of me again, the one barely covered by a thin layer of cotton, and then his face was between my thighs, his mouth and nose running up and down the slit.

  I let my head fall back as I exhaled through the sharp sting of pleasure that slammed into me. He made these gruff, inhuman noises deep in the back of his throat, one that had vibrations spearing right to my clit. He moved his mouth over me, back and forth, up and down, following the trail with his tongue, inhaling sharply, constantly, as if he couldn’t get enough of my scent. I should have felt embarrassment, mortification that he was right there, but God, all I felt was desire.

  And then he started working his mouth over my clit. The underwear dimmed some of the sensation, but not enough that I didn’t feel myself start to spiral out of control. And when he slid his hands along my inner thighs, framing my pussy, tugging at the edge of my panties then bringing them inward so the material was wedged between my pussy lips, I exploded for him.

  I was vaguely aware of the moan that left me, knew I was grinding myself against his face. And all the while, he hummed in approval. He stroked his thumbs along my exposed lips, murmured how good this felt for him. I was lost in the sensations, the high I felt, the pleasure moving through me the likes of which I’d never experienced before.

  And only when I felt my body relax, the orgasm start to fade, only then did Mal lean back, breaking the connection so swiftly I sagged, thankful I had the strength to hold myself up. I lifted my head and stared at him with what I knew were post-euphoric hooded eyes. My face felt warm, and I had no doubt my cheeks were blushed from the orgasm. And my lips… they were parted as I panted.

  And I wanted more.

  “You want more?” he asked as if he read my mind.

  I could only nod, not trusting my voice.

  He smirked, one that was filled with so much sexual promise. Mal leaned back on the couch, and my gaze went straight to the crotch of his pants. My throat tightened as I saw the long, thick length of his cock laying against his thigh, pushing at the denim so fiercely I wondered if it would tear right through.