“With the right woman, yes.” He tilts his head to the side. “Do you?”
“I’ve always wanted children,” I admit. “But I have to tell you, before we take this any further, that I can’t have kids.”
He swallows hard. “Okay. Why?”
I frown.
“You might as well tell me the whole story,” he says and stands so he can pick me up and set me on the couch next to him. “And I want you next to me while you do.”
“I’m not going to tell you everything.” I shake my head when he would argue and take his hand in mine. “Trust me when I tell you, you don’t want it all in your head. It’s in the past, and I’m so good now, Ben. I can’t give him any more power by telling you everything that happened.
“But this part is important because although I know it’s still early, it could potentially affect you too, and just like you gave me the freedom to choose this with you, I have to give that back to you.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’m all ears.”
I take a deep breath.
“I can’t have babies. Ever.” I have to pause to find the right words. “I was beaten so severely that he destroyed my ovaries and they had to be removed. I had to have a full hysterectomy.”
I risk looking up into his face and what I find there makes me catch my breath.
He has tears in his eyes.
“I don’t have to tell you any more.”
“Yes, you do.” He leans over and kisses me softly. “But only as much as you want.”
“Well, that really explains the physiology of it. It wasn’t just one beating, but many over the span of a few years that did irreparable damage. My doctor found it during a routine physical, and suggested I had it all removed before it could become infected or worse.
“So, I did.” I shrug. “And I needed you to know because if we keep going down this path, and it leads to something permanent later on, you have to know in advance that we could never have children.”
“Well, not biological ones anyway. There are plenty of children out there that need a family.”
“I’ve never considered adoption.”
“You should,” he says. “No matter who you end up with, you should know that that’s an option for you. And as far as I’m concerned, well, I am not willing to walk away from you, Savannah. There’s not much you could say to make me go.”
A sigh of relief runs through me. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He pulls me back into his lap. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Angel.”
“It’s over.” I pull back and look into his face. “You never told me why you call me Angel.”
His lips turn up into a smile.
“Because when I was lying in bed, about to die, you were hovering over me and I could have sworn you were an angel.”
“I’m not.” I kiss his cheek. “An angel.”
“You’re as close as I’ll ever get to one,” he replies. “Do you feel up to a game of pool?”
“I don’t know how to play pool.”
He stands with me still in his arms.
“I love how strong you are.”
“And I love how strong you are,” he replies. “You’re the strongest person I know, Savannah, and it’s a privilege to be with you.”
“Don’t get sappy on me, Mr. Preston.”
“Fine. I’ll teach you how to play pool instead, Ms. Boudreaux.”
I smile, holding onto him and enjoying the feel of his arms around me. “Deal.”
Chapter Nine
~Savannah~
“Hold it like this,” Ben says. He’s pushed up behind me, leaning over me. We’re stretched over the table, and let’s be honest, I’m not at all focused on getting this green ball in the corner pocket.
I’m focused on Ben’s crotch pressed against my ass. His chest pressed to my back.
His lips whispering in my ear.
I’ve never had sex on a pool table before, and now seems like a great time to start.
I lick my lips and aim for the ball, as Ben guides my arm in slow motions. I strike, and the ball misses, bouncing around the table.
“I don’t think you’re a great teacher,” I say as we both stand up. I already miss the heat of him against me.
“I don’t think you’re paying attention,” he replies, leaning on the cue, and not backing away. So I boost myself up and sit on the edge of the table, gathering Ben’s shirt in my fists at his hips.
“Oh, I’m paying attention.” I grin as he lets the cue fall to the tabletop and plants his hands on the table at my hips, leaning in to kiss me.
“Are you really in the mood to play pool?” he asks against my lips.
“I don’t think so.” I tug his shirt up and let my hands explore his warm, smooth skin.
“Angel, I need to be sure that you’re sure about this,” he says, holding my face in his hands and pinning me in his ice-blue stare.
“I’m sure.”
“I’m going to take this very slowly.”
“Because you’re trying to torture me?” I grin and bite his lip.
“No, smart ass, because I’ve dreamed about this for years, and because I want to make sure that you feel safe.”
“I’ve never felt safer in my life than I do when I’m with you, Ben.” I take his hand and place it over my heart. “I love you. I trust you implicitly, and I want you.”
His eyes close as if in relief for a millisecond, and the next thing I know, he’s lifted me and is carrying me toward the bedroom.
“No pool table sex?”
He stops cold and stares at me in surprise. “Do you want to have pool table sex?”
“Well, it sounds like it could be fun.”
He laughs and carries me the rest of the way to his bedroom.
“Then pool table sex we shall have, beautiful lady. But not this time. This time, I want you in my bed. I want your scent on my sheets. I want to see the moonlight on your gorgeous skin as we lie here and worship each other.”
“Wow. I had no idea you were a poet.” I smile sweetly, but then he shocks the hell out of me and whips his shirt right over his head. “God, Ben, you’re just ridiculous.”
His lips twitch. “Now it’s your turn.” He grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it slowly. I raise my arms over my head and when it’s off, he lets it fall to the floor. His eyes are still pinned to mine, and then they very deliberately travel down my neck, to my chest and my stomach. “Beautiful.”
You haven’t seen the stomach pooch yet.
But I don’t say it out loud because no man wants his girl to start talking shit about herself when they’re about to make love. It’s not sexy at all.
I reach out to unfasten his jeans. He watches me patiently, his hands hanging at his sides, as I pull them down his hips and legs. I crouch next to him, helping him step out of them. Before I stand back up, I take my time kissing his strong thighs. He has a light dusting of hair that feels good against my lips.
He’s just in his tight boxer briefs now. They’re black, and they cling in the most delicious way. He’s clearly aroused, so I lean in and press a kiss over the cotton of his shorts.
“Oh no,” he says, guiding me back to my feet. “You have to catch up.”
“You catch me up,” I reply, making him smile. His fingers make quick work of my jeans, and he copies my move of squatting before me, tugging them down my legs. I brace myself on his shoulder as I step out of them.
And then, praise the Lord above, he presses a kiss to my thigh, mirroring my movements.
Holy shit, he’s going to kiss me there.
And he does. His lips are firm as he kisses me over my pink cotton panties, and then he stands again, gazing happily down at me.
We’re standing here, in our underwear, just staring at each other. It might be the most intimate moment of my life.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers. He reaches out to trace my bra strap down to the top of the cup. “Every part of me wants to take you fa
st and hard, but I must admit, this is amazing.”
I nod and step closer to him, pressing my belly against his hard on.
“You didn’t get your tattoo,” he says.
“Not yet. You got sick, so I postponed.”
He kisses my forehead.
“I need to tell you,” he says, as his hands travel over my skin, sending zings of electricity all over me. It’s hard to keep my eyes open. I feel drunk.
And he’s just getting started.
Dear, sweet Jesus, I might not survive this.
“What do you need to tell me?” I whisper.
“You’re amazing, Savannah.” He presses his lips ever so gently to the soft skin below my ear. “You’re the most fantastic person I’ve ever known in my life, and I love you so much my body aches with it.”
“Ben,” I whisper, completely mesmerized by him.
His hands glide up my arms, over my shoulders, and to my back where he unfastens my bra and I let it fall down my arms and to the floor.
My nipples are already hard pebbles. I have goose bumps all over my skin. His breath, his eyes, his fingers are seducing me faster than anything else ever has.
I’m already addicted to him, and we’ve hardly touched each other.
“Beautiful,” he says again and presses a kiss on my chest, right between my breasts.
“You’re not naked yet,” I say. I’m tracing the very top of his boxer briefs, where the elastic meets his skin.
“Neither are you,” he replies and I smile up at him.
“You first.”
He cocks his head to the side and holds his arms out. “Help yourself.”
He’s making sure I know that I’m in control, and it’s just as touching as him declaring his love for me.
I slip my finger under the elastic, never looking away from his face. I can feel his smooth skin, pulled tight over his erection. The ridge of the head leads me to the very tip, and…metal?
“Um, Ben?”
“Yes, Angel.”
“Are you pierced?”
His lips tip up into a smile. “I am.”
I’m fascinated.
“I have to see this.” I pull his shorts down, freeing his cock, and stare in wonder not only at the metal ring he’s sporting in the tip, but the sheer size of him.
“That will not fit inside me.”
He chuckles. “I promise, it will.”
“I’m going to have so many questions for you later.”
“I hope so,” he says as I push the shorts down around his ankles. He steps free of them, and here he is, in all of his glory.
And let me just say, he’s mother fucking glorious.
“Can you please turn around?” I ask and bite my lip. He doesn’t ask why, or argue at all. He simply turns his back to me.
I knew I loved his tattoos. His sleeves are impressive. The others on his torso are beautiful.
But I had no idea that I could be this turned on by someone’s back.
The muscles are defined, rippled under inked skin. He doesn’t have his whole back covered, just up between his shoulder blades.
“What does the symbol on your back mean?”
“It’s the Krav Maga symbol,” he replies. He’s being so patient with me, letting me take my time to look him over.
His ass is firm, and he has those two dimples right above it.
I reach out and trace one, then the other.
“You can turn back around,” I say and smile at him when he complies. “I don’t want you to get a big head or anything, but you are physically ridiculous.”
“Thank you,” he says. “Now, it’s my turn.”
I hold my arms out at my side and smirk, mirroring his response from a minute ago. He steps to me and brushes his finger over the elastic, where it meets the skin along my waist.
I’m so damn wet right now, the panties will be soaked when he finally gets them off of me.
“I’m going to take these off,” he whispers.
“Great.” He hooks his thumbs in the waistband at my hips and slowly drags them down my legs, kissing my exposed skin and sending more goosebumps over my body. When they’re pooled at my feet, he stands and steps back so he can take a good, long look. I don’t even care that he’s looking at my belly, given the pure lust in his eyes. “Please turn around.”
I comply and hear him suck in a breath. I know I have a couple of scars on my back. They’re not as bad as they could be, and I don’t have to see them, so I forget they’re there.
Well, most of the time.
“Lift your hair off your neck, please.”
I grin and do as he asks.
“What does that one mean?” He’s referring to the tattoo just under my hairline.
“It’s a lotus flower. They rise out of the mud and are beautiful. I got it in college. It seemed pretty and symbolic, and had no idea just how symbolic it would end up being.”
“I agree,” he says. “You can let your hair down and turn around.”
He steps to me and cups my chin and neck in his palm. “I’m going to take my time tonight, Van. I want to explore you. I want to learn you.”
“Same page,” I whisper.
He urges me onto the bed, finally. The covers are cool against my already hot skin. He climbs on with me, covering me completely. His erection is heavy on my belly, and I love it. I can’t help myself, I reach down and cup him in my hand and watch with satisfaction as he closes his eyes and curses under his breath.
“If you keep doing that, it won’t be slow, sweetheart.”
I love that I’m turning him on as much as he is me. I love that there’s just the two of us here, no ghosts from the past. Just us, and this incredible attraction for each other.
I let go of him as he begins to pepper kisses over my neck. He kisses, then licks, and then moves on to the next spot, bless his heart.
“I thought the whole V in the hips thing was something reserved only for romance novels,” I whisper as he travels down my chest. He licks my navel, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
It tickles.
I’m shocked that I feel so comfortable here, naked, with the one man I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.
“You have a beautiful body.” He licks his way over to my hip and then up my side.
“Are you going to do this over my entire body?”
He stops and looks up at me. “Do you have something against this?”
“No.” I shake my head and brush his hair off his forehead. “It’s nice. But I’m not doing anything for you.”
“You’ll have the chance to repay the favor.” And with that, he goes back to exploring every inch of my body. Every nerve ending is quivering as he touches, kisses, licks, and bites his way all over me.
He flips me over on my stomach and starts at my feet, making his way up. He plants a wet kiss on both ass cheeks, making me giggle.
“Your stubble feels so good.”
“I should have shaved,” he says.
“I like it.”
“Yes, but I plan to kiss you here.” His fingers slide up between my legs and into my folds, and we both moan in pleasure. “You’re so fucking wet, Angel.”
“In case you missed it, I’m incredibly turned on.”
“I haven’t missed a thing,” he murmurs. His fingers have moved on, abandoning my core completely. I want to pout, but then he sucks on the small of my back.
Jesus, who knew the small of my back was a fucking erogenous zone?
“Like that?”
“Mm.” I can’t speak now as he nibbles his way up my spine.
“You have scars.” He traces one with his tongue.
“They’re fading.”
“I have some lotion I’ll put on them later.” He bites my shoulder. “It’ll help.”
“Oh my God.” I have to hang on for dear life as he kisses my lotus flower. My hips buck, my nipples are pebbles, and I’ve never come so close to orgasm from foreplay in my life.
“Good or bad?”
“Don’t stop. If you stop, I’ll have to beat you up.”
He chuckles and repeats the motion.
“You’re finding all kinds of erogenous zones I didn’t know existed.”
“That’s my job.” He flips me over again, and I’m staring up into the bluest eyes that rival the ocean. “By the time we’re finished, I don’t want you to remember your name.”
“I definitely couldn’t spell it right now.”
His hand glides down my side to my hip. His cock is pressed to my thigh, and he’s kissing me now, like he’s starving.
Finally, finally, he urges my legs apart. He doesn’t leave my lips as his fingers brush ever so lightly over my pussy. I’m so aroused, that all it takes is that gentle touch to have my hips rise up off the bed, seeking him out.
“Ben,” I gasp, holding on for dear life.
“What do you need?”
“You.” I’m riding his fingers now. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, and I certainly don’t want to. “I need you.”
He positions himself between my legs, wrapping them around his hips.
“Watch,” he says. I glance down and watch as the head of his cock, and that piece of metal, slips through my folds and inside me in the slowest, smoothest motion. When he’s in all the way, he stops and kisses me softly, and I can’t help the tear that falls from the corner of my eye. “Are you okay, love?”
“I’m so okay,” I reply. “You feel so good, and I’m happy to be here with you. It’s so much more amazing than I ever thought it could be.”
He rests his forehead on mine and begins to move in slow, shallow thrusts, allowing my body to adjust to him.
“You’re so tight,” he whispers.
“It’s been a very long time.” I bite my lip, wishing I hadn’t said that. What an idiot! But Ben being the kind man he is, he kisses me and grins.
“For me too,” he informs me, defusing what could have been an awkward moment. “My God, Van, this is better than anything in my dreams.”
“You can move faster.”
He cocks a brow. “Yes, ma’am.” His hips move faster, and he’s pushing a bit harder, and I can feel that little piece of metal hitting just the right spot, over and over again.
“Holy shit.”
Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6) Page 10
