“You taste incredible,” he growls, and then he dives between my thighs, dipping his tongue inside me only to drag it up and latch onto my clit, sucking until I can feel my muscles trembling, fists clutching at the sheet underneath us — only for him to start all over.
“Flint… oh God, Flint, come on.” Those are the words I keep repeating as he teases me with oblivion again and again, and I’m starting to wonder if he plans on keeping this going until I explode, but then he finds my clit again and stays there. Focusing on it until I’m trembling once more, babbling something that would probably be words if I could think past the rising wave of pleasure.
It’s perfect, or at least I thought that was perfection until he slides one finger inside, quickly followed by another, and finds my g-spot like he’s got a fucking homing beacon on it. The merciless focus on my clit combined with the tapping on that bundle of nerves inside me sends me over the edge in a cacophonous rush of bliss that erases the world temporarily, blitzing it out of existence until I realize that he hasn’t stopped.
“No, no, no, no, Flint!” I shout and he sits up instantly, looking concerned for a second until I start laughing. “Oh my God, no. I want you now. You.”
Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he bites down for a second and it’s quite possibly the hottest expression I’ve ever seen on a man. Especially since he just devoured me like the big bad wolf and looks like he isn’t done.
“Please,” I beg, and I don’t feel an ounce of shame in it. If he gives me another orgasm like that, I’m not even going to be functioning, and I want to experience every moment of sex with Flint Etheridge.
“You are so fucking perfect,” he growls, moving up my body, and I can’t pretend I’m not impressed by his body. He’s that perfect blend of fit but real, not ridiculously muscled, just a gorgeous guy with a whole lot of skill with his hands… and his tongue… and with the way he kisses… and talks… and, fuck.
He’s perfect, not me.
I don’t get the chance to argue though because he captures my lips in a kiss, and I’m suddenly filled with anxious excitement as I feel him move between my thighs. It’s not my first time. Hell, it’s not even close, but for some reason it feels like it is. We’re crossing a line we can never uncross, going from crushes and childhood friends, to a whole lot more than that, and I’ve never been more excited to take that step with someone.
When he hesitates, I lift my hips to meet him, feeling his shaft slide through my wetness, and the low growl that earns me paints a grin over my lips that he erases with the first inch he pushes inside me. We both moan in unison, and hearing him right against my ear, breathing and making those hungry sounds, only makes me want him more.
This time when I lift my hips, I pull him deeper, and then he pins me back to the floor and finishes the thrust, stretching me and filling me in the most incredible way. All I can do is gasp, letting out a little moan of bliss before I manage a hushed, “Oh God.”
“You okay?” he whispers, lifting up to look into my eyes, and I nod, wrapping my arms around his back.
“Don’t stop,” I answer, and he kisses me. Gently at first, playful nips and long, slow kisses that match the rhythm of his thrusts. He’s bigger than I estimated when I had him in my mouth. I knew I couldn’t fit him all the way in but having him inside me is a completely different experience. Every slow, powerful shift of his hips seems to reach a new place, stoking a fire that he feeds with every kiss, every touch.
“You feel amazing, Brinn,” he groans, low and soft. The words buzz against my lips, and I can’t even manage a response, so I just kiss him again, our bodies rocking together in perfect tandem, stretching out this slow, methodical friction that is somehow too much and not enough at the same time.
Wrapping my leg around his waist, I push his shoulder, and he gets the hint, holding onto my hips as we roll, leaving me on top. When I sit up, he takes advantage, trailing his fingers over my ribs, my stomach, and my breasts as I rock. I manage to keep the slow pace for a few minutes, grinding my clit against him with every swirl of my hips, but then he thrusts up, driving just a little deeper and I know I want more of that. “God, yes. Again, Flint.”
He repeats it, bracing one hand on my hip as we both pick up speed until we’re breathing hard, and I love how he curses under his breath, pressing his fingers tighter into my skin as the friction builds, turning the steady burn into an inferno.
“Fuck, I need you under me,” Flint growls, and I nod, rolling with him again, and with the next thrust I feel just how much power he’s been holding back.
“Yes!” I shout, dragging my nails down his back as he bends one of my knees toward my shoulder and somehow hits even deeper, giving the slightest twinge of pain with the whirl of ecstasy from the next hard thrust. “Fuck, yes, Flint! Harder, make me yours, please…”
“You like it?” he asks, slamming hard enough to move me on the floor, and I answer him with a moan, encouraging him without words because I can’t focus as he drives deep again. “God, I’ve wanted you so long, Brinnah,” he growls. “And now you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yours,” I babble, holding on and trying to meet his thrusts as he fucks me hard, claiming me, owning me in the most intense, intimate way I’ve ever felt. Our kisses are harried, rushed, broken over and over by the next hard thrust or gasp for air as we lay claim to each other, the unforgiving floor making every rough slam of his hips into mine a gloriously powerful ache that has me walking a brilliant tightrope toward orgasm. The heat of the fire seems to make everything more extreme, our skin quickly turning slick with sweat, but it’s like both of us are holding on to make it last just a little longer.
That’s not possible though, and I know it, I can feel my nerves buzzing with electric bliss, my skin tingling with the promise of release, and as every muscle in my body draws tight, I hold my breath for one more perfect moment of Flint driving deep, filling me, and then everything crashes. A chaotic whirlwind of heat and ecstasy as the orgasm rips through me like a wildfire, leaving me barely enough air to shout his name before the world shatters into a million prismatic shards of pleasure.
“Brinnah, fuck, yessss,” Flint growls, thrusting a few more times before he slams deep and I feel him come, spilling heat inside me as his weight settles over me, sealing us together.
For a while everything feels hazy, blurred by the chemical cocktail still alive and burning in my veins, but I know my arms are wrapped tight around his back, and we’re still connected.
That’s all I need for the moment. I need to breathe, I need my heart to beat, and I need Flint Etheridge to stay right where he is as the pieces of my world settle back into place in a new pattern, which definitely has him in it.
When Flint lifts his head again, his warm brown eyes look as dazed as I feel, but the way he kisses me is gentle and sweet and everything I could want. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he looks down at me, smiling slightly as he traces his thumb under my lip, gliding it along my jaw until he can rest his hand alongside my neck. “You’re incredible, Brinnah.”
“You are,” I retort, overlaying his hand with my own.
“I think I lo—” Flint cuts himself off, just staring into my eyes, and I’m breathless for a moment. There’s a warm flood in my chest accompanied by the rapid beat of my heart, and I know what he wants to say.
“I think I do too,” I whisper, and his eyes widen a little before that cocky grin spreads.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, and he rocks his hips, making us both moan softly before we laugh.
“Sure it’s not because of this?” he asks, and I lift my hips and squeeze around him, reveling in the way his eyes flutter closed for a second. “Damn.”
“I think this might be part of it, but it’s not all of it. I think I’ve felt it since the moment I saw you in the meeting this morning.” Holy shit, was that really this morning?
“Yeah,” he whispers, running his thumb back and forth over my
cheek. “I felt the same way. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”
“I noticed.”
He chuckles, leaning down to press a light kiss to my lips. “I figured it was hard to ignore, but all of this just seems…”
“Like it was meant to be?” I finish and he meets my gaze, nodding.
“Exactly,” he says, sliding from me to lay down at my side, and although I miss that connection, I love the way he pulls me into his chest, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. “You know, I never believed in the idea of destiny or fate before today, but I can’t think of any other explanation.”
“I don’t know either… but I feel it.”
“A connection,” he adds, and I tilt my head back to smile at him.
“Exactly,” I answer, and he grins, leaning down to kiss me before tossing his arm under his head to lay back down. Turning on my side, I rest my hand on his chest, intertwining our legs, and he just pulls me closer. “A connection… I think that’s the perfect word.” For now.
A word like love gets thrown around a lot, and I’m pretty sure we both feel that too, but what’s between us is something more. Something deeper.
We were always connected. Across distance and time.
It just took a strange, miraculous set of events to get us back together, to give us this second-chance to get it right, and it could be the post-orgasmic bliss I’m still riding, but I can’t imagine ever walking away from this. It’s more than just the incredible sex, it’s him. It’s this.
It’s us.
And our story is like something straight out of a fairy tale, miraculous and magical, once upon a snowstorm…
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THE END
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Thank you for reading! 100% of the profits from this anthology will be given to the Live A Thousand Lives charity.
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About the Author
Jennifer Bene is a USA Today bestselling author of dangerously sexy and deviously dark romance. From BDSM, to Suspense, Dark Romance, and Thrillers—she writes it all. Always delivering a twisty, spine-tingling journey with the promise of a happily-ever-after.
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Don't miss a release! Sign up for the newsletter to get new book alerts (and a free welcome book) at: http://jenniferbene.com/newsletter
You can find her online throughout social media with username @jbeneauthor and on her website: www.jenniferbene.com
Also By Jennifer Bene
The Thalia Series (Dark Romance)
Security Binds Her (Thalia Book 1)
Striking a Balance (Thalia Book 2)
Salvaged by Love (Thalia Book 3)
Tying the Knot (Thalia Book 4)
The Thalia Series: The Complete Collection
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The Beth Series (Dark Romance)
Breaking Beth (Beth Book 1)
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Fragile Ties Series (Dark Romance)
Destruction (Fragile Ties Book 1)
Inheritance (Fragile Ties Book 2)
Redemption (Fragile Ties Book 3)
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Dangerous Games Series (Dark Mafia Romance)
Early Sins (A Dangerous Games Prequel)
Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1)
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Standalone Dark Romance
Imperfect Monster
Corrupt Desires
Deviant Attraction: A Dark and Dirty Collection
Reign of Ruin
Mesmer
Jasmine
Crazy Broken Love
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Standalone BDSM Ménage Romance
The Invitation
Reunited
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Dark Suspense / Horror
Burned: An Inferno World Novella
Scorched: A New Beginning
Noxious (Anathema Book 1)
Mephitic (Anathema Book 2)
Viperous (Anathema Book 3)
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Appearances in the Black Light Series (BDSM Romance)
Black Light: Exposed (Black Light Series Book 2)
Black Light: Valentine Roulette (Black Light Series Book 3)
Black Light: Roulette Redux (Black Light Series Book 7)
Black Light: Celebrity Roulette (Black Light Series Book 12)
Black Light: Charmed (Black Light Series Book 15)
Black Light: Roulette War (Black Light Series Book 16)
Black Light: The Beginning (Black Light Series Book 17.5)
Black Light: Unbound (Black Light Series Book 18)
Books Released As Cassandra Faye
Daughters of Eltera Series (Dark Fantasy Romance)
Fae (Daughters of Eltera Book 1)
Tara (Daughters of Eltera Book 2)
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Standalone Paranormal Romance
Hunted (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 13)
One Crazy Bite
Dangerous Magic
Delicious
By Dylan Allen
Chapter 1
Max
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"I got your note," I grin at the bombshell Sophia Loren look alike who just answered the door in a pale pink robe that's just short enough to be sexy but long enough that it's clear she doesn't mean for it to be.
She squints up at me, brushes her long chestnut colored hair out her eyes and frowns. "Then why are you knocking on my door at seven thirty in the morning?"
Her lips, wide and full even as they frown up at me, are the same color as the peonies blooming in huge pale pink clusters in the bushes framing the grey bricked path that leads to her house. But prettier.
"Hello?" she waves a hand front of my face and pulls me out of my very enjoyable study of her mouth.
I take my time moving from her lips and linger on the small beauty mark on the left side of her mouth. Her skin is flushed with sleep, and her cheeks have a glow to them I have a feeling is always present. She's got a long straight nose that, like her mouth, is on the verge of being too big for her face.
"I came to apologize and introduce myself. You know, be neighborly,” I say when I finally reach her eyes. They are the color of the sea. Dark green, clear and, right now, just as turbulent.
"I'm Maximillian Edwards, but you can call me Max. It’s what my friends do," I mention as I extend my hand.
She eyes it for a second and then puts hers in it.
When our hands touch, the warmth of her palm pressed to mine, I feel a tingle all the way up my arm. Judging by her surprised gasp and the way her eyes fly between our joined hands and my face, she does, too.
I say a silent thank you to whatever good luck brought this goddess to the long vacant beach house next door to mine.
"I'm Franchesca Parisi,” she says, her lips turning up in a smile that's subtle, but still reaches all the way to her gorgeous wide eyes. "You can call me Franchesca, Maximillian." She pulls her hand out of my grasp and fusses with her hair again. Her eyes
"Ouch," I flatten hand on my chest in a wounded gesture that's only half feigned. "Are you rejecting my offer of friendship?"
"Yes," she says even though her smile grows wider. "I'm not friends with morning people. I don't trust them," she deadpans.
"I'm not a morning person. I'm an all-day person," I retort.
“Even worse,” she chuckles. It's husky, effortless, and I think it's my new favorite sound.
She tightens the belt of her robe, and the motion draws my eye to her waist. It's small, and the ample curve of her hips and the generous breasts that strain the fabric of her robe accentuate it even more.
"Ahem..." She clears her throat pointedly.
I force my eyes back to her face and offer her a contrite smile. "I'm sorry. I don't usually ogle women, I swear."
She quirks that sexy mouth into a disbelieving smirk.
"Really," I protest.
She just raises one of her sable colored eyebrows and taps her chin with one of her dark red finger nails. Against the pink, brown and green tableau that makes up the rest of her, they hint at tendency to buck conformity.
"Let me guess… you're just so overwhelmed by me in particular that you've suddenly started behaving out of character," she says in a dry tone that says she thinks that it's more likely that aliens live among us.
I cock my head at her in surprise. "Yes. You’re traffic stopping beautiful," I tell her honestly.
She flushes, but her smile disappears. I know by the look on her face I've said the wrong thing. "Flattery won't get you anywhere. At least not with me," she says tightly.
"I'm sorry," I apologize immediately. I'm not the type of guy to press unwanted advances on women. I realize how my presence, coupled with my ogling and my blatant flirting, must seem.
I Have Lived And I Have Loved: A Charity Romance Collection Page 46
