He ignores my plea, holding my hip tighter, refusing to let me speed up the moment. His sac hits me, and I know I’ve taken all he can give. He starts to pull out, just as slowly as he started. I try moving, pushing forward, but he doesn’t let me.
“Been dreaming of this moment for too long, Cami. Want it to last as long as I can make it,” he tells me, reading the tension in my body. Slow and steady, he builds me up.
I moan loudly. The sensation of his cock pushing in and out of me is almost more than I can handle. He doesn’t relent, keeping pace and trapping me in a slow burn.
Ben
Even though I’m the hot link on the menu, I prefer a slow and steady burn. Spicy doesn’t always mean hard and fast.
The way her pussy grips my cock hard, it takes everything in me to keep it slow and steady because all I want to do is pound away at her sweetness. If she hadn’t told me it’s been a while for her, I would throw caution to the wind and have my way with her. But I can tell by the way her greedy pussy sucks me in, she’s telling the truth. The further I push into her, the tighter she gets, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.
“Fuck, Cami, you feel like heaven,” I mumble, slipping a hand between us to find her clit. She purrs in the back of her throat, clearly approving my efforts. “Need you to come.”
“Need you to speed up, so I can.”
“You first,” I challenge, increasing the speed and pressure I hold over her sensitive bud. Her body tenses, trying to hold out, but the moment her eyes fly open, I know she can’t fight me anymore. She explodes around my cock, clamping down on me so hard, it takes all my restraint not to come.
My name on her lips never sounded so good, but while she’s flying high, I gradually pick up speed, adjusting my position to hit her G-spot, prolonging her pleasure. I release my hold on her hips, finally allowing her to move with me, and she does, urging me to push faster and harder.
“Ben,” she breathes, her nails scraping the length of my back. Stuck in the limbo of her orgasm, she can only feel what I give her. “Faster… harder…”
“Come again for me, baby.” I gasp as my body tenses, the ache from my balls reminding me I don’t have much longer until I lose control. Fighting off my own pleasure, I focus solely on the woman underneath me and give her what she asks for.
Harder and faster. The slow burn is gone, replaced with need unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
The need to claim her.
The need to make her mine in every way possible.
Her body twitches underneath me, and she lets loose a scream of satisfaction, signaling her third and final orgasm. I continue to give her what she wants as pleasure tears through her body, drenching my cock with her sweet nectar.
My fucking goddess.
I know I’m close when the familiar tingle deep in my balls begins. She’s clamped so tightly around me, I’m surprised I can move.
But I do move.
Harder. Faster.
One stroke.
Two.
“Fuck…” My body jerks uncontrollably, and I finally find my release. Wave after wave crashes around me until I no longer know where she begins and I end. Connected as one, we only have each other to hold on to as our pleasure runs its course.
I begin to slow my jerky movements, and she wraps her arms around my neck, placing gentle kisses along my shoulder.
“Cami…” I lower my face to her dark hair, filling my lungs with her scent. There’s so much I want to say to her right now, but words elude me as exhaustion seeps in. I’ve never felt this sated this fast in my life. But I know it won’t last long. I’ll never be able to get enough of her.
“Ben,” she sighs as I pull out of her and collapse beside her. She rolls, places her head on my chest, and drags in a deep, satisfied breath.
Holding her, I get the sense that whatever it is I want to say will have wait because I feel her sated body relax and exhaustion consume her.
Once she is asleep, I slip out of bed and discard the proof of our love-making.
When I finally crawl back in beside her, I cover us both up, loving the fact that I’m falling asleep with her in my arms.
How did I get this lucky?
7
Cami
Light filters into the room, waking me to the gentle snore of someone beside me. My body freezes at the sound, but the delicious pull of used muscles reminds me of the events from the previous night and who I’m in bed with.
Ben.
His large, warm body stirs next to me, and I close my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Once he settles, his breath deepening again, I turn my head to take in the sight of him. But instead of finding a sleeping giant, I’m met with a large smile and sleepy brown eyes.
“Good morning,” he drawls, and his deep voice sends a thrill through my body.
“Morning,” I respond, turning the rest of my body to face him. He lifts an arm, and I snuggle into the crook, placing my hand on his chest to trace the hard lines of muscle. He wraps his arm tightly around me.
The sound of his stomach growling fills the awkward silence growing between us.
“Someone’s hungry,” I laugh and snuggle into him.
“My date made me skip dinner last night. She couldn’t wait for her dessert,” he teases. I can feel the smile on his lips as he presses a kiss against my head. “Would you like to get some breakfast?”
“I can’t.” I look up at him, wishing I could spend the day wrapped in his arms. “I have to work today. Dinner tonight?”
“I’ve got my girls tonight.”
“What about Sunday night, then? I’ll make dinner.” I lift up and settle on his chest, looking down at him. I lean in to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Usually, I’m a stickler for oral hygiene, but I want to feel his lips on mine more than I care about my morning breath.
“Sunday is no good, babe.” He tenses against me, but his arms reach around me, holding me close. It’s all I need to know the reason why Sunday is a no-go.
“You have a date,” I state. My heart squeezes in my chest, telling me I might have invested more than my body during our time together.
“Yes,” he says, squashing any hope that I’m wrong. “I can come by afterwards if you want.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I shake my head and try pushing off him. Does he really believe he can go from his date’s bed to mine like that?
“Why not?” he asks. His reluctance to let me go makes me push harder, and he finally releases me. Staring up at me, he seems to be trying to figure out what’s happening. I slide off him and onto my back, covering myself with the sheet, trying to shield myself from him. Not that it matters; he’s seen every inch of me. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Cami?”
“Nothing. Sundays are usually pretty busy for me anyways, prepping for next week and all. I shouldn’t have asked.” I sit up and look around the room for something, anything, to put on. I need to get out of this bed before I hurl all over myself. The thought of him being with another woman, the way we were only hours ago, makes me sick. I need space to think, to sort out the mess in my head and my heart. His arms snake around my middle, pulling me into the hard nakedness of his chest.
“Are you upset because I have a date?”
“It’s okay, Ben. I get it. I’m not your only client.” I take a deep breath. My chest hurts too much to keep everything inside. “I just thought after last night…”
He waits for me to continue, but the courage I felt disappears. The reality of who he is and what he does comes crashing down on me. He’s an escort; of course there is going to be other women. One night with him doesn’t give me claim to him. Besides, I paid for our night together.
“After last night what?” He nudges me, tightening his hold on me. I lean into him, swallowing the hurt itching to spill out of me, remembering I’m just like the others now.
“It doesn’t matter, Ben.”
“Babe, if it bothers you, it matters.”
There’s gentleness in his voice when he says the words. It eases the pain and calms my churning stomach. “Talk to me.”
“I thought maybe I was different. Maybe we were different.”
“You are different.” I don’t respond because I don’t know how to. If that were true, wouldn’t he cancel his dates? “You can come with me.”
“Are you crazy? I’m not going on your date with you.” Sitting up again, I exhale deeply. He can’t be serious.
“It’s not that kind of date. Come with me. Mrs. Morello would love the extra company.”
“Mrs. Morello?”
“Yes, my seventy-two-year-old date. That woman makes killer sauce. But Mrs. Boyle, my Wednesday night date, makes an Irish stew that will make your toes curl.”
“I don’t understand.” I stand, wrapping the sheet tightly around myself, and I turn to face him.
“I told you, it isn’t what you think. I’m not what you think.” He smirks up at me, the lines of his face soften, and his eyes tell me he’s speaking the truth. He reaches for my hand and lifts it to his lips. “I don’t fuck for money.”
“Then why did I give Jason my credit card number?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow.
“Pomp and circumstance. Check your statement. You’ll see he didn’t charge you for any of the fees you discussed with him. And he won’t.” He pulls me into him again, leaning down to place a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Jason called me the moment you left his shop, which he planned to do as soon as you told him your name. He’s my best friend, babe. He knows what you are to me.”
“What am I to you?”
“Mine.” The word sounds like a confession—one that makes me soft on the inside and tingly down south. “You have been since the moment I laid eyes on you. Fucked up when I didn’t make my move back then.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I’m being serious.” He looks down at our connected hands, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “You’re gorgeous, Cami. Everything a man could possibly want. You’re smart. Cute as hell, especially when you don’t realize you’re being cute. You even do this thing with a pencil, like you’re chewing on the end of the eraser, but you’re concentrating on something important. When you look up at me with those dark chocolate eyes, I sometimes forget how to breathe. You’re everything and more. You’re mine.”
“Ben—”
“My dates, I can’t give those up, Cami. Those women, they depend on me to show up every week.” He glances up at me and shows me his concern. “I can see if some of the other guys would be willing to take them on, but it depends on their schedules.”
“How many of them are there?” I ask carefully, bracing myself for his answers.
“Four.”
“But you don’t sleep with any of them?”
He chuckles, maybe because he senses the jealousy brewing inside of me, but it does nothing to help ease it. “No, babe, I don’t sleep with them. But I’m not going to lie. I have slept with clients in the past. No one recent, and it’s been a long time since I took on a new client.”
“You took me on.”
“You’re not a client.” I find his honesty inspiring and decide to trust him, giving him another piece of me.
“I like you, too. I mean, from the start.” I swallow hard, afraid to put myself out there with him but needing to do it. “I was married before. He was a jerk. He hurt me, and since then, I’ve been cautious. You’re the first man to make me feel comfortable, like I’m good enough. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not with you.”
“I like who you are, Cami. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
“I want to be with you, too, Ben.” He cups my face and kisses me, wiping away any remaining worries or concerns. “What now?”
“Now, we take it one day at a time,” he responds, pulling back a little. “I’m not going anywhere, Cami. I get you got a past. I do, too. But that’s all it is. Our past.”
“Will you leave The Meat Market?”
“Meeting with the guys on Monday, planned on doing it then.”
Feeling brave, I drop the sheet from my chest and turn to straddle him. He pushes my messy hair away from my face and looks at me with adoration in his eyes. “We got some things to work out, but I don’t want to think about it anymore, Ben.”
“When do you have to be at work?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I feel a cold coming on.” I smile down at him as I wrap my arms and legs around him. Lowering my head, I brush my lips lightly against his, teasing him. “Maybe I should call in sick.”
“I think that’s the best thing you’ve said all morning.” He reaches up and claims my lips in one swift motion, stealing the breath from my lungs and ultimately my heart.
8
Ben
“Sweet Cami, I can’t begin to tell you how much joy it gives me to see Ben so happy,” Mrs. Morello coos from across the table. Cami’s hand tightens in mine, and I watch as she relaxes into her chair. It was a fight to get her here tonight, but now that she’s met Mrs. Morello, I can sense her relief. “The ladies at the auxiliary club will be thrilled, too.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Cami replies with a warm smile. Her brown eyes shine brightly in Mrs. Morello’s dimly-lit kitchen.
“We’ve all been so worried about him,” Mrs. Morello continues, but not before standing and adding more pasta to my plate. She throws me a wink and an extra meatball. “He’s been alone for too long. It’s high time he finds a woman to share his life with. The ladies and I did everything we could to keep our weekly dates with him, so he had a least three good meals during the week. Do you cook, Cami?”
Cami swings a look my way, but from the frown on my own forehead, she knows I have no idea what the old woman is talking about.
“I do. Very well, actually. My sister is a chef, and she taught me everything I know.”
“Wonderful,” Mrs. Morello exclaims with a clap of her hands. “Tonight, before you leave, I will give you my recipe for Ben’s favorite meatballs. It was my mother’s recipe, but since I never had children of my own, and Ben has become somewhat of a son to me, I’d be happy to pass it on to you. Of course, you’ll have to promise to pass it on to your own children. I mean, that is if you plan on having any. Do you?”
“Mrs. Morello—” I start, but Cami gives my hand another squeeze. I’ve never known the woman to be this intrusive, but then again, I had no idea my weekly date with her was something done strictly to take care of me because I’m not married. Learning that my other two weekly standing dates are based on the same reasoning, I don’t know what to think. Here I thought I was doing something good for them.
“One day,” Cami answers softly. She keeps her gaze on Mrs. Morello, but her cheeks brighten as she speaks. “I’d like to have children of my own.”
“What about you, Ben? I know you have two girls, but would you want more? With Cami?” Mrs. Morello beams, but I know what’s she doing here. Most of what she told us tonight might be news to me, but her line of questioning isn’t.
“Mrs. Morello, are you trying to play matchmaker?” I ask, smiling at her.
“Guilty,” she laughs, throwing up her hands.
“As I’ve told you in the past, with the right woman, I’d love to have more children,” I answer, looking at Cami and meeting her gaze. I let her see the truth behind my words.
The right woman.
Her.
The soft look in her eyes strikes me in the chest. She feels it, too.
“Do you hear that, girl?” Cami nods but doesn’t look away. “What do you think about my sweet Ben here?”
“I think he’s… very special,” she answers, finally breaking her gaze and looking at Mrs. Morello. I watch as she smiles, giving the old woman the same warm smile she’s given me time after time.
I’ve never wanted a woman like I want her. I’d give her babies and have fun making them. As many as she wants. I want them to have her brown eyes, na
tural wit, and love of books. I want her to be a part of Kinsley and Katie’s life, and not just as the librarian they work with.
“Well, would you look at that,” Mrs. Morello coos, sitting back in her chair to take in the sight of Cami’s heated blush and my inability to look away from the beautiful creature beside me. “Looks like this is going to be my last Sunday night dinner, Benjamin.”
Cami
I kiss Ben one last time before wrapping my robe around me and exiting the room in search of my cell phone. We both fell asleep after another fantastic night. But I was woken moments ago by the sound of my phone going off for what has to be the hundredth time tonight.
My sister, despite the multiple text messages I’ve sent, reassuring her of my wellbeing has refused to stop calling me. I know if I don’t call her back soon, she’ll be pounding on my door looking for better answers.
I close the door softly behind me and make my way toward the front of my house, dialing her number as I go.
“It’s about fucking time you called me back. You’re too late, though. I’m walking up to your front door right now.”
“No, Rachelle, you can’t come here,” I panic, freezing mid-step to look around the room. Ben’s clothing, along with my own, trails from the front door down the hall to my bedroom.
“Too late,” she replies, hanging up on me and knocking on my front door. The sound of her knock jolts me out of my panic, and I scramble to pick up the proof of my weekend activities. Except for last night—when he had the girls—and dinner with Mrs. Morello, we’ve spent our time exploring one another without clothing.
Rachelle knocks again, this time louder. “I know you’re home, Cami. You said as much on the phone.”
Throwing the large pile of clothing into the spare room, I look around one last time for any sign of Ben. Seeing none, I take a breath and walk over to the door to let my sister in.
Slow Burn (All Heart Series) Page 4
