BENCHED

by Abigail Graham

  Almost the entire time. Before she passes my husband back to me, she grins and grabs his ass.

  Jason looks to jump a foot in the air before I grab him and glare at her, while she still grins. Jason laughs, and Mother joins him.

  Aheahe taps her shoulder.

  She turns to face him, then tilts her head up to look him in the eye.

  "May I have this dance?"

  Her jaw drops.

  Then, to my absolute shock, she dances with him. My mother is a tall woman, though slender, but I've never thought of her as small until I see her dancing with a Thunder Brother.

  I can't stop myself from laughing. She looks mortified, until Thorlief cuts in.

  They, too, throw propriety to the wind.

  Something softens inside me whenever I see them together. She leans on her head on his chest and I know how she feels, the way the world drops away and the only thing is his chest against her cheek.

  The dancing ends before I realize it and we head back to the table to eat. I'm already itchy to leave. By the time the cake is served, I'm almost bouncing in my seat.

  When it's finally time, I yank the crown off my head and pass it to my mother.

  "Hold this," I say.

  "Yes, Your Grace," she replies, a hint of reproach in her voice.

  Jason takes his cue. He stands up, then scoops me out of my seat and into his arms.

  The entire court follows us back up the hallway to the royal apartments, cleared for our use tonight before we leave for our honeymoon.

  They stop at the door, to my great relief.

  Jason kicks it shut behind him and it swings closed with a massive thud, as my feet touch the floor. I slip my arms from around his neck and take him by the lapel of his jacket from the sitting room into the bedroom.

  I was probably conceived in this bed, but I put that out of my mind as I pull him towards it. When my backside bumps against the mattress, we stop. He leans in hungrily, but I bring him to pause with a hand on his chest and gently nudge him away so I have room to disrobe.

  My sleeves are pinned to the bodice of the dress. I remove them first, drawing out the pins, turning sleeves to gloves that slip from my arms and fall to the floor. While he watches hungrily, I undo the laces that hold it closed around my body and shrug out of the dress. It pools at my feet as I pull off my hairnet and shake my locks loose behind my back.

  Beneath my dress I wore the surprise I've been saving for years now, the skimpy piece of lingerie I bought that first time we went to the mall together. A thing of creamy silk, it clings tightly to my body, barely covering me at all. I take one step away from my discarded gown and and I can see from the look on Jason's face, and the bulge in his trousers, that it has had the intended effect.

  "What are you waiting for?"

  He discards his clothes wildly and lifts me, by the hips, onto the bed. We roll and I end up on top of him, yanking at his boxers as he pulls the strap aside and his warm hand shoves under the silk to cup my breast as his other hand skims over my rump, then squeezes. I let out a little yelp as he smacks my butt and pulls me down by the back of my neck to kiss me hard.

  Another roll and then he's on top. I can feel his cock against my stomach, hard and heavy and throbbing with need. His hands take my arms and slide up to my wrists as he pins them over my head.

  His face fills my vision, his nose inches from mine. His breath plays across my lips, and the tension slides from my body like a silk sheet slipping off a featherbed. In the soft candlelight, he's more handsome than ever, a bronzed god. The gentle press of his lips on mine stirs something like a tickle in the back of my throat. The only way to scratch is to kiss him back, harder.

  His hands leave my wrists and glide down my arms, then my sides, resting on my ribs. He gives me a gentle squeeze and a shudder of satisfaction ripples through my body. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him down.

  Jason settles his weight on top of my body, his presence a subtle resistance when I breathe, his scent filling my nostrils.

  Slowly, I bring my legs up to caress his thighs with my calves. He wriggles loose from my grip and begins working his way down, peeling the silk from my body as he goes, baring my breasts to the air and then to his warm hungry mouth. My short sharp gasp echoes in the expansive chamber, when his lips tug at my nipple. I scratch lightly at his neck and scalp with my fingers as he kisses down my belly.

  Pressing my thighs together, he peels the skimpy negligee the rest of the way from my body and then lays on my legs, pressing them together. I writhe and squirm as his mouth burns a warm promise down my stomach, only to veer away from my sex and skim over my hip and thigh. I groan and give his hair little tugs to direct him to my pussy, but he shakes loose and ignores me. It only fuels my desire, thrumming in my veins like a too-tight bowstring.

  I need this so desperately. I can be queen out there if I am with him, here, tonight and always.

  My legs still pressed together, he gives me a first hinting kiss at my mound and my whole body shudders. Finally he shifts and releases me and I throw my legs open eagerly, wantonly. I gaze down at him and stroke my own hands down my thighs, tensing my stomach and pivoting my hips to offer myself to him.

  He grins for just a second and then dives in. Jason has had plenty of time to learn my body. In some ways I miss out first explorations where he would tease me here and there and follow the gasps and moans. The tension in his body tells me all I need to know. He wants me wet and he wants me wet right now.

  It doesn't take long until hollow need throbs in my body and I pull at his hair, not gently, urging him to rise up, mount me, and take me.

  Jason crawls over top of me on his hands and knees. I run my hands up his sides and close my legs around him as he enters me. I groan as he fills me and our bodies join. It only takes moments for us to find our steady rhythm, his forehead pressed to mine as he thrusts to meet the swivel of my hips.

  He slows, and I try to speed up, breaking the union of our motions.

  "What…?" I manage.

  He kisses me. "We have all night before we catch the plane. We can go slow."

  He rests more of his weight on me, as much to restrain me as to close with me, and does just that. His hips move in a slow steady rhythm. He can last a long time like this, as can I. Our lovemaking is more embrace than frantic coupling, our limbs entwined, sweaty bodies gliding against each other until I can't tell where he stops and I begin.

  "Ana," he murmurs my name in my ear, "Ana…"

  His arms tighten, his body rises, and lovemaking turns to fucking. A sudden, almost harsh climax builds through the velvety sweetness of the long embrace, shuddering first in my legs and belly and spreading there in rapid shocks as Jason grunts and finishes inside me.

  I can feel him pulsing even as my body clenches around him. So hard, so hot. Nothing makes me happier than this moment of afterglow when we've finished together.

  His head lifts up but he doesn't draw out of me or move. Jason holds my sweaty body to his and kisses my forehead. I am more than content to lie there with him until he's ready again.

  I give him a light smack on the butt. He flinches and grins at me.

  "We have all night," I tell him. "So does that mean that we should savor it, or see if we can set a new record?"

  "Why don't we savor setting a new record?" he says, as he grows hard again inside me.

  Jason

  Ana is naked again.

  Ordinarily I wouldn't pay it much mine, but I do wonder what she's thinking strutting around buck-ass nude on the deck.

  Well, I know what she's thinking. Since we arrived she's put on a magnificent tan that is strangely exotic when paired with her pale hair, like she's become fire and ice all in one. Ana wears it loose most of the time now, cascading to her back.

  Now she spreads it over her shoulder as she flops on a towel on a chaise lounger, lying nude in the sun. Nude and sweaty. Glistening with sweat. She tucks her sunglasses down and gives me a look that
's enough to melt a glacier. The smirk settles it.

  So far as I can tell, with a stretch of private beach and our secluded bungalow, no one can see us. Taking the hint, I discard my board shorts and strut over.

  "Sunblock?"

  She nods, and barely conceals her excitement as I rub the creamy lotion all over her body. I take my time, savoring the feeling. She's already silky but my hands gliding over her skin with the lotion cranks it up to eleven.

  She sits up, then stands. I rub it all down her back and the back of her legs, and pay particular attention to her backside, working it into the impossibly soft and smooth skin of her ass.

  "I should do you," she says, smirking.

  "Yes," I choke out.

  "I have an idea. Lay down."

  I lay back on the chaise.

  Ana squirts half of what remains in the bottle on my chest, then the rest on herself, and dives on top of me. The slick lotion is cool between us as her breasts slide up my body from my stomach to my neck.

  She glides forward and back, smearing it all over us.

  I can stand about thirty seconds of that before I pull her up. Grinning, she pivots her hips just the right way and I enter her with a gasp.

  She sits up, her hands rubbing the lotion into my chest as it slides like melted wax down her flawless breasts and belly. She moves her hips in a slow motion, all her weight pinned down on my body to keep my buried to the root.

  "I have something to tell you," she says, fluttering her eyelashes.

  "Oh?" I say.

  My God, she is magnificent. The ideal of beauty.

  “What?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  I pull her down by the arms and kiss her fiercely, the greatest joy I've ever known swelling in my chest.

  Also by Abigail Graham

  Standalone Romances

  Benched

  Player’s Princess

  Books set in the world of Paradise Falls

  Paradise Falls

  Blackbird

  Hawk

  Bad Boy Next Door

  Broken Wings

  His Princess

  Thank you for reading!

  Thank you for reading Benched. I hope you enjoyed it!

  Comments are welcome at abbygrahamromance@gmail.com

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  Benched Copyright 2016 © Abigail Graham

  Player’s Princess Copyright 2016 © Abigail Graham

  Edited by Tina Winograd

  Cover by Kevin McGrath, photograph by Sara Eirew

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.