He backs me up against the bed, and I fall onto it with his large body over mine. I feel vulnerable naked while he’s fully dressed, but I feel confident he won’t stay that way for long.
My legs wind around his waist and I rub against his jeans. My hands skim under his shirt over his toned stomach, pushing the shirt up as I go. I want it off and he obliges, breaking the kiss long enough to tear it off and throw it into the corner of the room. My heart beats so fast that I think it might fall out of my chest.
He kisses my neck and down my chest, over my breasts, before swirling his tongue around each nipple. I’m pretty sure I whimper. He moves further down, kissing my stomach and then stops, looking at me for affirmation.
I nod. I don’t want him to stop. Ever.
He hooks my legs over his shoulders and swipes his tongue over my pussy.
I really do whimper that time. My fingers grasp at the sheets, his hair, anything to keep me from flying away.
He lifts his head enough to ask, “Does that feel good?”
“Don’t stop,” I plead.
He chuckles but does as I said. I’ve never experienced anything that can compare to the pleasure he makes me feel. This is unlike anything else, and it’s amazing.
My body tingles and I fall over the edge of a cliff. At least, that’s what it feels like. My vision goes fuzzy and I forget to breathe.
Bennett moves back up my body and kisses me. He bites my bottom lip and tugs on it just slightly. I reach for his belt buckle, my hands shaking from the aftershocks of my orgasm.
Bennett grasps my hands, stopping me.
“Are you sure?” he asks again. “We can stop right now. This doesn’t have to go any farther than this.”
I shake my head and push his hands off. “Shut up.”
He chuckles and rolls to the bed, taking me with him so that I’m on top. I undo the buckle and move onto the button and zipper. I move fast—scared that he’ll change his mind. I’m not worried about myself. I’m sure. I want this more than anything.
When I have his jeans completely undone, he rolls me back over and then stands, getting rid of his jeans and underwear in one movement.
“Eager, are we?” I ask, propping up on my elbows. I groan when he wraps his hand around his cock and gives it one sure stroke.
“There’s a hot naked girl lying on the bed. Of course I’m eager.” He reaches for his jeans and pulls out his wallet. He fumbles through it and pulls out a condom, holding it between his fingers.
“I don’t know whether I should be mad or glad that you have that in there.” I narrow my eyes on him.
He chuckles and rips the foil. “Better to be prepared than not.”
He rolls the condom on and then stalks toward me. I lie back on the bed and his large body falls on top of me. He holds his weight above me enough that I can feel him, but I’m not crushed.
He takes my chin between his fingers and tips my head down, staring into my eyes. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but you have no fucking clue how badly I’ve wanted this—wanted you.”
My throat catches and I reach up, rubbing my fingers over the stubble on his cheek. We don’t say anything. We don’t need to. A thousand words can be conveyed in one look.
He kisses me and pulls back, nuzzling his lips against my ear. “This is going to hurt you,” he warns, “and I’m so fucking sorry for that.”
I brush my fingers through his hair, noting the worry in his eyes. “I’ll be okay,” I tell him. “I’m ready.” I mean that in more ways than one.
He guides himself inside me and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the pinch.
He starts in slowly and I hiss. He immediately stops. “What? What did I do?” he asks, touching my face tenderly. “Grace?”
“Do it fast,” I tell him. “Like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
He chuckles. “Sex isn’t like a Band-Aid, Princess.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Last time I checked, you didn’t have a vagina to know what this feels like. Just do it, Bennett.”
He rolls his hips slightly. “Definitely no vagina.” He winks.
He bends and kisses me, but doesn’t move any farther inside me. His tongue tangles in mine and I grasp his shoulders, ready to push him away so I can yell at him to get a move on with it, when he does push all the way into me. I cry into his mouth and I’m pretty sure I bite his tongue or lip. He doesn’t scold me, though.
He holds steady there and looks down at me as I fight tears. I knew it would hurt, but I guess I didn’t think it would be this bad.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and he looks truly distraught at causing me any sort of pain.
I want to tell him it’s okay, but there’s not any air in my lungs to speak with. He seems to know to give me a minute, and eventually, the pain turns to a dull throbbing and my fingernails are no longer digging into his shoulders.
“I’m okay,” I assure him. “Promise.”
He looks at me doubtfully. “Tell me when you’re ready for me to move.”
“Not yet.” I nearly scream the words, clamping my legs around his waist.
He chuckles softly and lowers his head, sweeping his lips over mine in a tender caress. He’s being infinitely sweet with me—sweeter than I ever imagined. He deepens the kiss and I completely forget about the pain. He moves to my neck, kissing the sensitive skin there and my hips rock slightly against his. The pain is minimal now, merely a dullness remaining. But I still find myself scared to tell him to continue in case it starts up again. He seems fine to wait, though.
I grasp his cheeks in my hands and bring his lips back to mine. I kiss him deeply, my tongue tangling with his. He tastes like cinnamon and something sweet that I can’t quite pinpoint.
With a shaky breath I say, “You can move now.”
He pauses, giving me the chance to take back the words if I don’t really mean them, but he must see the truth there because he slides out the smallest amount and back in. It hurts, but not like before. It’s duller now.
I can tell he’s holding back, however.
“I can take it,” I tell him. “Don’t hold back.”
He looks uncertain and breathes out, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” I promise. At least, not now, like this. He does have the power to hurt me—to break my heart.
He grabs my waist and angles my hips up. He moves faster, but not too fast, and for that, I’m thankful. He’s slightly rough, though, in the way his fingers dig into my skin, and I love that—I love that he’s so close to losing control that he has to hold onto me.
He stares down at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I don’t feel that way when he looks at me. More than beautiful: he makes me feel alive in a way I never have before.
He lowers, his chest pressing mine, and angles his hips so he’s pressing deeper into me. My eyes nearly roll back into my head.
“Do that again,” I beg.
He does, chuckling when he sees what it does to me.
I force my eyes open and look down to where we’re joined. The sight turns me on and I clench around him. Bennett’s eyes darken with desire.
“That turns you on,” he rasps out. “Watching me fuck you.”
It does, but I have no words to tell him. My thoughts have turned into a kaleidoscope of colors and I can’t think straight. The only thing I feel and know is pleasure.
He rubs his fingers against me, and I jolt in surprise at the feeling.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, worried.
I shake my head.
He rubs his fingers harder and I nearly black out from the pleasure. I come around him, my fingers digging into his arms, and when I come back down to Earth I see that I’ve bitten his shoulder.
Oops.
Bennett doesn’t look upset, though. Instead, he looks even more turned on than he was before.
He moves a little faster and bends to kiss me. He growls into my ne
ck when he comes and then rolls off of me before his weight can crush me. He surprises me by reaching for me and holding my body against his side. I hook my leg over his and we both try to gather our breaths.
As my senses come back I can’t believe that really just happened, but I don’t regret it.
Not at all.
“Are you okay?” he asks me a few minutes later when he’s caught his breath.
I nod, burrowing my head into the space where his neck meets his shoulder. His hand rests on my thigh and he circles his thumb there. He kisses my forehead tenderly before sitting up and leaving me in the bed.
I can’t move. My limbs have turned to Jell-O.
He moves around the room but I’m too tired to turn my head and see what he’s doing. He comes back a minute later with one of his t-shirts and coaxes me into a sitting position. He puts the shirt on me and climbs into bed beside me, pulling the covers over us.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. I shake my head and he chuckles. “Are you still speechless?” I nod and he cups my cheek, turning me to look at him. “It’s not because you’re upset, is it?” He sounds worried now.
I shake my head. “Just tired.”
He chuckles and kisses the end of my nose. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
I do, and it’s the best sleep I’ve ever had.
I hold Grace’s hand the entire six-hour drive from the hotel to her house. I don’t know how last night changes things, I don’t really want to think about it and complicate everything, but for now, I’m content to just let things be.
Grace looks out the window, her dark hair curling around her shoulders and dressed in a skirt and blouse. She’s beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever met—inside and out.
“We’re almost there,” she says, and it’s unnecessary since I know that too thanks to my navigation system. She sounds worried, though. She’s been unusually quiet, and I hope to God it’s not because she regrets having sex with me. I’d never forgive myself.
“Are you okay?” I ask her and immediately cringe. She’s probably ready to duct tape my mouth shut for asking that question so many times.
“Fine.” She gives me a small smile, but it does nothing to alleviate my worries.
“Grace,” I probe, but she quickly shuts me down.
“I’m fine, Bennett.”
My teeth grind together. She’s most definitely not fine. I might be a guy, but I’m not an idiot, and I know when someone’s upset. We’re five minutes away from her house, definitely not enough time for a decent conversation, and they know we’re due there in a few minutes since she sent them a text. In other words, I can’t pull over and demand she talk to me. I’ll have to try to corner her later.
We pull into the driveway of a large two-story home. It’s decorated for the holidays with lights and greenery and what looks like Santa’s legs sticking out of the chimney.
Grace looks at me sheepishly. “My dad goes all out for Christmas.”
“Not your mom?” I ask.
“She likes the holidays, but my dad’s a bit … eccentric. It’s all or nothing with him.”
“Gotcha.” I nod, undoing my belt.
The front door opens, and a short, thin woman with dark hair the same color as Grace’s comes running out with open arms.
Grace gets out of the car and the woman—who I’m assuming is her mom—basically tackle hugs her. I get out of the car, trying not to laugh at the two of them.
“I missed you so much,” her mom says, swaying back and forth as she hugs Grace.
“Missed you too.” Grace’s voice is muffled against her mom’s shirt. They pull apart and Grace waves her hand toward me standing by the car. “This is Bennett.” I expect her mom to shake my hand, or stand and glare at me, but instead she comes barreling toward me and hugs me just as tight. Grace laughs. “And this is my mom, Olivia.”
Olivia releases me and looks me over. “You did good,” she tells Grace with a wink.
Grace’s cheeks flame and she hisses, “Mom.”
Something tells me the next three weeks are going to be fun.
Lots of fun.
Grace’s dad and older brother Dean are working, and her little brother is still in school, so for the next few hours, it’ll only be us. I’m okay with that. I’m not worried about her dad and brothers but I do want them to like me, but my gut says that’s doubtful. After all, Grace is the only girl, so of course they’re going to be protective. I doubt I can charm them, either—plus, I’m sure after the magazine debacles they’ve googled me and that definitely wouldn’t gain me any points with them. I’m just going to have to bide my time and see how things go.
Olivia shows me to one of the guestrooms—all the way down the hall from Grace’s room, might I add—and then I go back out to the car to carry our bags in while Grace and her mom catch up.
I still don’t understand why Grace packed so much stuff, but I guess girls need a lot of shit.
I bring her bags into her room. It’s just as girly as I expected and the color scheme matches what she has in her dorm with lots of white, gold, and blue. The floors are a shining hardwood and she has a fuzzy white monstrosity covering them. Grace and her damn rugs … and pillows. So many fucking pillows. Not only are they all over the bed but there’s even a pile of them on the floor to create a makeshift seating area. A chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling and illuminates the room. It’s prissy, that’s for sure. And big. Grace might’ve classified this house as normal but it’s still huge. I grew up in a small house that could fit inside this one three times.
I head back out to my car and grab my own bag. Before I can escape into the guestroom, Grace’s mom calls out, “Bennett, come join us in the kitchen.”
I sigh. I figured I’d get a chance to chill on my own for a while.
I drop my bag on the bed and turn around to go downstairs. All along the upstairs hallway are pictures of the entire family in various stages of life. My mom has a similar wall at home.
I meander through the house and into the kitchen. Grace and her mom sit at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies. It’s a magazine worthy picture. Especially the way Grace glows with happiness when speaking to her mom. When she hears me, however, she grows flushed and her hands shake nervously. My gut nosedives with fear that she regrets last night. I was scared of this—terrified that she’d regret losing her virginity to me. Now that we’re here, I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to ask her about it and I’m not very good at reading people.
“Have a seat, Bennett,” her mom says, pointing to the chair beside Grace. “The cookies are fresh out of the oven. Double chocolate chip, they’re Grace’s favorite,” she explains.
I pull out the chair and take a seat. I don’t really want a cookie but I take one anyway since it would be rude not to. I take a bite and it’s actually pretty damn good. Olivia smiles at me, pleased.
“So,” she starts, “you play hockey?”
I nod. “I’ve been benched so far this season, but yeah.”
She smiles and glances at Grace. “Grace said you’re training with the coach at the university.”
I nod again and finish the cookie, wiping the crumbs on my jeans. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“How’d you guys meet then?” she asks. “Grace,” she says in a jokingly disgusted tone, “won’t tell me and I’m curious.”
I shrug. “Bumped into each other on campus. Things kinda just happened from there.”
You know, the usual, I sweet-talked your daughter into pretending to be my girlfriend and then took her virginity.
Olivia frowns. “Oh, okay.”
Grace laughs. “Were you expecting something more climactic?”
Her mom purses her lips. “Well, yeah.”
Grace shakes her head, fighting a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Olivia turns to me. “So, are you from the Boston area?”
I nod. “Born and raised in the town over from the university.”
She nods. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“A sister,” I answer. “Sabrina. Speaking of,” I stand, “I better call her back. She’s been blowing up my phone all day.”
“Oh, of course.” Olivia waves me off. “Family comes first.”
“Thanks.” I smile at her and excuse myself from the room. I head upstairs and close the door to the guestroom. I sit on the end of the bed and call back Sabrina, praying to God that it’s nothing bad.
She answers with a clipped, “Hello?”
“Hey, you called?” Like fifty times.
“Mom said you won’t be home for Christmas and New Year’s.”
“That’s right.”
“Why?” she whines. “We always have Christmas as a family.”
I’m sure my mom told her that I’m with Grace for the holidays, but I play into her. “I’m with my girlfriend and her family.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Your girlfriend,” she repeats. “You’re spending the holidays with her family and we’ve never even met her. It’s not like we live far away, Bennett. We could’ve had a family dinner and we could’ve met her then.”
I sigh. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“That you’re a stupid fuck and you’ll introduce her to us when you get back.”
“I’ll introduce you to her when we get back,” I repeat.
She tsks. “You forgot the first part little brother.”
She says little brother like it’s meant to be an insult. I’d tell her to be more creative but I don’t want to argue with her. “Uh-huh, I’m a stupid fuck, Bina. We know this.”
She laughs. “Thanks. I’m going to miss you,” she says in a sad tone. “I think we’ve spent almost every Christmas together.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I won’t be there to help you burn those monstrosity of a pair of pajamas mom gets us every year.”
Sabrina laughs and I can tell it’s genuine. At least she’s feeling better about all of this. “She picks the ugliest ones on purpose, I swear.”
“What were they last year?”
“Leprechauns,” she giggles. “Not elves but leprechauns. Those might’ve been the best yet.”
The Game That Breaks Us Page 18
