by Debra Glass
He swallowed and his gaze lifted to hers.
“Why would you risk your soul for this?” She instantly regretted asking such a question.
“Because for the first time in my whole damned existence I feel real. Because you make me feel like a man.”
Total, encompassing love for him surged straight to her heart. She stared, eyes wide. This could not be happening. This was more than infatuation now. This was more than being in love.
A shiver swept up Jillian’s spine despite the heat in Benton’s smoldering gaze. She didn’t want him to leave. Ever. She blinked in an effort to check threatening tears.
“Darlin’ I don’t know what’s over there. I don’t know what to expect. But what I do know is heaven can’t be any better than what I feel when I’m in your arms.”
Jillian’s heart turned over. Hard.
His sensuous lips curved into a smile as he tugged at the tie of her robe. “Let me make love to you,” he said again. “Now. One more time.” He nuzzled her neck and then his mouth found her ear. Warm. Soft. Insistent. “I want to love you, Jillian.” She melted against him. And then he said, “I do love you.”
Jillian’s mouth went bone dry. Her knees went weak. Everything was spiraling out of control and she couldn’t muster the courage to stop it. Benton wanted her. Benton loved her.
His hands slid inside her robe, around her, pulling her freshly exposed body against him. The swollen, wet shaft of his cock nudged her belly. Desire unfurled inside her.
This couldn’t be happening.
One of his hands slipped between their bodies, where his fingers prodded and probed the slick wetness between her thighs. One found its way inside her pussy, where he searched and discovered that special spot that made her cream. Her head fell back as she gave him greater access to her neck. She heard herself moan.
“I want to make you come this way,” he purred. “With my fingers.”
Jillian started to spread her legs for him but he suddenly withdrew his hand and before she could protest, he spun her around and bent her over. Her palms found the mattress as he whipped the robe up to expose her ass.
“What are you doing?” Her voice rose slightly.
“What I promised.”
Jillian’s body tightened.
“Spread your legs, darlin’.”
Her heart hammered.
Warm fingers trailed up the back of her thigh and brushed the cleft of her ass. “Spread ’em.” This time, it was a command.
Jillian inched her legs apart, knowing she was thoroughly exposed. Her pussy clenched with anticipation.
Benton voiced his approval as he sank to his knees.
She could feel his hot breath fanning the back of one thigh. He could see everything. Her pulse throbbed in her temples.
And then she felt a warm, warm kiss pressed against her gaping pussy. She sighed and instinctively pushed back against his mouth. His tongue laved her cunt and Jillian trembled. It felt so good. She spread her thighs wider and then she felt a finger push inside her hole.
She quivered and tightened around it.
“How come you’re so wet?” he teased.
Jillian swallowed. She clutched at the covers.
“How come, darlin’?” His drawl was like silk.
“Because your finger’s in my pussy,” she purred.
He withdrew the finger and Jillian’s breath froze as she felt it slide upward to circle her anus. He slowly rose to his feet. “As I recall, you’re fond of having a finger in here too.”
Jillian couldn’t breathe. Part of her wanted him to slide his finger or more into that tight little hole. Another part of her denied she could possibly like that—but she knew that part of her was lying.
She shifted restlessly.
The fingertip slipped down to her drenched pussy again and then slathered the cream around her anus, pushing its way slowly inside. Jillian jerked but Benton’s other hand splayed across the small of her back, holding her in place as his finger slid all the way inside her.
She groaned, reveling in the mixture of pleasure and pain that curiously made her want more. She dropped to one elbow and braced herself as she found her hard, throbbing clit with her other hand. She rubbed herself furiously as Benton’s finger assaulted her anus, thrusting in and out of her. She’d grown wet there too and was surprised at how good it felt.
The mingling sensations of masturbating herself and his finger fucking her ass crested and she gnawed on her clenched fist as she felt her body spasm. Her knees buckled and she crumpled against the bed as his hand followed her and wrested a mindshattering orgasm from her.
A sob tore from her throat as she twisted away from him and onto her back. Although her passion was assuaged, Jillian was certain Benton had to go into the Light as soon as possible. And as much as she loved him, as much as she wanted this—wanted more—she knew it couldn’t continue.
Chapter Seventeen
Jillian wanted nothing more than to succumb to Benton’s kisses, to his words of love and lust. But she could not. She would not.
Breathless and flushed with desire, she pushed herself off the bed. He reached for her but she tore herself away from him. “No,” she breathed the word.
He made an attempt to draw her to him again. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered and pushed his hands away.
Undaunted, he reached for her.
“I said no!” This time he stopped.
Grief flashed in his dove gray eyes. He stared for a long time.
Jillian batted a tear away as she belted her robe. “Benton, we can’t do this. I can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“Dammit, Benton! You’re dead. Dead! Don’t you realize that? This is not…it’s not natural. It’s wrong. You’ve got to go to the Light and, as much as I would love to spend the rest of my life with you…” All her emotions came pouring out in a long uncontrollable torrent. She went on. “I couldn’t bear it if the soul collectors took you.” She swallowed. “What would happen to me then? What will happen to me when I die?” A sob wrenched from her throat. “I love you, body and soul, and I couldn’t stand the thought of spending eternity without you.” Her whole body trembled uncontrollably.
He stared. He seemed shocked by her pain—and even more shocked by her baldfaced declaration.
Another tear coursed down her cheek. She swiped it again. “I don’t want you to go, Benton. But I need you to go.”
His broad shoulders rose and fell with a breath of deep resignation. He moved closer and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I know, Jillian. I know.” She heard him swallow. “I’m being offered heaven so why do I feel like a man condemned?”
Jillian closed her eyes and breathed in the masculine scent of him. She reveled in the strength of his arms and in the knowledge of his love for her. He held her that way until, outside, the sun descended and the room was bathed in blue twilight.
Finally, his index finger caught her chin and he tilted her face up to his. His gaze was warm, compassionate, thick with emotion. “If I’ve got to leave you,” he drawled, “then I want to spend the rest of the night in this bed with you.”
Jillian stared. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst inside her chest. She was so full of love for him her body could no longer contain it. Tears welled in her eyes.
Benton’s thumb slid up and tenderly brushed the dampness from the corner of her eye. “Don’t cry, darlin’.” His voice was whisper soft. “I need you to be strong for me.” His mouth descended on hers in a tender kiss. Jillian couldn’t help but respond. She felt him trembling but then, so was she.
He took her face in his palms and his kiss deepened. It was endless and resolute and thoroughly, utterly complete.
Jillian unbelted her robe and shrugged it off her shoulders. It slid into a pool around her ankles. His palms moved over her body, rubbing, cupping, touching every inch of her skin.
She lifted her gaze to his. “I want you naked.”
A devastating smile claimed his lips. The dimples at the corners of his mouth deepened seductively. He undressed in record in time. She admired his perfectly sculpted body and then she grasped his shoulders and dragged him down to the bed with her. He lay on top of her, his gaze locked with hers. “You are so, so beautiful.”
A blush infused her cheeks.
His mouth claimed hers in a tender, soft kiss. How could he be so passionate one moment and so affectionate the next? The two very different sides of his sensuality sent little curls of pleasure spiraling downward.
He was deep in her mouth. She wanted him deep in her pussy. “Benton, please…”
His gaze locked with hers as he settled himself over her body. She was foolish to let this continue—but she couldn’t resist him. He was poised over her with his thick, engorged cock, ready to take her with fire smoldering in his eyes. She could almost come just looking at him and she’d be damned but she could just about forget anything in the heat of making love to him—even the fact that his spirit would soon be whisked away.
His hand crept between their bodies and possessively cupped her mound.
“Please…” she whimpered again. She bucked upward.
His gaze caught hers. A tear seeped out of the corner of her eye and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
A muscle in his throat clenched. “I love you, darlin’. You know that, don’t you?”
She bit down harder on her lips and managed a jerky nod.
A sad smile tugged on his lips and he slanted his head to kiss away the tear that coursed from her eye down toward her hair.
“Open your legs for me, darlin’,” he whispered against her ear.
Immediately, her thighs flew open and she felt the bulbous head of his cock searching and prodding and then finding her hole.
She bit back a sob as he entered her.
Her hands roamed over his back and she could feel his power and strength. She wanted him to pound her until she begged for mercy but he didn’t. Not this time.
This time, he made love to her slowly, withdrawing inch by pulsating inch of his thick cock and then deliberately thrusting it into her again—a long, slow slide that made her undulate underneath him. She arched and pressed her clit against that place where his penis joined his body.
His hand moved underneath her to cup her ass and he lifted her against him, holding her up so that his body ground hers right where she wanted it. Jillian hooked her legs around his. The muscles in her thighs burned. Faster. Why wouldn’t he fuck her faster?
She whimpered and it was all the impetus he needed to buck into her. She rolled against him, clinging, begging, crying—wanting him to bring her over the edge again and again.
Finally, her pussy contracted and a wave unfurled within her that crested slowly only to crash violently, leaving her boneless and floating on some otherworldly plane.
Still inside her, still kissing her face, her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips, he tenderly continued to make love to her, while Jillian tried not to think about him leaving. But so many questions darted through her thoughts. Would he still remember her on the Other Side? Would he still love her when they met again when it was her time? Would he even know her?
* * * * *
Much later, when they were both breathless and sated, she lay in his arms, memorizing every solid inch of him, relishing the feel of his hard body beneath her palms. But then, their gazes would fuse and he would take her all over again.
Long after midnight, she lay under the covers on her side of the bed, spooned against him. His arms and legs were entwined possessively around her. His warm, soft breath fanned the back of her neck. Drowsy, she struggled to stay awake but her eyelids felt heavy. Her whole body felt drained and sore and raw. He lay so still she wondered if he was sleeping but she was too tired to turn over.
The past few days had taken their toll on her. A shudder swept through her when she recalled the feel of the sword plunging into Lynn Bowers’ hulking body but Benton pulled her closer and she felt safe and protected and loved. She took a deep, deep breath and blew it out slowly. She had become resigned to the fact that he had to leave her—to move into the Light. Especially after she’d witnessed exactly what kind of power the soul collectors could wield over a spirit. They had dragged Lynn’s soul down into the hellish depths. The idea of Benton meeting a similar fate was unthinkable. No, she would much rather know his soul was safe even if it meant she wouldn’t see him again in this lifetime—even if it meant she would never see him again.
She loved him that much.
A hard lump welled in her throat.
How would she ever make it through life without him? She’d counseled countless people with grief issues. And she knew from listening to their experiences, the old adage that time healed everything was wrong. Time healed nothing.
She turned over and faced Benton. His eyes were open. She forced a tiny smile. “Can’t sleep?”
“Won’t sleep.”
Looking at him in the moonlight, she realized she’d come a long, long way from that little girl who was afraid of ghosts standing beside her bed in the night. Now, she had a ghost in the bed with her. And then, as if something snapped inside her, she realized that her fear had never been of the ghosts at all. She was afraid because of the terror and sense of abandonment she’d felt when her mother had died—when her mother’s spirit had come into her and Amy’s room—when Amy had joyously sent her to the Light while Jillian lay heartbroken and scared.
Now it was happening again.
But this time, the stakes were different. She wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman in love, who was facing the imminent fact that the man she loved was going to be swept away into the Light and she would never see him, touch him, feel him or make love to him again.
Her heart felt like a hard knot in her chest.
Benton’s gaze swept her face. He brushed a palm over her hair. “I love the way your dark hair looks against the white of the pillowcase.”
She smiled and fingered the little triangular beard under his bottom lip. “You know, these are back in style but only rock stars wear them.”
“Rock stars?” His brow creased.
She laughed. “Musicians.”
He rubbed it in thought. “I assumed it made me look older. I was only twenty-two when I was made colonel of our company and twenty-four when I received my commission as brigadier.”
“Wow. That’s an amazing accomplishment at such a young age.”
He laughed. It was a warm, rich sound. “Not really, darlin’. All the older officers got killed off.”
“Do you ever regret fighting?” She ran her fingertip along the well-defined, hard line of his jaw.
“Regret it? I didn’t have the luxury of regret. Fighting was the thing to do. It was a matter of honor.”
Honor. It was something Jillian could not comprehend. The only thing to which she could compare it was a sense of self-respect. It was also something she felt was not open to discussion with him. She changed the subject. “So, how do women now compare to women of your time?”
His dimples deepened. “The only difference I’ve noted is that women not only act like they wear britches, they do wear britches.”
This time, it was Jillian’s turn to laugh.
“But don’t misunderstand me. I like the way you look in ’em.” His smile faded. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.” He traced one of her eyebrows. “And your eyes turn a dark shade of green, like the color of moss on creek stones when you’re…aroused.” The gray in his eyes smoldered. Jillian had already seen that look three times since they’d gotten in the bed but her body reacted the same way to seeing it a fourth. Her already-aching clitoris swelled. She shifted beneath the sheets and reached for him.
He inhaled sharply. His cock was already hard. She gasped. A twinge of surprise passed through her. Had he been like this when he was alive or was his hearty libido a by-product of being alone for so many years?
Jillian, however, could not mistake what animated her sudden passion. It was love. Pure and simple. She loved him. She loved everything about him. And knowing he would soon be gone from her forever made her want him that much more.
Disappearing under the covers, she kissed her way down his chest to his navel. His stomach tightened at her touch. He threw the covers back, exposing them both. Jillian smiled as he propped himself up on two pillows to get a better view.
She brushed her lips against his rock-hard arousal. “Do you like it when I do this?”
He swallowed. “Yes,” he murmured huskily.
Brazenly keeping eye contact with him, she ran her tongue down the length, all the way to the base and then back up again. “What about that, Benton? Do you like that?” Her voice was low, seductive.
“Yes.” His brow furrowed. He looked expectant. Impatient. He rocked his hips upward slightly.
Grazing the head of his cock with her lips once more, she looked into his eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
The breath left his body in a rush. “More of that.”
She gave him a half smile. “Tell me, Benton. More of what?” She pressed a teasing kiss to the swollen, plum-colored tip.
His fingers burrowed into the hair at the nape of her neck and he nudged her head downward. She resisted. “Oh no.” She shook her head and smiled. “You have to tell me what you want.”
Obviously debating, he bit his bottom lip. His gaze sizzled. He throbbed in her hand. A groan tore from his parted lips. “I want you to put my cock in your mouth.” He enunciated every word, leaving her with no doubt as to what he wanted. “And then I want you to climb up here and plant that hot little cunny of yours on it and ride me.”
Jillian gasped. She’d never been shocked by a man’s words—until now. She stared.
