Page 35 of Home to Me

Trying to squash this impulse and control her rapidly increasing breathing, she began to slowly extricate herself from Ben's side of the bed. She didn't want to wake him. She didn't want to suffer the embarrassment.

Just as she was almost free, she heard him whisper, “Don't feel that you have to do that on my account.”

She looked up at his face, stunned. Had he been awake the whole time? She was so shocked by the fact that he’d spoken at all, that she hadn't even registered his words.

“What?” she asked.

He smiled and reached down to stroke her hair. “I said don't do that on my account. I kind of liked things the way they were.”

Lauren froze. This was a moment of decision—she could feel it. It was a crossroads. Down one path, she could downplay his remark, act as if he had been joking, and then roll over and go back to sleep. Nothing would change between them. It was the safe bet.

Down the other path? Danger. But also, excitement.

After a moment's hesitation, she said, “Screw safe.”

He looked puzzled. “What?”

“Never mind.”

Lauren propped herself up on her elbow and lowered her head. She pressed her lips against his. She heard and felt a moan vibrate in his chest as his arms slipped around her, pulled her in tight to him, and rolled them over so that he was now above her.

Her lips parted and Ben immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue not just moving against hers, but massaging it erotically. She couldn't believe what an incredible kisser he was. He used his lips and tongue like brushes on a canvas, like they were engaged in a complicated dance, every movement filled with passion and skill.

Lauren drew in her breath, savoring all of the physical sensations—the penetration of his tongue into her mouth, his lips against hers—and how her body exploded with every touch. She felt butterflies in her belly, the tingling and hardening of her nipples, and an aching throb between her legs.

She whimpered with need. She didn't know how she would feel about this choice in the future, but as of right now, she was feeling very happy with her decision to go down the not-safe path.

She felt Ben's large hands start to roam all over her body, drawing even more whimpers from deep inside her throat. His hands were every bit as talented as his lips were, expert at knowing exactly the right pace to stroke her skin with, the perfect amount of pressure to apply, and the absolute right instant to move their attention to a different part of her hungry body.

Lauren liked the feeling of letting Ben set the pace of their encounter. She liked letting him take control. This was surprising to her. Not only did she never let anyone else take control of anything, but if she did, she certainly wouldn't just sit back and enjoy it.

But with Ben, it was an entirely different story. With Ben, she felt as if she had no more responsibility than to just relax and experience all of the pleasurable sensations he was bringing to her body. Moreover, she had no desire to have any more control than that.

Something inside of her, some voice she’d never heard before—or at least had never listened to before—was telling her that Ben was the one person she could finally trust. That she didn't have to control everything with Ben, that he was the first person she could be in a partnership with that was a true partnership—both people steering the ship together—because he was strong enough and smart enough to neither crash it nor attempt to wrestle control from her.

It was the most blissful feeling, this letting go. She felt as if she were floating in a lazy river during the middle of summer, no more responsibilities on her mind beyond simply staying afloat and relishing all of the sensations that were flooding her system.

It was a wonderful way to begin, and Lauren was enjoying it immensely, but this sense of comfortable—even luxurious, passivity—evaporated the instant that Ben slid his hand ever so smoothly beneath the waist of her tank top.

When Lauren felt his fingers like fire on the skin of her belly, she was engulfed in such a white-hot passion that the thought of merely lying back and letting Ben have his way with her became instantly as foreign as a faraway planet.

Suddenly, it seemed that she couldn't get close enough to him. She kissed him with increased fervor, her tongue moving desperately against his, her hands entangled in his hair, pulling him closer and closer.

She wrapped her long legs around his torso, needing to use every extremity to hold him tighter; anything to get closer to him. She just needed to be closer.

Ben tore his mouth from hers and began to place small, gentle kisses all over her face. He stroked her hair, sending sparks of electricity through her body, causing her to arch her back in pleading need.

As if in answer to her unspoken request, his hand moved farther up inside her tank top, tracing small curlicues on the delicate skin of her belly as he moved upward.

Lauren wanted to tell him, wanted to say out loud, that she loved this, that it was amazing, that she'd never felt this free and unfettered with any man in her life, that she wanted him to continue touching her, continue kissing her, exactly the way he was... but she couldn't manage to form any of those sentiments into coherent sentences. All she could gasp was, “Yes.”

Still, even though Lauren was too drunk with arousal to be able to articulate all of the thoughts that were ricocheting around in her mind like pinballs, Ben seemed to understand what she wanted and what she needed.

In one swift motion, he pulled off her tank top, leaving her completely naked above the waist. Lauren sucked in a breath as the air hit her already hardened and sensitive nipples.

She arched her back, urging him without words to touch her breasts, to play with her aching, beaded knots of flesh.

He complied, lowering his head to take first one nipple in his mouth and then the other. He swirled his tongue around each hot nub, inspiring her to fly to even greater heights of ecstasy.

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