Page 131 of If Only In Our Dreams

I would memorize Ben’s moles, memorize the cowlick on the top of his head, memorize the sounds he made when he finally, blissfully lost control. I’d keep him safe inside my heart beside all my darkest secrets. Because Ben had proven to me that he was far more precious than all the things that made me brittle, and it was as he pressed one more final kiss against my sternum that I realized I cared about him more.

Cared about him more than my carefully guarded heart.

Cared more about him than protecting myself.

Cared more about him than I cared about myself.

“Lift up,” Ben’s lips skimmed my throat as his fingers found my zipper and tugged it down. I did as I was told—because duh, when Ben tells you to lift up you fucking lift up. He wiggled my pants down, pausing for a second, a sharp exhale escaping him. “Robin,” his voice was a low growl.

“Surpriiiise,” I replied, heart skipping a beat.

Ben’s fingers fanned along the lace that hugged my hips, a quiet groan escaping him. “IknewI liked your surprises,” he murmured, an almost reverent tone to his voice. When I glanced down I nearly came. Because the juxtaposition of Ben’s big asshands on my hips, paired with my cock, pressing insistently against see-through black lace?—

“Didn’t want to disappoint you,” I replied, going for teasing.

“You couldn’t,” Ben hummed like it was a fact. “Not even if you tried.”

And then he was sinking that delicious mouth down, placing greedy, wet kisses along my hip bones. His tongue flickered out to taste the lace and my head fell back. Flick, flick, Ben worked his way down toward my dick.

When his mouth closed around the tip I moaned, spreading my legs as far as they could spread, while still trapped by my jeans. It was the immobility that kinda did me in, actually. Because I couldn’t fucking move and that was…Jesus, that was hot.

“Ben,” my voice cracked right down the middle. “Ben,please.”

His mouth slipped off my cock and he made this adorable grumpy sound, like I was pissing him off by taking my dick away.

“I’m stuck.”

“I know,” Ben laughed, biting my hip almost punishingly, before he ripped my pants off so fucking fast it felt like a magic trick. When I could spread wide, I groaned again, my balls pulled snug against the lace as Ben dropped his head back to my cock and suckled at it through the fabric. Already the panties felt sticky.

Hell, if I was being honest, they’d been sticky since the first time Ben had kissed me against the glass. He made these happy little growly sounds, like the flavor of my cum pleased him. It was honestly fucking filthy. The way he slurped through the fabric, flicking his tongue to catch every drop.

By the time he pulled my panties off, they were soaked through, and my dick was aching.

“How do you want this?” he asked, voice low as he wiggled back to gently extricate the panties from my ankles. They looked impossibly small in his hands.

“Let’s go vanilla,” I replied. “Wanna see your kinky-ass face.”

“Ass-face?” Ben teasingly arched an eyebrow, and I laughed—only that laughter died pretty damn quick, because when my gaze fell to Ben’s cock again, I was gifted with the fucking obscene sight of him fisting my panties around it and giving it a long, lingering stroke.

A drop of cum pooled at the tip of his dick, leaking onto the fabric and mixing with his spit.

“Jesus fuck,” I whimpered, my dick twitching, and my hole clenching around nothing.

“Missionary it is,” Ben hummed. “To start.”

“To start?” I echoed, still staring at his dick. Staring at how fucking huge it looked, the strappy lace of my panties wrapped around it. He stroked again, and I felt electrified, ready to do just about anything to feel that dick inside me.

“If you think I’m only fucking you once tonight you are about to get a surprise of your own.”

I laughed, though it was really more of a moan.

I reached down, legs pushing up toward my chest, my fingers spreading my cheeks to give Ben a flash of where I wanted him most. “Are you gonna fuck my bussy, Ben Ben?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ben replied, fisting his cock again as he laughed—my jokes obviously doing it for him.

He pulled the panties off his dick and flicked them at my face. I snorted, batting them away, though I was quickly distracted as the quiet click of the lube opening echoed through the room. It was like fucking Pavlov’s dog or some shit, because that sound immediately made my hole twitch, and my balls draw up tight.

Ben leaned over me, the length of his body pressing into mine as he leaned on one elbow—somehow able to supporthimself entirely on the single arm as his other hand slip-slid between my cheeks. Slow and searching, he gave my hole an exploratory rub.

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