Page 52 of Trial Run

She pulled her mouth away from his, out of breath. “Ben. Take me inside.”

His eyes glittered down at her. “And what will I do with you inside?”

She turned in his arms, facing him. “Have me. If you want me.”

He set his jaw, grabbed her hand, and led her back up the path toward the house. She didn’t bother to retie the neck of her dress, and the cool night air stirred against her bare torso, transforming her into a fairy, another creature of the garden at night.

Once they were inside, Ben went straight up the staircase, still holding her hand. He led her down the hallway to his bedroom, where a king-size bed with a heavy oak frame dominated the space, piled high with navy and cream bedding.

He flicked on the bedside lamp and sat on the end of the bed, pulling her so she stood between his knees. He shoved a hand through his hair, gaze hot as it raked over her form, naked to the waist.

“I could look at you all day.” His voice was mostly gravel. “I’m halfway convinced you’ll disappear as soon as I touch you again. Maybe I’m imagining this.”

She brushed a thumb over his mouth, loving the way his breath hitched in response.

“You’re not imagining it. Please, touch me again.”

He swallowed. “Birth control?”

“I haven’t been with anyone in six years, and I’ve been tested. And I can’t get pregnant. So we don’t have to use a condom, if you don’t want to.”

His eyes darkened. “It’s been a while for me, too. And I was tested a year ago.”

“Good.” She crushed her mouth down on his. His hands came up to her waist, tugging at the dress until it dropped to the floor. She stepped out of it, now wearing only her tiniest pair of black silk underwear.

His mouth roamed over her stomach, pressing kisses in a line from one hipbone to the other. He palmed her hips, pulling her closer. The movement pulled her off balance, and she braced her arms on his shoulders.

He gave another tug, pulling her down onto his lap until she straddled him, and she kissed him some more, urgency taking over her body.

She worked open the buttons of his shirt with frantic fingers, not recognizing herself. In the past, sex had been a series of motions to go through to please her partner, and she could follow the routine almost without paying attention. But this was different. She was fully present, and she needed more, and now.

She tried to push his shirt off, but the fabric got stuck on his wrists at the cuffs, and she abandoned the garment, her hands too eager to explore. His torso was hot and smooth, leanly muscled, broad at the shoulders, and dusted with lots of dark hair that narrowed to a trail at his waist. The muscles under her palms jumped at her touch. He watched her touching him for a moment, his chest heaving, before stopping her with a hand on her wrist.

“Wait.” He drew back and eased her off his lap, onto the bed, and she leaned back on her elbows, watching him. He stood and peeled his shirt the rest of the way off with unsteady hands. His fingers stilled when they got to the button of his pants. He stared down at her for a long moment, eyes glittering hot.

“I wish you could see yourself.” He discarded his pants and stood facing her in his black boxer briefs, which strained with an impressive erection. “You’re amazing.”

“Come here.” She held out an arm to him and he lowered himself onto the bed beside her. His face was inches from hers, and he reached up a hand to cup the side of her face. The look in his eyes held enough tenderness to drown in. She was dying for him to kiss her again, but he didn’t.

“Tell me what you like. So I can give it to you.” His whispered words made her shiver.

No one had ever asked her that, and no answer came to mind. She liked everything they’d done so far, and that was as much as she knew.

“I don’t know. But don’t stop.” She made a little sound of frustration as she reached for him.

“Hmm. Let’s see if we can figure it out.” He bypassed her mouth and went back to kissing her neck and stroking her breasts, his torso still resting between her legs. When she was squirming and pushing up against him, wordlessly begging for more, his hand slid to the apex of her thighs, rubbing her through the silk, back and forth.

His touch was gentle, exploring at first. He followed her responses, figuring out what made her gasp and shiver. Then his fingers grew more confident, touching her in a way that felt exactly right and brand new at the same time, until her fingers curled into his shoulders and tension coiled inside her, unbearably tight and hot.

Ben didn’t let her mentally check out. He kept her with him, taking her apart piece by piece, pulling more and deeper sensations out of her. She was dissolving from the inside out, and she needed more, just the smallest push to go over the edge.

His fingers slid under the silk and stroked her once, twice with perfect pressure. Her body arched back, and the first wave of pleasure detonated. It went on and on, leaving her wrecked. She stared up at him, flushed and dazed.

“That’s one thing you like.” He lowered his mouth to hers for a lazy, soft kiss. Beneath the gentleness of his mouth, she could feel the tension in him, the fine shaking in the muscles of his shoulders. After a minute, he was breathing harder, kissing her with more urgency.

She reached down and slid her underwear down her legs, and he tracked the movement hotly. He stood and pushed down his boxer briefs, and she only had a moment to admire his naked form before he was back over her, sliding a hand under her hips to tilt her up for him.

“Tell me if it’s too much. Or if you want to stop. But I have to—”

---