Page 97 of The Rules
Ben hissed through his teeth, his hands tightening on her hips. He was letting her explore, letting her take control—for now. But Katherine could feel the restraint in his grip, the promise of what would happen when that control finally snapped.
She slid from his lap, kneeling between his legs. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for his belt, unbuckling it with a metallic clink that seemed too loud in the quiet room.
She tugged at his waistband, ready to free him.
But his hand caught her wrist, stopping her.
"You sure?" His voice was low, rough, but there was something else there—a question that went deeper than just this moment.
Katherine looked up at him, her chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. She felt utterly exposed, utterly bare before him—and not just physically. She'd never wanted anything more in her life than she wanted him right now.
She rose up, pressing her lips to his jaw, then his cheek, then finally capturing his mouth in a kiss that left no room for doubt.
"There's nothing I want more," she whispered against his lips.
She watched as something shifted in Ben's eyes—a flash of raw hunger replacing the careful control he'd maintained.
His restraint vanished, crumbling before her like a dam finally giving way to the flood.
She freed him from his pants, her breath catching as his cock sprang forth—thick, hot, and heavy in her palm. Katherine wrapped her fingers around him, feeling him pulse against her skin as she stroked once, then twice.
The feel of him—velvety heat over iron strength—sent a jolt straight to her core, her pussy clenching around nothing, aching for more.
Ben groaned, his head tipping back, throat exposed as pleasure overtook him. His grip on the chair tightened, tendons straining beneath his skin as if anchoring himself to the moment.
Katherine couldn't look away. She never imagined she could have this kind of effect on him—on Ben Sinclair of all people—and the realization stole her breath. She watched the tension ripple through his body, the way his jaw flexed, the way his breath stuttered. Her palm tightened around him, and for a moment, all she could think was how it would feel to have himinside her—thick, hard, stretching her open. The thought hit like a lightning strike, primal and overwhelming, making her hips shift involuntarily as her own arousal deepened, throbbing with anticipation.
She rose then, her decision made. Katherine climbed back into his lap, one thigh at a time, her movements deliberate and torturous. Her hands braced against his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath her fingertips. The position left her completely exposed to him, her wetness evident as she hovered above him.
The head of his cock slid through her slick folds—slow, teasing—not yet entering her but promising everything. The contact sent electricity racing up her spine, making her gasp.
His hands trembled against her hips, his control hanging by the thinnest thread as he fought not to thrust up into her.
"Fuck..." he breathed, the word wrecked and breathless, like it had been torn from somewhere deep inside him.
Katherine watched as he reached toward his coat, his movements still precise, even now. The condom—of course. Even lost in heat, he was thinking ahead. Protective. Attentive. The thought sent a flicker of warmth through her chest.
He hadn’t forgotten. Not her. Not this.
Something inside her rebelled against it. Not tonight. Tonight wasn't about caution or control. Tonight was about forgetting everything except this—except him.
She caught his wrist, her fingers wrapping around warm skin and solid bone. She shook her head slowly, her eyes locked on his.
Katherine watched as he reached toward his coat, his movements still precise, even now. The condom—of course. Even lost in heat, he was thinking ahead. Protective. Attentive. The thought sent a flicker of warmth through her chest.
He hadn’t forgotten. Not her. Not this.
Something inside her rebelled against it. Not tonight. Tonight wasn't about caution or control. Tonight was about forgetting everything except this—except him.
She caught his wrist, her fingers wrapping around warm skin and solid bone. She shook her head slowly, her eyes locked on his.
"I'm on the pill," she said softly, her voice certain as she ground against him, feeling his hardness slide against her slick heat. "You don't need it."
Ben froze. One breath caught in his throat as she watched the war play out across his face. Torn between logic and lust. Between caution and trust.
And then she rolled her hips—slow, deliberate, a silent dare.
And Ben broke.
