Page 60 of Her Ex's Father
“If we had time,” he murmurs, reaching up to ghost his fingers over the pins holding my hair together, “I’d undo all this. Undress you. Makeyoucome undone right here, until you understand just how turned on I am by you, Maddie Bronson.”
“Ben,” I half-whisper, half-plead, leaning further back as he gets to his knees. His green eyes are dark as he stares up at me, one hand palming his erection and stroking it slowly.
The other wraps around my calf, keeping my legs parted.
His gaze drops, staring at my pussy—or rather, the barely-there thong that I’m cursed to wear with this dress, though my fuzzy mind is grateful now that I didn’t have the chance to throw on cotton briefs or something embarrassing and comfortable.
“At night,” he continues in a dark voice, “with you curled up against me, it’s so hard not to take you from behind. To make you come on my fingers, wake up with an orgasm shaking every inch of your body.”
“Why haven’t you done that?” The words come out almost a whine, a frown creasing my brow and drawing a breathy laugh from Ben. His hand climbs higher, fingers brushing my inner thigh.
“You need your rest, Maddie, and you already have a hard time falling asleep. I don’t want to make itharder.”
On the last word, he gives his cock another decisive tug, and at this point I’m sure the trousers are about to be ruined. My breath catches, tongue darting out to wet my lips, as I confess: “I can’t sleep because I’m thinking aboutyou.Doing all those things to me.”
There’s conversation somewhere, out beyond our suite; voices talking casually, lightly. Probably Caroline and one of Ben’s servants. He stands, adjusts himself, and holds out a hand to help me slide off the dresser. His eyes linger as my own hands run over my curves again, trying to erase any hint of how close we almost came to burning this closet down.
“Later tonight,” Benedict says, voice roughened with promise, “I’ll show you exactly how much I like seeing you like this. Exactly how proud I am of you.”
My body shudders with want, the words sinking deep. But somewhere beneath the rush of heat, guilt pricks sharp and cold.
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know about Jack. About the marriage that makes me not who he thinks I am.
I press a hand to his chest, more for balance than resistance. His heart thuds steady under my palm, strong and sure. “We… we should go,” I manage, though every nerve in me screams to pull him closer instead. This is what I want, but it feels like something I can’t have—my own husband.
Happiness.
Benedict searches my face, like he can sense the battle. Then he smiles faintly, wickedly, and presses a quick, searing kiss to my mouth. “Dinner first. Later… mine.”
The word coils through me like a brand.
By the time we leave the house, my skin is still tingling. Caroline and Leo are already waiting in the car. Caroline lifts one arched brow as Ben helps me into the passenger seat, his hand lingering on my waist just long enough to be noticeable. She doesn’t comment—thank God—but her smirk says she’s cataloging every detail for ammunition later.
I wonder what they talk about behind the closed door of Ben’s study. I know Caroline comes sometimes, usually at night, and sits across the desk from him. Is it just business? She does have a place in Bronson Hall, even if her father, as I’ve heard, didn’t want anything to do with her after the pregnancy.
The disgrace that Caroline went through, as well as her involvement in the family company being overlooked and thankless, sends a pang of fondness through my chest. Ifanyonehere gets me, it’s her, and she lets me know that by reaching forward from the back seat and squeezing my hand.
The drive winds us through Aspen’s darker streets until the houses grow larger, estates glittering with light behind wrought-iron gates. Ben hasn’t joined these dinners in months, and I can feel the tension in him, the way his hand flexes against his knee, the restless set of his jaw.
“Did you miss it?” I ask softly, leaning closer. “Dinner with your friends?”
He glances at me, lips pressed, then nods. “Joseph and Ann hosted long before I was married to Georgiana. After she passed, they insisted on keeping me involved. I’ve skipped lately. Too many… complications.”
“Like marrying me.”
His hand shifts, finding mine, squeezing firmly. “Like Derrick disappearing, yes. But no. Not like marrying you.”
I don’t know what to say to that. So, I stay quiet, letting the city fade into shadow.
From the backseat, Caroline chides lightly, “Leo, get off your phone please. We need to be polite.”
The sixteen-year-old snorts, but the flickering light I can see in the rearview goes out. “Why?” he asks with a sigh. “They don’t even like you.”
For a moment, the car feels tense. But Ben doesn’t even glance in the backseat; doesn’t bother reassuring his sister. Caroline sits up straighter, pushes her shoulders back.
“It doesn’t matter if they like me, Leo. The best way to get back at someone is to behappy.”
I bite my lip, but the question still slips out: “Areyou happy?”
