Page 112 of Carbon

He burst into laughter. “You remembered?”

I did, and I felt extraordinarily proud. And my hand couldn’t help wandering back to the object of my affections. The shaft was a contradiction as I stroked it, an oxymoron if you like—so velvety smooth yet so hard at the same time. A drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip, and I smoothed it around the head with my thumb.

With my eyes closed, I became Midnight’s girl again. The one emboldened by the dark, eager to try all the things she’d read about but never experienced. Barely thinking, I stuck my thumb in my mouth and tasted him. His salty, sweet, earthy taste tingled on my tongue, and I wanted more. No, I wanted everything.

“Gus, I don’t have a condom.”

“I found a box in the nightstand drawer. I’m sure nobody will mind if we borrow one.”

Okay, three. Ben flipped me onto my back first, and shattered me twice before his release warmed my insides. Then he helped me on top of him, where the sight of him underneath me as I found a rhythm and his hands gripping my hips as I rose and fell gave me the hardest, most delicious orgasm of my life.

“I’m a sweaty mess,” I whispered afterwards.

“Wrong. You need to modify that sentence. Try ‘I’m a sexy sweaty mess.’ Or ‘I’m your sexy sweaty mess.’ Or maybe ‘I’m your sexy hot mess.’”

“All of the above.”

“In that case, we should take a shower.”

“Together?”

“Dirty girls need help washing.”

I rolled out of bed right away, a testament to just how filthy I was feeling. “What are you waiting for?”

“Bloody hell, you’re hornier than I ever dreamed you’d be.”

Him too. We got as far as the bathroom vanity, where I made the mistake of pausing to glance in the mirror. My hair was wild, and what was that on my neck? A bite mark? I bent forward to take a closer look, and Ben took full advantage of the position, pinning me in place with his hips as he traced my jawline with the tip of his tongue.

“On second thoughts, maybe we’ll do it here. I like the idea of watching you watch me.”

I gasped as he pushed inside me and grasped the marble edge of the vanity as he began to thrust. The image of him cupping my breast to suck on the nipple was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. Move overFifty Shades of Grey—Ben beat Christian hands down, quite literally, as his fingers skated over my stomach in search of mychatte.

A couple of rough strokes was all it took before I collapsed forward and almost knocked myself out on the mixer tap. Only Ben’s quick thinking and quicker arms saved me.

“Careful, beautiful. I don’t want another trip to the hospital this week.”

“Sorry. Brain broken.”

He silenced me with a kiss as he thrust harder, harder, then squeezed me tight against him as he came. We both stood there, staring at our reflections as our souls came back to our bodies. I certainly wasn’t red-carpet ready, but it didn’t matter. From my pink-tinged cheeks to my pert nipples to the gorgeous man pressed up against me, I’d never felt more beautiful in my life.

Ben lifted me into the shower. Whoever designed the house either had geriatrics or bathroom sex in mind because the double-width cubicle came complete with a seat at one end and several sturdy grab-rails. I tested the strength of one and looked at Ben hopefully.

“Nothing left in the tank,mon cœur. You’ll have to give me a few minutes.”

He sank onto the seat and groaned as he leaned back against the tile.

“I’m a little sore as well.”

“Fuck. Did I hurt you?”

“No! I just feel...used, but in a good way.”

“We need to take it gently.”

“No, we don’t. I can’t get enough of you, and I don’t care if I feel tender.”

“But I do. Let’s try something else instead.”

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