“You are so beautiful,” he says in awe. His eyes travel over every inch of me. His hands skim over my skin, worshipfully.
I’ve never considered myself beautiful. Cute, pretty, but beautiful is not something I feel that I am. I’m sure every woman he’s ever been with was beautiful. Look at him.
Sometimes when he looks at me, there is such an intense possessiveness in his eyes. That look affects me more than his words do. That raw need I see as he stares at me is foreplay of the most profound kind. It’s not frantic kissing, or hands desperately removing clothing, or getting to the actual act just to satisfy that physical need. This is so much more. This is slow, deliberate, and meaningful. If I had any doubts he just wanted sex, they are now nowhere to be found. This man above me wants so much more than sex. He wants me, in every way.
I can see it in his eyes.
The realization causes my eyes to tear with emotion. One escapes, and he watches it roll down my cheek before he gently wipes it away.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, concern now replacing the heat I saw a few moments ago. “We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”
I nod my head confidently. “I’m ready.”
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m scared? But I think it’s because I want this moment to never end.”
He furrows his brow before responding, “Me, too.”
Is he also scared, or doesn’t want it to end? Either way, it doesn’t matter.
He separates from me to grab a condom from his end table. I watch mesmerized as he holds himself and stretches the latex over his length. It’s happening, and my anxiousness takes on a life of its own.
He aligns himself above me from head to toe. His hands frame my face, holding me hostage to the expression in his eyes that he obviously wants me to see. He wants me to witness the emotions he’s feeling. I don’t have a choice but to stare straight into his beautiful brown eyes.
He resumes kissing me slowly. The need to have him inside me causes me to shift closer. He follows my lead and moves his hips until we are completely aligned. Our eyes align, and I can see words he doesn’t speak call out to me. Our hearts align, and I can feel them beating simultaneously. Our sex aligns, and I ache for him to own me completely.
I watch as his throat works a swallow, just before he slowly slides himself in. He moves forward inch by inch, and it’s torturous and euphoric all at the same time. The strain he must be feeling is evident on his face. Once he fills me, he stops.
“Oh fuck, Ella. It’s so…” he drags in a deep breath. “You feel so good.” He closes his eyes. I do as well. I try to channel the sensations caused by having him fill me. He remains steady, unmoving. When I open my eyes, he stares intently. It’s only when our eyes connect, does he finally start to move.
He slowly drags himself in and out. It’s not a thrusting or a pounding. It’s more like he’s caressing me tenderly.
I love him. There isn’t a question what I’m feeling is love. I’ve never felt this way before. Even after being with Peter for a year, this emotion that’s controlling me at the moment has never surfaced prior to now.
The need to tell him I’ve fallen in love with him, that he now owns me in every way, is so strong that I bite my bottom lip to keep from uttering the words. He’s not ready to hear that. No man would be. But my heart tells me he’s in the same place. Every one of his actions tells me he’s in the same place. That realization hurts my heart, in a good way. Ben Stone affects me in every way possible. I meant it when I said that I never want it to end.
Our breaths mingle as he continues to make love to me. This isn’t fucking. This is more. I wrap my legs around him in an attempt to get even closer. His fingers tighten their grip on my head. That subtle change in pressure and the furrow of his brow hints that he’s close. I’ve been fighting how close I am.
“Ella.”
Without conscious thought, I hold my breath and clench around him. I can feel my release in every muscle. The intensity makes me forget to breathe. As the last ripple wracks my body mercilessly, I gasp, desperately trying to fill my lungs with air.
Ben grunts with one last push of his hips. I’m mesmerized by the way his expression changes from concentration to relief as he empties himself within me.
There’s a brief awkward moment that passes between us. I’m at a loss as to what is appropriate to say after such a passionate act. From the look in his eyes, I can only guess that he is at a loss, as well. Except for our breathing, neither of us moves in any way.
He’s the first to move by bringing his lips to mine. Over and over he kisses my lips, sometimes softly, at times with more intensity, only to slow down again. The kissing goes on, and he never disconnects our bodies. He doesn’t change his condom. It actually excites me that he can’t be bothered to pull out for any reason.
Our kiss deepens. His tongue ignites the fire that barely burned out from our first time. He finds my hands and laces our fingers together as he moves them above my head. Urgency forces his hips to thrust and mine to buck. Where our first time was filled with silence and unspoken words, this time is filled with moans and grunts that neither bother to muffle.
The first time his message was clear. It was more than sex. It was sweet, gentle, and emotional. This time it’s just as clear, he’s marking me. I feel as if he wants to leave me with no doubt that he does indeed have two sides…and both own me.
The first time he made love to me.
The second time he fucks me.
And as I come again, as he comes again, it occurs to me that I love both sides of Ben Stone equally.
“Ella, that was…” he stops and looks down at me.
“I know.”
My mind races with thoughts of what that was… That was incredible. That was the best sex I ever had. That was life altering. That has forever changed me as a woman. That last realization stays with me the most as we lay in bed recovering. Wherever this ends up, I know that Ben Stone has changed me.
After two back-to-back extreme encounters, it takes a while for us to calm down. When we finally do, we lay entwined, relaxed and content.
He plays with my hair as I tell him about my childhood. “We moved so much because mom was such a free spirit who loved to travel. Travel abroad wasn’t an option on our budget, so she substituted it by giving me as much experience as she could. Daytrips were a common occurrence. Weekends filled with long drives, cheap hotels, taking pictures of everything we saw as if we were tourists from another land. She had a bucket list of things she wanted to see. Financially, she couldn’t afford plane trips. So her list was limited to the northeast. She said there was plenty to see in our backyard.”
“I’d like to travel with you. I haven’t seen anything and would love to see it with you.”
“I’d like that, too. We should go to Niagara Falls. My favorite weekend was when she drove us to see them. I’ve never seen something so beautiful, so majestic. Most of the other trips involved small New England towns dotted along the shoreline. My mom loved the ocean. She couldn’t get enough of it. I guess that’s where I got it from,” I admit dreamily.
Ben listens, not saying much except to ask me questions. He wants to know all about me, and it touches me that he does. “Tomorrow it’s your turn,” I announce after a yawn.
He chuckles and says, “My life was very boring.”
“Mmm, I don’t care. I still want to know who Ben Stone really is.”
“I’m just a man who is crazy about you, Ella.”
I sigh at his words and snuggle closer. So much has happened in a few days. All the pent up frustrations and desires we were both holding back were unintentionally released. I honestly believe neither one of us had plans to succumb to our attraction. It’s been building and building for weeks now. But like a dam that’s breached, once those waters flood, there’s no stopping them.
I don’t remember falling asleep until I hear my own blood-curdling, shrill scream.
“Ella! Ella!” Ben shakes me over and over. “Wake up. I’m here. I’m right here.”
The pounding in my chest matches the one in my head. He gathers me into his arms. I can’t stop shaking. His hands running up and down my back do nothing to stop my body from trembling violently in his embrace.
My dream comes to the forefront of my mind. It’s the new version, the one that includes Ben. His lifeless body replaces my mother. The slit across his throat, the blood gushing from his wound, and the void in his eyes all mimic what I witnessed that night. My subconscious is adding him to my nightmares. I lost the only person I ever loved, and now it’s trying to tell me I may lose him?
Ben rocks me, shushes me, trying to calm me down.
“Tell me,” he says into my hair. “Tell me what happened.”
I shake my head, not ready to bring him into that nightmare. By voicing it out loud, I fear it may come true.
“Ella, please.”
“It’s of that night. I always dream of that night.”
He nods against my head, but otherwise says nothing. His silence is a confirmation there’s nothing he can say or do to eliminate those visions from appearing over and over. After I finally start to calm, he shifts me so we are face to face. “I also have nightmares of the night my father killed my mom. It happened, and it’s over. Just like that awful night for you. It can’t hurt you anymore. It’s over.” He caresses my cheek as I stare wide-eyed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
I nod reluctantly. It’s not me I’m worried about. I’ve fallen in love with a stubborn, fearless cop who wants to save the world, including myself.
Who’s going to protect him?
I smile warmly. “I have to admit your breakfast was better than your dinner.” We just finished the pancakes he made, and in spite of their odd shapes and sizes, they were delicious.
“I warned you.”
I take his hand before saying, “Thank you.”
“It’s just pancakes, babe.”
I shrug with a sigh. “It’s more than that. Thank you for being so sweet. For making me feel special.”
He understands the hidden meaning in my words. “You are special. I can honestly say I’ve never made a woman dinner or breakfast.” He lifts our hands to his lips and places a kiss on mine, staring at them for a moment. When he looks up to my face, he adds, “I’ve also never made love to a woman before you.”
My heart flips from his admission. He smiles when he sees my flustered physical response. “What’s so funny? Am I blushing?”
With his other hand, he skims my cheek. “Yeah. It’s so adorable to watch.” He releases my hand to clear away our dishes. “I gotta go. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m glad we got to have breakfast together, even if it’s only seven a.m. on a Sunday.” He hoists me to my feet and wraps his arms around me.
“I don’t know what time I’ll be done today. I’ll call you later?”
I nod and lean up to give him a chaste kiss. As I begin to wash his dishes, he asks, “What are you going to do today?”
“I may go home to take a nap. I’m exhausted,” I say over my shoulder with a sly grin.
“What from?” he teases.
“As if you didn’t know.” When I place the last dish in his hands to dry, I blurt out, “I’ll probably head to the gym for a while...” The look on his face stops me from finishing my sentence. I completely forgot and immediately want to kick myself for ruining our lovely morning.
“No gym.”
“Ben.”
“Don’t start, Ella. I asked you to stay away from that place.”
I dry my hands and sit at the table. “You need to fill me in as to why. There’s something else you aren’t telling me.”
He throws the dishtowel onto the counter and leans against it with his arms folded. “There’s nothing more to tell, except it’s an unfortunate coincidence that I am now aware of and that I now need to investigate.”
“You’re holding something back,” I challenge. “Ben, if you are going to tell me what to do and what not to do, you need to be honest with me.”
His jaw clenches as he stares at me. “That man is dangerous. He may run a successful gym franchise, but he is currently sitting in jail for drug trafficking and murder charges.”
He nods at my shocked reaction. “Exactly. So chances are it is a ridiculous coincidence. Until I know for sure, humor me.”
“Okay.” I feel foolish challenging him. He cares. I have to constantly remind myself he cares and that’s the motive behind his sometimes irrational behavior. “Thank you for telling me.”
He comes to squat before me. “I know you can take care of yourself. This has nothing to do with me trying to be a prick. Please, no gym.” It’s a request, but it comes with a scowl.
“I understand.” I kiss his puckered brow. “No gym.”
“Thank you.”
“One more question. I will be seeing Andrea later. Are we?” I stop midsentence, awkwardly fumbling for the proper title. What are we?
He smiles, understanding my dilemma. “Public?”
“Yeah.”
“We are whatever you want us to be. If you want to tell her, go ahead. If you don’t, then don’t.”
“You’re leaving this on me? You suck.”
He leans closer, pulling my bottom lip in between his teeth and bites it gently. “Remember the last time you accused me of that? If I didn’t have to go, I’d once again prove that I do and remind you just how well.”
He demonstrates his oral skills on my mouth, before leaving me a worthless pile of mush.