He was long. Thick. Hard.
Clothed and naked, Ben Costigan was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
“On the bed,” he ordered. “Rest on your back.”
There was a kind of buzz at being ordered what to do. It wasn’t some drunk make-out session followed by a rushed session of sex. Ben was direct and demanding.
I lay down on the bed and waited tentatively for his next move. He approached the bed and loomed over me. His eyes skimmed my body from head to toe, and my breathing slowed when his hand wrapped around his length. He pumped himself once, twice, before he asked in a low voice, “How long has it been since you’ve been with a man, beauty?”
My eyes were glued to his slow movements when I weakly replied, “A long time.”
“How long?” he pressed tightly. “Be specific.”
“Nine months.”
I looked up at his face just as he nodded. “Good.”
The bed shifted as he climbed on. The anticipation was killing me. His movements were slow and unrushed. He looked at every part of me, and it was difficult not to feel self-conscious. My body had changed dramatically in nine months. My muscle tone had gone. The curves of my hips had shrunken. And my breasts…well, each could easily fit into the palm of his hand.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked, positioning himself on his knees.
I nodded. I’d been on birth control since I was fifteen.
“Good. Now spread your legs.”
I did as he asked, keeping my vision fixed on him. I spread my legs apart, feeling the cold air drift between them. He took my legs with each hand and skimmed up them. Once he reached my inner thighs, he spread them further apart.
“Like that,” he whispered.
I felt vulnerable and completely open to him. He stared between my legs with parted lips and a hand still wrapped around himself. Then he glanced back up at me, and a wolfish smirk formed his lips as he said, “Show me how you pleasure yourself.”
Startled by his request, I blinked helplessly at him. For a few seconds there was a hesitant silence. Sure I’d been with many men, but I wasn’t technically experienced. They’d been drunk moments that lasted minutes. And I certainly never pleasured myself in front of someone before.
Ben took my limp hand and rested it between my legs. “I want to see how you do it. Show me how you fuck yourself.”
While we’d long adjusted to the darkness, I was suddenly very glad he couldn’t see the blush heating my cheeks. Trembling, I stroked myself. Too nervous, I didn’t feel the usual sparks when I was turned on. It sort of felt numb as I moved my fingers in random directions. I couldn’t relax while being closely observed like this.
He seemed to sense this too and frowned. “Do you like what you see, Claire?”
I nodded.
“Speak.”
“Yes.”
“Stare at my body. Hell, look at my damn cock and see how hard I am for you. This is what you do to me. You leave me completely pining to be inside of you. Pining to fuck you silly. I’m hard as a rock.” He took my hand and wrapped it around his length and I sucked in a breath. Fuck, this was hot. “See? Now relax and enjoy yourself. Because it’s just you and me, beauty. This is between us, and it’s going to feel good when you’ve let go. So, let go.”
He moved my hand back between my legs. I relaxed like he told me to and feasted my eyes on his body. His length was what got to me the most. He was hard. For me. And I felt it. He liked what he was seeing, and he’d like it even more if I touched myself.
I rubbed myself again, slowly running circles along my clit. A thunderbolt of pleasure ran up my body and I gasped at the feeling. He watched me closely, stroking his erection as I continued to pleasure myself.
I shut my eyes as the tingles began to multiply. It felt naughty being observed. I moved faster, arching my back. I felt the mattress shift, and his warmth drew nearer. I moaned lightly, already lost in my movements. I wanted to get there and I wanted him to see and enjoy it.
“Stop,” he suddenly told me.
I almost whimpered at the loss of pleasure, but I obeyed. I stopped rubbing myself and waited.
“Open your eyes.”
I opened them and looked into his.
“Put a finger inside you,” he instructed, “and look at me while you do it.”
Holy hell.
My body felt like a ball of fire. Any second now I’d disintegrate into a cloud of smoke. But I was too turned on to stop. I stared at him as I slowly edged my finger into my entrance. I resisted moaning at the pulsing feeling of pleasure shooting up. His eyes stared hard at me, but his chest moved faster, a sign that he was not as composed as he let on.
“That’s it,” he muttered. “All the way in.”
Shaking, I slid my finger inside.
“Good. Now take it out.”
The second I withdrew my finger, he grabbed my wrist lightly and brought my hand up to his face. My breathing thinned as he took my finger all the way into his mouth and slowly sucked it from end to tip. Oh, my God, if I wasn’t drenched in lust before, this had done it.
He set my hand back down to my side and brought his body over mine. I knotted my fingers into his hair as he kissed me hard. He stroked his tongue against mine, urgently spreading my legs wide to accommodate himself between them. I lifted my hips and felt his hard length near my entrance, brushing against my core. I brought my hands down to his lower back and tried to pull him down to me.
I was so turned on, I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t care how desperate I looked either. I just wanted him. I wanted that need to be quenched. I wanted to feel the warmth of him like it was all that mattered in my world.
“I’m not a gentle man,” he suddenly whispered into my ear, “but I’m going to be gentle this first time. Okay?”
I nodded. I could feel the impact of those words, insinuating to me there was more to come. It excited me. He wanted me, and not in the way most others have.
He looked down between us as he rubbed the head of his cock against me, coating himself with my wetness. His breathing was hard and strained as he pumped himself outside of me a few times before settling back to my entrance. He leaned down and, with a kiss as soft as satin, he finally pushed into me. I stifled a moan and went to close my eyes when his hand gripped my chin suddenly.
“No,” he breathed against me. “Look at me.”