Page 79 of Burn Bright (Cobalt Empire #1)

His eyes tear away from mine, and I wonder if he’s aware of his slip. He focuses on easing himself deeper. When he’s just a little farther in, he lets go of his cock and flexes into me so slowly, so gradually. There’s no more pain. Only a fullness that ekes out more carnal need.

My lips break apart as a moan ejects the same time he groans under his husky breath, “You are…so fucking tight.”

I think you’re just massive , I want to reply, but I literally cannot form words right now.

Ben is in me.

Ben is in me.

Ben is inside me.

I can’t decide if it’s the words or the actual feeling or the visual that ignites my body and flames my already heightened arousal.

The fullness of taking him, the fact that his dick is disappearing into me—it’s hot in itself, but then I look up and see his caring, loving blue eyes stroking over my whole body, my whole being, while he has my hips in two hands.

I’m too overcome to even consider moving.

While he’s knelt and keeping me still, he thrusts in slow, melodic movements like rolling waves. He might as well be fisting my pleasure in his hand. He has full control. His throaty grunts intoxicate me. My breaths shorten.

The friction he creates inside me is gathering so much heat. I curl my fingers into the bedsheets, one of my arms reaching above my head and gripping a pillow. That seems to affect Ben—his muscles flex and a knotted, masculine sound scratches out of his throat.

Oh fuck, oh fuck. I cry out, not sure how long I’m going to last.

He has all of me. While on his knees, he also has perfect view of my jostling body each time he flexes forward and thrusts inside, and I love how he’s staring at me. I love every time our eyes catch there is only a bottomless sense of longing and emotion.

Sweat glistens on our skin. Candlelight flickers over us.

He breathes through his nose, pushing his dampening hair back, then he pulls me by the hips toward him, nearly filling me to the brim. He starts making deep, short thrusts that feel too intimate, too fucking intense—like he has reached into my soul and constructed a dwelling there.

I whimper, so on the verge.

It feels like he’s pounding into me. I can barely breathe.

He stretches an arm and clutches my cheek, as if saying, I’m taking care of you. You can let go. He’s demolished all my gates, all defenses. I am just the earth around the moat. Relishing as the cool wind sweeps over me and pricks my hot skin.

What kind of sex is this? I think it right as I shudder into a climax. Whoa, whoa, whoa…I dizzy.

Being naked in Ben’s hands is another favorite thing of mine, I realize. Because the way he holds me, looks at me, cares for me like I’m his to protect and cherish and pleasure is my ultimate high.

I barely come down when he lifts me upward. He brings me toward his chest so I’m sitting on his lap—his dick still so deep in me. The movement ousts a rough moan from my lips. I’m quaking. Quivering. He’s not done. We’re not done.

Yes, fuck yes.

Ben arches up into me with skill and experience, and his hand slides to the back of my head. Our eyes lock onto each other in another intense, intimate moment. We’re so close. His chest against my breasts. The world falls away, and his pace slows in a more sensual rhythm.

My heart thumps harder. I grip his neck with one hand. His waist with the other. Trying not to collapse backward from the way he drives into me. But he’s strong. He keeps me firmly on him.

Our breaths merge into the same ragged, hot tempo. He dips his head lower, kissing me. We can’t even stay lip-locked for long. I’m panting. I’m ascending.

“Harriet…I…” He grunts out a couple more indecipherable words. This happened last time, I remember. Communication became a game of failure. I feel the same defeat as all I can do is curse and curse and curse. The same basic word. Fuck .

His arms are curved so strongly around me, his hand buried into the back of my hair.

I feel cocooned against him. Cradled, sheltered, unharmed.

His movements quicken. We’re a mixture of grunts, moans, curses, and half-sentences.

I think I’m going to come again when he guides my head to the crook of his neck, then fists my hips in his clutch.

He steadies my waist as he alternates between thrusting up in me and bringing my own body down on his cock.

“Can’t…get…” His hoarse voice is too sexy. “…deep enough. Fuck. ”

I understand the feeling. I just crave more and more.

Pleasure winds through my core as I glance down and see his erection vanished between my legs, and I suddenly, abruptly, contract on his length.

The pressure and fullness and new position soars my orgasm to new levels.

It lasts longer than it ever has before, climbing up and coming down three times on repeat, and on the last climax, I feel him jerk upward, his muscles tensing, his fingers tightening in my hair, his cock twitching as he releases inside me.

He pumps a little, in and out, milking the sensation—which, wow.

I kind of wish he wasn’t wearing a condom. Maybe one day I’ll feel him drip out of me. One day? Don’t think about it, Harriet. I do not want to ruin the best sex I’ve ever had.

Our bodies slacken together in heavy, tired, sputtering waves.

He gently pulls out at the same time he lowers me into the mattress.

I’m spent but happy when I see he’s staying on the bed with me.

He plants a soft, affectionate kiss on my forehead, then my cheek, then my lips.

It’s impossible not to smile a little bit.

He only leaves to dispose of the condom. Once he returns to the pull-out, I’m greedy for his embrace again. We’re lying down together, and I like the way he fits me into his chest and rubs the back of my head tenderly. I think I might like it too much.

A deep ache wells in the pit of my stomach. I anticipated this being hard—having sex knowing he’s going to leave. But I underestimated the pain. It’s an immediate onslaught of emotion. Of feeling ripped open and left to bleed. I try my best to bury it down. He told you. You knew.

My throat tries to close.

I’ve never had sex like this. Emotional, raw sex.

Loving sex.

It makes everything so much more complicated. The flamed wicks of the many candles catch my eye. This was perfect. It was everything a girl like me had stopped hoping for, because I never really thought it was in the cards. Now that it’s here, I can’t believe I might lose it all in weeks.

“Harriet?” Ben props himself on his elbow to stare down at me. He pushes sweaty pieces of my bangs out of my lashes. “You okay?”

Tears squeeze out as I tighten my eyes shut.

He clutches my cheek as I try to turn away. He’s breathing hard like this is agony watching tears slip from the corners of my eyes. “ Harriet .”

“I…” I intake a sharp, hiccupping breath.

I think I loved this too much.

I think I love you.

It hits me so suddenly and so hard. I start crying right here. Right now.

“Harriet…” He pulls me into his chest as I quake in full-body sobs. He presses comforting, warm, loving kisses into my hair. He holds me so securely, so possessively, like he’ll never release his clutch, and for a moment, I make-believe that he never will.