Page 190 of Burn Bright

He groans into a graveled noise of arousal, his hands still planted on either side of my thighs. “This is my favorite thing to do, so if there’s a next time, we’re going to do it again…and again. If that’s okay with you?”

Ifthere’s a next time. There are no guarantees with Ben, but I don’t really care right now. I can replay this moment for eternity. Maybe the memory will be enough.

“Should I answer that after I learn what it feels like?” I ask. “What if I hate it?”

He smiles. “Challenge accepted, Fisher.”

I gasp as his head disappears between my thighs. The warmth of his tongue hits my swollen clit, and heat spreads through my entire body.Fuckfuckfuck. A moan escapes my lips, and my fingers slide on the cold marble to try and find grip.

He sucks gently on my bundle of nerves, and my thighs quiver. “Fuck,” I curse.

His tongue slips inside me, and my body unbuckles. Knees lock, legs shake, muscles tighten in all the best ways. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my thigh, reminding me that he’s doing all of this with just his mouth. The thought draws another strangled cry out of me. I clutch at his hair, my fingers twisting in the brown strands. When his tongue flicks against my clit, he lifts his eyes to catch my gaze.

He watches me moan his name. Moan another curse. His mouth glistens with my cum, but it’s the arousal clouding his blue eyes that soaks me even more. He dips his head back down and sucks the sensitive bud. I lose it and come on him.

He grips me tight and laps at the wetness I create.

I really,reallyunderstand why they call it being eaten out now.

My chest rises and falls heavily, and he stands fully to his feet. He wipes his mouth with the back of his arm, which is somehow just as sexy as when he was between my legs. He looks me over. “And?”

“Yes,” is all I manage to say.

He smiles and grabs me underneath my bottom, picking me up again by my bare ass. I’m still trying to catch my breath, and I press my forehead to the crook of his neck. He carries me into the living room, and the warm flickering candles tug at my heart.

Romantic.

Sofucking romantic.

Waiting for this was worth it. And he knew that. I would have for sure been fine with fucking in a motel, maybe because I didn’t know what I’d be missing.

The mattress is already pulled out from the couch. Fluffy pillows and cozy blankets strewn over it. Ben gently rests me down, and the frame squeaks as he kneels on the mattress. My breath cages when he grips the bottom of my cropped tee and pulls it over my head.

Cold air hits the tops of my breasts, and I’m suddenly so aware of our height difference. I’ve never slept with anyone remotely as tall as him. “I assume I’ll need to be on top,” I breathe out in a raspy voice as I watch him fish the button in his pants through the hole.

His gaze lifts slowly, hooded underneath thick lashes, and his brows knit together.

“Because of our height difference,” I explain.

Ben smiles. “I knew why you wereassuming,” he says. “I’m just trying to decide if I should pop up some visuals for you before we do this because you’re not going to be on top.”

My face heats. “I don’t need visuals.”

“You sure?” he asks, genuinely sincere as he reaches behind me. “I’d rather you be comfortable than in your head about it.” His fingers snap off the clasp to my black bra like he’s done this before. His experience is a turn on. I hope my inexperience with tall guys who take charge isn’t such a turn off—but that thought vanishes instantly when I see heady waves of attraction pool in his eyes.

I bite the inside of my bottom lip before saying, “I trust you.”

He expels a hot aroused breath, then removes a square foil packet from his pocket. He bites down on the corner of the wrapper, the unripped condom dangling from his mouth, as he sheds the rest of his clothes. His pants. His boxer-briefs. They crumple in a heap on the floor.

We’re both entirely fucking naked, and his eyes haven’t left my breasts now that my bra is gone. Mine haven’t left his thick cock. Holy fuck, okay,yeah,he’s even bigger than I imagined, most likely due to his current erection that’s been freed from the confines of fabric.That is going to be inside me.

My pussy aches as if pleading for it.

I’m a puddle of need. I lean back against the firmer couch cushions that mimic a headboard. He grips my ankle, then slides me down fully supine on the mattress.He knows exactly what to do, Harriet. That thought is like a slow drip of Valium, washing away all worry about the next steps. I love not having to lead this expedition.

He takes one of the pillows and fits it underneath my lower back. Then he reaches up and rips the condom’s wrapper with his teeth. He spits the sliver of foil off to the side, then his gaze drops back down to my breasts. He says, “I’m sorry. I have to—” He abandons fitting on the condom to put his lips to my perked nipple, as if he can’t wait any longer.

I let out a whimper as he sucks against the bud, kisses, laps his tongue against me. Holy shit,holy shit.My legs rattle, and my back tries to arch into him. I twitch as he toys with the sensitivity. Oh…my God. I’m busty, so when he squeezes my other breast, he has a soft handful of me, kneading in a firm grip. His undeniable, impatient craving for my body has my head spinning. My toes curling.