Page 23 of Extended Bridge (Passionate Beats #2)

I give myself over to Bennett, trusting him to give me what I need. His mouth covers my ear, into which he exhales. I tip my head to allow him better access while my lower half has no purchase to support my weight. No—it’s all on him.

I glance down at his thigh, which now sports a rather large wet spot. From me. While I know I should be embarrassed, I’m not. He’s turned me on more than ever.

He bites my nipple again. “Come for me.”

I buck on his thigh, my core clenching around nothing. My head shakes. With a breathy whimper, I tell him, “I can’t.”

“From the stain on my jeans, I think you can.” His thigh pushes against me, rougher than before. One hand returns to my breast while his lips cover mine again. Tongue deep in my mouth, he continues to play my body as if it were made for him.

Out of nowhere, an orgasm crashes over me. I cry out something unintelligible, not caring where I am or who could possibly hear me. Bennett continues his movements as I come down off the lust-induced high.

He doesn’t allow me to recover for more than a minute. My feet are under me briefly before he ushers me to the side of bed, where my legs make contact. “Give me your panties.”

I can’t process, simply react to his command. One leg lifts, then the other, and I pass him the soaked bit of lace. He lifts it to his nose and inhales, then stuffs them into his back pocket. His hands come to my shoulders and push me downward, directing my butt to contact the soft mattress.

“Up you go.”

He joins me on the bed as I urge my body up toward the headboard. A pillow is shoved beneath my butt and his fingers part my wet core. “You’re driving me insane.”

“Good,” he replies. “I’m going to do that again right now. ”

He leans down. His tongue plays with my clit the way he was French kissing me not long ago. Up one side and down the other, causing my hips to buck.

“Yes!” At my exclamation, he continues but I want more. “I need you,” I wail.

Bennett pulls back. “Do you need this?” One long finger enters me, around which I clench.

“More.” Since when have I ever been this demanding? Only with Bennett. No one else.

“Will this do?” A second finger joins the first.

I undulate in time with his movements, begging for more. “I need?—”

Whatever I was going to say is cut off when his thumb encircles my clit. He’s sitting up, watching my every reaction.

Learning.

Gauging.

Adjusting.

It’s as if he was created to bring me pleasure.

My hips circle, greedy for everything this man offers. When his free hand lands on my nipple and he pinches, I skyrocket out of the bedroom.

Bennett wears a smug smile. Meeting his gaze, he says, “Two.”

I let all my weight rest on my elbows. “What are you doing to me?”

“Fulfilling my promise.” His palm lands between my breasts. “Lie down. I’m going to make things even better.”

Better? Any better and I’ll be dead. My protest dies on my lips when his mouth covers my core, his tongue repeating what it was doing earlier. Only now, my clit is overstimulated. My head thrashes against the pillows. “No, Bennett.”

He chuckles. “Before, you were begging me for more. Now’s not the time to change your mind, Sweetheart.”

He laps my sex again and something shifts deep within me. I jump from overstimulated to needy. “Yes! ”

“That’s more like it.” His tongue dances around my clit while his fingers slip inside.

For want of something to hold onto, my own fingers grasp my nipples, twisting. My actions heighten those Bennett’s creating within me. His gaze drifts up to lock on my own.

I’ve never felt anything remotely like this.

Green eyes staring at me while his mouth and fingers own my entire lower half.

His tongue presses against my clit and—as if I were on a roller coaster—I crest the peak and barrel down the long slope into blinding ecstasy, screaming all the way.

When his fingers pull out of my body and he sits straight, I melt, boneless, into the bed. Watch as he licks himself clean.

Then, Bennett shifts to one side and reaches into his back pocket, presumably for a condom. Wrong. He pulls out my panties, which he brings to his nose, rubbing his finger over the material. “They’re still wet.” He licks the piece of lace. “I love how wet you get for me.”

Mind. Blown. I try to rearrange my disjoined thoughts to form a coherent sentence. Or even a phrase. I come out with, “Taste you.”

Using my panties, he outlines his dick. “All yours, Sweetheart.”

Still unable to command my limbs, I direct him to remove his jeans. Standing at the foot of the bed, he takes his time to shuck his open jeans, pausing to remove his wallet. With his hands on the waistband of his black boxer briefs, he asks, “These too?”

“Yes. Now.” Why is it taking him forever to get naked?

His sexy grin tells me he’s doing this on purpose. Drawing it out to prolong the encounter. “Because you asked so nicely,” he slides his underwear down his long legs.

Standing at the foot of the bed, his erection juts outward, highlighting both its size and need for me. I scramble to my knees and move to meet him. Licking my finger, I trace the protruding vein from root to leaking tip. He adjusts his stance.

My mouth waters. I want to give him at least as much pleasure as he gave me—three times. Slurping his essence, my lips encircle him.

His hips pump as his palm lands on the back of my head. Following his direction, I suck him as far into my mouth as possible, rotating my hand at the base.

“Damn,” he pants. “Don’t stop.”

I continue giving him head and soon he’s no longer thrusting, rather rocking into my mouth. Owning Bennett Hardy the way he owned me turns me into a previously unknown wild woman.

“I’m close.”

His warning spurs me to draw him harder, deeper, tighter. With an anguished yell, he pumps several times and spills into my mouth. I swallow every drop, then sit back onto my heels, a wide grin overtaking my face.

Something’s off.

He’s projecting both pleasure and pain.

I understand the pleasure. The pain dawns on me after a few heart-pounding moments. “Shit!” I’m off the bed and running to the kitchenette in an instant.

By the time I return to the bedroom, Bennett’s sitting on the rumpled bed, his right leg outstretched. I place the ice pack on his thigh. “How bad?”

“Like a seven,” he responds through clenched teeth. His hand clasps mine. “Worth every fucking ounce of pain.”

Leaving our hands entwined, I crawl into the bed and snuggle against his left side. His arm covers me. “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done this.”

“Jenna, yes we should have. The things you make me feel are amazing. I want to share the slightest hint of my pleasure.” He traces my fingers.

All the reasons this is wrong— we’re wrong—override my previous positivity. His groin pull. The doctor’s order not to have sex for another week. My ethical prohibition. Ma’s animosity.

A strangled sound twists from my soul.