Page 34 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Emma

B en wasn’t lying. I don’t even know how many orgasms I’ve had tonight, or how long we’ve been going. It could be an hour or twelve—I have no clue.

Ben released my wrists around the fourth orgasm, taking care to rub the feeling back into them before he promptly flipped me over so I could straddle his face.

My pussy is sore and overstimulated, my thighs are beard burned, and my body is sticky with sweat and honey residue.

But for the first time in maybe ever, I don’t have a single thought in my brain other than Ben and the overwhelming pleasure he’s bringing me.

I feel a little dizzy, and my limbs are relaxed.

When my arms can no longer hold me up, he lays me down on my back and uses the vibrator on me again.

“What’s your color, Dulzura ?” he asks as my umpteenth orgasm subsides.

“G-green, Sir,” I croak .

“Are you sure? We can stop whenever you want.”

“I want your cock, Sir.”

Ben smiles. “Such a greedy little slut. Do you think you’ve earned it, Dulzura? ”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ben hums, then crawls up my body. “I’ll give you my cock, Dulzura, if you promise to come on it. Give me another one. Show me how much you love getting fucked by me.”

“I prom—” My sentence breaks off with a moan as Ben thrusts into me in one swift move.

“Fuck, honey. Needed this pussy. Been missing it so much. Never want to go that long without it again,” he mumbles as he pulls out and slams back in.

I can’t even appreciate his words because his pubic hair chafes against my abused clit as his cock punishes my pussy. The sensation is overwhelming and delicious at the same time.

“I wish you could see yourself right now, Emma. Looking so thoroughly fucked. So wrung out. You look so fucking beautiful. You’re taking everything so well. Such a perfect little slut for me.”

My pussy clenches around his cock at his praise. I’m sure I look well fucked. My makeup is probably ruined and my hair a frizzy mess, but Ben thinks I look beautiful.

Ben pulls out and flips me over so I’m facing the foot of the bed and he’s kneeling behind me.

“Look at how good we look together,” Ben rasps, gripping my hair in his hand and using it to turn my head towards the arched mirror in the corner.

I gasp as I take in the scene .

Ben looks like a god with his golden skin and chiseled jaw. My pale skin, marked with ink, is a lovely contrast. He was right about me looking thoroughly fucked, but I’m also glowing. My hair looks like spun gold in his grip, and my eyes are glassy, making the blue look electric.

He thrusts into me from behind, and I want to close my eyes at the sensation, but I force them to stay open so I can watch the muscles in his arms flex as he thrusts.

The new angle means he’s hitting me even deeper, the meaty head of his cock hitting my G-spot with every thrust. I didn’t think it was possible to orgasm this many times, but still, I feel another building.

“I feel you clenching, Dulzura. Come again for me.”

“I can’t,” I protest, and Ben spanks my ass.

“You can. You will. ” He spanks me again, then his thumb presses against my back hole.

“Someday, I’m going to put my cock in this tempting little hole.”

I tense.

“Not tonight. I’ll need to take some time stretching you to take me here. But I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

I want to deny I will, but I’ve played with myself there and have enjoyed it. Still, having Ben’s massive cock inside me there is as daunting as it is enticing.

Ben doesn’t stick his thumb inside me, but he does apply pressure which only increases the pleasure of my impending orgasm as he picks up his pace.

“Yeah, you’ll like it. I’ll make you my good little anal slut in no time. You’ll be begging to have me fill this sweet ass every fucking day before you know it.”

Fuck, I forgot how dirty his mouth can be .

My release is right there, but I need something more to get me over the edge.

“Please, Sir,” I whimper.

“What do you need, honey?”

“I-I don’t know, Sir. Just… more. ”

Ben pulls my head up so our bodies are almost flush and reaches around to pinch one of my nipples—still sticky from the honey––while he sinks his teeth into the top of my shoulder.

The angle change and the added pain send me over the edge, and I think I scream as my orgasm overtakes me. My vision goes dark as my release crashes through me with the strength of a freight train.

“That’s it, Dulzura. I knew you had one more in you. Such a good girl for me. Squeezing me so tight. I’m going to fill this pussy, watch me drip out of you.”

He grunts, then hot ropes of his cum paint my pussy. As soon as he releases his hold from around my chest, I flop onto the bed, completely boneless. My brain is swimmy and floaty, and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.

I’m vaguely aware of Ben pulling out of me and walking around the room before returning with a damp cloth to clean between my thighs.

I try to keep my eyes open because I need to get my bearings so I can go home, but they keep closing involuntarily.

Ben picks me up and cradles me to his broad chest, and I hear the crinkle of a water bottle in one of his hands.

“What are you—”

Ben shushes me before I can finish my question. “Relax, honey. I’m taking you to the shower. I can’t have you all sticky in my bed, and you’ve made a mess of these sheets.”

I begin to protest that a shower feels too intimate, but now that I’m no longer high off of orgasms, my skin is starting to stick to itself, and a shower sounds nice.

I also know arguing with him about aftercare would get me nowhere, so I don’t put up a fight as he sets me in the glass encased shower. I really don’t want to wash my hair without my special curly products, but I’m sure there’s honey stuck in the strands.

I just hope he has separate shampoo and conditioner and not a ten-in-one.

His bathroom is black and white with touches of dark green in the décor. There’s no bathtub like the bathroom by the guest room, just a large shower stall.

Ben turns the water on to the right temperature and silently lathers a clean washcloth with his body wash before gently rubbing down my skin, paying extra attention to the parts where he drizzled honey on me.

I wash my hair with his shampoo while he washes my body. His scent permeates the shower, and I already know I’ll have a hard time wanting to shower it off me when I get home.

When that’s done, he directs me under the spray to rinse off. I gently comb some conditioner through my hair before he hands over face wash to scrub away the makeup I was wearing.

I feel exposed. Raw. Vulnerable.

This feels too much like a serious relationship—I’m just glad he didn’t demand to wash my hair for me. That would have been too intimate .

I’m too tired to deal with it today. I can panic about it tomorrow.

Once Ben has deemed us clean, he helps me out and pats me dry with a fluffy towel before leading me into his bedroom. My eyes are already partially closed when he sits me on the bed and directs me to drink the rest of the water in the water bottle.

Once it’s gone, he lays me down and covers me with a soft blanket, before rounding the bed and settling in next to me.

“Rest now, Dulzura, ” he whispers.

My body is intent to obey his commands because I fall asleep within minutes, even though I know this is blurring the lines.