Page 50 of Resisting the Temptation (Broken Shelves #3)

Emma

I fucking hate talking about clothes with my mom. I hate shopping with her even more, so I avoid it at all costs.

When I was here last year, she roped me into going shopping with her and when we walked through the plus-size section of Target, she clicked her tongue and said, “These are huge. There’s no way any of them will ever fit me.”

The clothes she was holding were my size.

It was a blow to my self-esteem. It doesn’t help that every time I see her, she’s “concerned” about my health and tries to fat-shame me into going on a diet.

I’ve worked really hard to learn to accept my body for what it is. I don’t love my body every day, but it’s gotten me through a lot, and it deserves to be cared for.

I’ve told her time and time again how she should refer to it as the plus-size section instead of the “bigger lady” section or the “full-figure” section, but she doesn’t listen, nor does she care.

Luckily, I ask if they have any upcoming trips planned with her twin, Janet, which forces her to change the subject. Apparently, they’re planning a cruise to Hawaii for the spring.

When the check comes, my dad insists on paying, even though Ben offers. I used to think it was because my dad is a generous man, but now I realize it’s how he asserts his dominance and shows off his wealth.

They don’t hug me goodbye, just confirm Ben and I will be at the funeral on Friday and dinner afterwards.

When we get back into Ben’s car, my eyes well with the tears I’ve been holding back all night.

“I’m so sorry they’re so awful.”

“Emma, I promise you have nothing to apologize for. I just don’t understand how two people so awful were able to produce you.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just shrug.

We don’t talk as we make our way back to the hotel. It’s a welcome change from the strained conversation at dinner.

I hate having dinner with my parents. They never talk, which I find odd. Why even ask me to come if you’re not going to talk to me?

But I know it’s all for show. They’re hoping they’ll run into a ward member or one of my dad’s coworkers and get to flaunt me around.

Even if they hate everything about me.

They hate my tattoos. They hate my nose piercing. They hate my decision to leave the church. They hate that I’m bisexual. They hate that I moved away from Utah—away from them —and found happiness and haven’t asked them for anything.

Sometimes, I think they just hate me.

My tears have dried by the time we enter the hotel room, and even though it’s only seven o’clock, I’m exhausted.

“What would you like to do for the rest of the night?” Ben asks, leaning against the wall by the door.

“I think I’d just like to read and relax, if it’s okay?”

Ben smiles softly at me. “Of course it’s okay. Do you want to shower first?”

I nod and gather my clothes, heading into the bathroom to take a quick shower.

When I come out, Ben gathers his stuff and takes it to the bathroom.

I grab my Kindle and settle on my bed, opening it up to where I left off in the book I’m reading.

“Please,” Cami whimpers as I tease the fat head of my cock at her entrance. She’s so wet, I could slip inside with no resistance at all.

“Patience, Pet. You’ve been teasing me all day with this damn pencil skirt. How am I supposed to get anything done when all I want to do is bend you over my desk?”

I have her bent over said desk with her hands bound behind her back with the tie I’ve been wearing all day. I didn’t plan on fucking my assistant today, but when I heard her telling a coworker about a date she was going on tonight, I knew I had to make my move.

She needs to know she won’t be dating anyone else because she’s mine.

I asked her to stay late to help me recover a file I “accidentally” deleted.

I stayed put in my chair while she stood in front of my computer, and I ogled the way that damn pencil skirt hugged her ass.

I couldn’t resist running my hands up her strong thighs, slipping under the skirt to feel the soft skin beneath.

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t stop me as she continued clicking around for a file that never existed in the first place.

I stood from my chair and pressed my front against her back, running my hands up her sides.

“S-sir. This is wrong.”

“Is it?” I mumbled against the soft skin of her neck, inhaling the sweet, vanilla scent of her.

“Yes. You’re my superior. I could lose my job.”

“I’m the owner. I would never let that happen, Pet. Let me make you feel good. Please, Cami.”

After a half-hearted argument, she let me taste her decadent pussy.

Now I’m about to fuck the object of my obsession for the last year.

“I’m going to make your pussy cream all over this cock, Cami. But you can’t come until I say.” I don’t let her respond as I thrust my hips to the hilt, groaning as the tight heat of her envelops my length.

She—

“What are you reading?” Ben’s voice makes me snap my head up.

“Uh, a romance book about a boss and his assistant.”

Ben prowls towards the bed slowly, like a panther assessing its prey. “Tell me what’s happening in the story, Dulzura. What’s got your cheeks flushed and thighs clenching?”

“He, uh.” I lick my lips, and Ben’s gaze tracks the movement. “He has her… bent over his desk. With her hands tied behind her back. He just thrust inside her for the first time after eating her out.”

Ben hums as he reaches the end of my bed, crossing his arms as his eyes rake over my body.

I’m in a cropped tank top and loose sleep shorts, but you’d think I was in the world’s finest lingerie by the look in Ben’s eyes.

The tank top is white, so when my nipples pebble under his stare, he smirks and licks his lips.

“Why did he tie her hands behind her back?”

“T-to punish her for teasing him all day in her outfit.”

Ben hums again and mumbles, “I can relate.”

He glances around the room and turns back to me with a wicked smirk after he notices the small desk in the corner of the room.

“Would you like to reenact the scene, Dulzura? Can I bend you over this hotel desk and fuck you with your hands tied?”

God, yes.

“Yes, Sir.”

Ben grabs my ankles and pulls me to the end of the bed, my Kindle tossed somewhere as I yelp.

He cups my pussy with his hand, no doubt feeling the heat radiating off of it. I’m not wet yet, but I will be soon.

“These little shorts are a tease, honey. Did you wear them just to punish me?” He teases the hem, slipping his warm fingers underneath the fabric and rubbing small circles into my thigh.

“No, Sir. They’re just comfortable to sleep in. ”

Ben hums as he removes his hands and traces them slowly up my sides. “What about this thing you call a shirt? Hm? Your nipples are practically begging for my tongue. Did you wear this just to get my attention?”

He pinches one of my nipples to punctuate his question, and I let out a loud moan.

“N-no, Sir.”

“I don’t believe you, Dulzura. I think you wore this just for me. But let me tell you a secret.” He leans over and puts his mouth next to my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body. “You always have my attention.”

I let out an embarrassing whimper when Ben moves off me, and he chuckles. He walks over to his duffle bag on the floor and rifles around until he finds what he’s looking for—an emerald green necktie.

“This is the only tie I brought with me for this trip, Dulzura. I think it’ll work for what I have planned, though. Then every time I wear it, I’ll think of you, bent over and at my mercy.” He tosses it on the bed before standing between my legs again.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pulls them off my legs slowly, groaning when he finds I’m not wearing panties.

“No panties, Dulzura? That’s naughty.”

“It’s to let my pussy breathe at night, Sir.”

“Are you saying you haven’t been wearing panties any of the times we’ve shared a room?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“ Fuck. ” He runs a hand down his face, glaring at my pussy like it’s offended him somehow. He shakes his head and holds out his hands .

I take them, and he helps me stand. He lifts the hem of my tank top over my head and tosses it on the bed, my nipples get even harder in the cool air of the room.

“Stunning,” Ben whispers, thumbing one nipple and then the other. “On the desk, honey.”

I awkwardly maneuver myself until I’m sitting on the desk, and Ben steps between my legs. I look up at him and find myself once again wanting to beg him for a kiss. But the sting of rejection from the last time is still there, and we haven’t talked about it again.

I think he might be thinking the same thing as he brings his thumb up to my mouth and presses it between my lips. “Suck. Make it wet.”

I close my lips around his thumb, swirling my tongue around the tip, mimicking the way I would suck his cock.

He pulls out of my mouth with a wet pop, slips his thumb down to my aching clit, and rubs gentle, teasing circles on my sensitive bud.

My head falls back between my shoulders, but Ben’s hand grips the hair at the nape of my neck and pulls until my face is tipped up towards him.

“I want your eyes when I make you come on my fingers, Dulzura. ” He slips two fingers into my pussy. “I want to watch them roll back when you coat them in your sweetness.”

He thrusts his fingers and swirls his thumb around my clit with the efficiency of someone who knows my body better than I do. It feels like hardly any time passes before my orgasm crests and sends me careening over the edge with a loud moan .

Ben’s gaze never leaves mine, even as my eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“That’s it, honey. You look so pretty when you come for me. Fuck. ”

He pulls his fingers from me and presses them to my mouth. “Clean my fingers.”