by Zoe Chant
"It smells wonderful." The small wooden table had been set and, to her delight, a bouquet of fresh wildflowers placed as a centerpiece in a blue glass vase. "Oh, this is lovely; thank you."
"More where that came from," Ben pointed out, ladling chili into two bowls. "And there's great trout fishing in the brook behind the cabin. Tomorrow I'll probably catch us a couple of trout for dinner, but right now I felt like we both needed a quick meal. Have you ever gone fishing?"
Tessa shook her head. "I hope you mean with fishing poles and not ... you know ... paws."
Ben laughed and set her bowl of chili in front of her, followed a moment later by an opened package of Saltine crackers. "You haven't lived until you've crouched on your hands and knees in a mountain stream and caught a trout with your bare fingers."
"I can't tell if you're joking or not."
"Joking," he said with a grin. "Well, to be honest, I do go fishing as a panther sometimes. But we'll use poles. There's a nice little pool downstream from the cabin that has good trout fishing on warm afternoons. We could head down there later today, if you like, or just lounge around the cabin."
"I'll see how I feel after I eat." She tried a spoonful of chili, and discovered all in a rush how hungry she was; she hadn't eaten since breakfast early that morning. She inhaled the bowl, hardly waiting for it to cool.
Ben made a pot of coffee, and when they'd finished eating, they took their coffee and the promised tin of cookies into the living room. Ben had opened the windows, and the curtains moved in a light breeze. Outside, the sun was setting over the mountains.
Tessa still couldn't get over how quiet it was here. When she strained her ears, aside from the hum of the refrigerator and an occasional rustle as the kittens explored the bedroom, she couldn't hear a thing. No car horns or traffic or any of the other thousand noises of the city that she'd grown up with. Instinctively she checked her phone, only to find that it had no signal.
"It's so rustic," she said, looking around the cabin as she leaned forward from the couch to set her useless phone on the coffee table; it might as well have been a coaster for all the good it would do her here. "I don't see a TV or a computer, and it's not like you can just run down the street to see a movie or listen to a band playing at your local coffee shop. How do you keep from going out of your mind with boredom?"
"There are plenty of things to do here. That, for example." Ben pointed to the bookshelves lining the walls. "And there's the entire woods to explore, fish to catch, wood to whittle ... But you also have to start thinking differently than you do in town. Time moves more slowly out here. You have to relax and let it happen."
"I'm not very good at relaxing," Tessa admitted.
He set his mug on the coffee table and sat down next to her on the couch. "Here. Let me help."
When his hands first touched her shoulders, she went tense. Ben stayed as he was, one strong hand resting lightly on each shoulder, until her instinctive stiffness at being touched began to ease. Then he increased the pressure slightly, smoothing his hands over her T-shirt-clad shoulders and across the top of her spine.
When his fingertips brushed the skin above the collar of her T-shirt, she tensed again, but for a different reason. Each light touch sent an electric charge through her body, heat quivering down her limbs and melting her at the core.
Ben stroked his thumbs in slow circles over the top of her spine, and leaned forward to kiss the back of her neck. "How's that feeling?"
"I don't know if I'm getting any less tense," she admitted breathlessly. She was all too aware of him behind her, his weight dipping the couch, his legs apart to accommodate her between them.
The gentle circling of his thumbs paused. "Want me to stop?"
"No," she whispered. "Please. Please keep going."
"I hoped you'd say that." There was warm humor in his voice, and also something else, a charged urgency echoing the heat surging inside her.
He kissed her neck again, as his hands moved down her back, pressing along the line of her spine. She inhaled, then breathed out slowly, as he slid his hands around her sides, until he could cup her breasts in his hands.
"Oh," he murmured against her neck, his breath stirring the short soft hairs and sending another shiver through her. "Oh, I've wanted to do that."
Tessa leaned back against him. She wasn't used to the feeling of having someone wrapped around her like this, but it nevertheless felt like coming home. There was something familiar about it, the feeling of his lips on her neck and his strong hands lifting the weight of her breasts, thumbs massaging her nipples through her bra and shirt. The way his arms wrapped around her, his thighs spread to accommodate her hips, the solidity of his erection against her ass—it all felt like she was rediscovering something she'd forgotten, the same pieces-slotting-into-place feeling that she'd felt when he kissed her. As if their souls knew each other and had only now found the missing half of themselves.
... all of which was getting harder to concentrate on, as he mouthed her neck and rubbed her peaking nipples. Arousal thrummed in her body. She was hyper-aware of him: the warm masculine scent of his skin, the strength of his arms, the rock-solid wall of his chest.
And she was even more aware of her own reactions, especially the growing need between her legs. She wanted to be touched, and instinctively, she started to reach down to touch herself.
Ben caught her fingers. "That's my job," he murmured against her neck.
She wanted to laugh at his phrasing (Does that make me the boss? Do you get overtime?) but then the sensation of his hand sliding down the front of her body made her suck in a breath. He ran his hand over the curve of her stomach and, working his hand under the loose edge of her T-shirt, dipped a finger under the waistband of her jeans. His fingers brushed against her bare skin in a place where no one ever touched. As he worked, one-handed, to unbutton and unzip her jeans, she reached down to help him.
Even though they were both still fully clothed, she was wetter than she could ever remember having been before. Her panties were already soaked through.
With her jeans unzipped, Ben put his hand into her panties. He was still holding her upright, braced against his chest. His fingers brushed over her damp mound and then pressed lightly against it, cupping his hand over her curls.
She moaned softly, arching her body to press herself more firmly into his palm. Her nipples were so hard they ached.
Ben dipped a finger between her folds, into the wet, eager heat.
Her entire body jerked in reaction, and she made a whining sound in the back of her throat. She felt Ben smile against her neck as he slid another finger inside her to join the first. His palm pressed on her mound and the sensitive nub hidden there, applying direct stimulation as his fingers worked at her slippery heat, sliding in and out.
She realized that she'd begun to pant in time with his strokes. Her head was thrown back against his shoulder, eyes closed, and it was only a sudden movement from Ben that jolted her out of a pleasure daze, especially his hand pulling out of her underwear.
"Nnngghh," she protested incoherently, catching him by the wrist. "Don't stop."
"I'm not stopping," he promised. "I want to taste you."
"Oh," she managed as he flipped her over on the couch. By now she was putty in his hands. He could put her in any position he wanted—at the moment, this was sprawled on the couch with her legs spread apart. Ben pulled her jeans down, followed by her wet panties. He stripped them off and left them on the floor.
There was something unexpectedly erotic about being naked from the waist down, with her top still fully clothed and her socks on. Not that anything wouldn't have been erotic at this point. She was so wet that she felt a trickle of moisture on her inner thigh. Ben spread her thighs with his strong hands, and she was already breathing hard in anticipation before his tongue brushed her folds.
Oh. Sparks danced behind her eyelids.
Ben pulled her leg up to give himself better access, spreading her fu
rther. She pressed her sock-clad foot against his shoulder and flung her head back against the couch as his warm wet strokes laved her swollen folds.
Heat mounted inside her with astonishing speed. She reached out, groping for him, and he freed a hand from her thigh to lace his fingers through hers, without ever slowing down. The tickle of his other hand moved up her inner thigh and then a finger slipped inside her, pressing on her sensitive inner walls.
It was almost too much. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with a charged energy. She felt her back arch involuntarily, pushing her hips into the couch. Ben responded by speeding up the rhythm of his fingers, his tongue gliding over her clit in fast, fluttering strokes.
"Ben—" she gasped out.
He didn't stop licking to speak, but his fingers tightened on hers, squeezing her hand in wordless reassurance: I'm here.
And with that, she tumbled over the edge, delicious electricity coursing through her body in a livewire burst that started with a deep tingling in her hips and arced out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
She surfaced from the tidal wave of pleasure as Ben pulled himself up onto the couch, lifting her so he could hold her in his arms and kiss her with salty lips.
"That was ..." She tried to pull her scattered thoughts together. "Amazing." Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes to his smiling face and heated gray eyes, dark with arousal. "I think it's your turn now."
"Upstairs," he said. "I'd like to make love to you properly, in a decent bed."
"I'm going to need a minute. My knees still feel like rubber."
Ben grinned. "I have a solution for that."
He untangled himself from her arms, and then, to her shock, scooped her up in his arms, still bare-ass half-naked as she was. He staggered slightly as he got his balance with the extra weight, and Tessa threw her arms around his neck.
"Aren't I too heavy?"
"You could never be," he told her, and with another kiss, started slowly and carefully toward the stairs.
Chapter Eight
Ben could still taste her salt, making him so hard he ached, but he was determined not to rush things. She'd had an entire lifetime of being ignored, always being put last, never cared for. In all things, but especially in this, he was determined to treat her right.
Tessa steadied them both as he climbed the stairs, one arm around his neck and the other stretching out to trail on the railing. At the top of the stairs she tensed to be let down, but he carried her on into the bedroom, and laid her out on the bed.
She was tousled and glorious, her face still flushed from her earlier orgasm. Her damp, bare caramel thighs, with the dark mound of curls just visible, begged to be parted.
Getting a tight grip on his own libido, Ben knelt beside her on the bed and pulled up her T-shirt. She stretched her arms above her head to strip it the rest of the way off, and arched her back so he could undo her bra. Finally he got his first look at her breasts, tan and gorgeous, with full, dark brown nipples. The crystal on its silver chain nestled between their smooth mounds. They filled his hands, each the perfect size for him to cup in his palm, fingers spread across her soft skin.
Tessa propped herself up on her elbow and reached for the buttons on his shirt. "Unless you've figured out the trick to having sex with clothes on, you're a little overdressed. Or were you going to admire my breasts all day?"
"I could admire your breasts forever."
"That's great," she murmured, undoing his buttons, "but can you admire them without clothes on? Let's spread the eye candy around."
His shed items of clothing went over the edge of the bed, shirt and pants and underwear landing in a crumpled heap, until at last they could meet skin to skin. She was warm to the touch, and if it weren't for the arousal hammering at him, Ben could have stretched out and basked in the touch of her skin for hours. He still wanted to, if she wanted it.
But she was clearly aching for more. Her hips jerked up when he touched her thigh, and she parted her legs eagerly, reaching to guide him in.
Her slick heat enveloped him. The earlier orgasm had left her wet and open, hungry for more. Ben gasped as he sank into her, and he felt her body move responsively under his, her walls tighten around him.
He thrust into her, and she gave a small cry, reaching up to close her arms possessively around him. With each thrust, her hips lifted to meet him and she pulled him down, as if she could draw him even deeper inside. Ben had to clench his teeth, struggling to keep himself from going over the edge. Each of her gasping cries drew him closer to release.
He felt her start to go over, the way her body relaxed under him and then suddenly tensed, and that was what pushed him into his own release, a white-hot wave breaking over him that tore a ragged cry from his throat.
They shuddered through the waves together, and as their mutual tension relaxed into limp satiation, he sank down beside her and turned his face into the crook of her shoulder.
Inside him, his panther was purring.
***
Ben's shower enclosure was small, but it had good water pressure and plenty of hot water. Tessa's body was still so sensitive that the heat made her shiver, especially when hot water trickled over her nipples and down between her legs.
They'd drowsed together on the bed for awhile, but despite the lassitude of good sex, it was still early enough that she wasn't ready to fall asleep just yet.
She finally stepped out of the shower clean, tired, and languid, more relaxed than she could ever remember being in her life. Ben's towels were enormous and fluffy. She dried off and then realized she hadn't thought to bring anything clean to wear into the bathroom with her.
Well ... that wasn't really a problem, was it?
Ben was on the couch when she came out of the bathroom with the towel draped over her shoulders, reading a book. He looked up, then did a double take and looked up again. "Wow," he whispered, gazing at her in open wonder.
He'd put on a dark T-shirt and jeans, though his feet were still bare and his hair gloriously sex-tousled. She came over the couch and draped an arm over his shoulder, while he tilted his head back to kiss her. It was the casualness of it, more than the physical contact, that took her breath away.
She had a boyfriend. She couldn't get over it.
An incredibly hot, protective boyfriend with a secluded cabin in the mountains.
Could life get any better? Not hardly. Well, maybe if dragons weren't after her, but hopefully that wouldn't be a problem here.
"Not to be a mood-killer," she murmured, lips brushing his forehead, "but where'd you put my suitcase?"
"Oh, right! I guess you need that, don't you?" He pointed up the stairs. "It's at the top of the stairs. I guess you didn't notice when we went past it earlier."
"I had other things on my mind."
Ben smiled, crinkling his eyes in that way she was coming to love. "Me too."
She was deliciously aware of Ben watching her naked ass as she climbed the stairs and bent over the suitcase.
"You can take it into the bedroom," he called up from downstairs. "I took it up with that in mind, and then thought that you might think I was pushing—you know, putting your clothes in my bedroom—so you can take one of the downstairs bedrooms if you'd rather."
"This is exactly where I want to be," she said over the railing. "So I'll just make myself at home up here, shall I?"
"Please do."
She took the suitcase into the bedroom and opened it on the bed. Old instincts took over, though, and she just got out enough clothes to change into, then closed the suitcase neatly and put it on the floor against the wall. There was a part of her that wanted to unpack and see her clothes nestled against Ben's in the drawers of the big wooden dresser against the wall, but there was an even bigger part that wanted to be ready for a quick getaway.
Would she ever live anywhere without expecting that she was going to have to leave?
She pushed that thought down. With a dragon assassin hunting her, it was a
sensible precaution to take. She changed into clean jeans and a black crop-top with MEOW picked out across the breasts in rhinestones (the closest thing to sexy clothes she owned), then almost changed out of it when she looked down at the curve of her exposed belly over the top of her jeans. But, hell, Ben had just seen all of her less than an hour ago.
She padded downstairs, trailing her hand on the railing. Ben looked up and smiled, then smiled wider when he saw what she was wearing. "I like the shirt," he remarked.
"You know, there are people who say women shaped like me shouldn't wear crop-tops."
Ben stood up and came over. He touched the smooth skin of her belly lightly, running his hand over it with obvious delight, then leaned in to kiss her.
"Those people," he murmured against her lips, "are very wrong."
"I'm starting to get that impression."
She was just stretching up to kiss him again when a chorus of high-pitched mewing broke out from the bedroom. Tessa burst into giggles and looked over to see a small orange paw snake out from under the closed bedroom door before vanishing again.
"Oh yes," Ben said, "that. I think the kittens are restless."
"Do you mind if I let them out into the living room? I didn't want to overwhelm them, but it looks like they want to join the family."
"Sure. I'll go close the windows."
When she opened the door, the kitten who had been trying to crawl under it (Toblerone) tumbled into the living room, looked startled, then picked himself up and went to see what was under the couch. The rest fanned out along the edges of the room. One tried to crawl into the fireplace. Tessa caught it and put it on the couch instead.
"Are you supposed to kitten-proof a house, the way you'd child-proof?" Ben asked, watching as the march of the kittens spread to encompass the kitchen and one of them tried to climb the sawhorse. "Because I sort of ... haven't."