I bristle at her words. Oh, my God. What have I done? I can just imagine the media frenzy over this. And…the lawsuits.
“Can you give us a moment, ladies?” Ben had re-entered the room without us noticing. He is staring at me with his hands in his pockets. He stands majestic as the light from outside glows around his figure like an aura.
I gasp and my hand catches my throat as I have a revelation. My dream. He’s the one in my dreams; the light shining in the darkness.
Rachel shoots me a quizzical glance. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I pant. I know she doesn’t believe me, but she gets up and leaves with Simone anyway.
I rise from the bed, still shaken by my revelation. I want to tell him thank you, but my throat is too dry.
Ben’s lithe grace, as he walks over to me, is dazzling and I am almost knocked off balance when he grasps my head and waist and kisses me deeply, pouring all of his emotions into it. Regret, relief, anger, sadness, happiness, fear, desire…I feel it all.
“Goddamn it, Sullivan!” he curses, pulling away from me. I hold on to one of the posts on the bed to steady myself as the butterflies ignite in my stomach and threaten to fly away with me. He has such an overwhelming effect on me sometimes.
He reaches for me again, gripping my neck to hold me in place as he glares at me with those murky green eyes of his. “You could have died,” he says slowly and sternly. “You drank too much and the drug, mixed with the alcohol, created a deadly mixture.”
Tears slide down my cheeks as he speaks. His eyes glisten. Is he about to cry? I grab him to me and I squeeze him with everything I’ve got, pain and all. “Thank you, Ben. And…I’m so sorry.”
Ben tenses in my grasp. His hands form fists at his side as though he is restraining himself from touching me. I let him go, feeling rejected, and step back from him, returning my hold to the post.
“You say you know that men like me like order and routine; in other words, control,” he speaks, his eyes trained on me. “Yet, for all intents and purposes, you have done everything to disrupt that.”
I have.
“I told myself that I would leave you alone, but here I am, like a glutton for punishment. You’ve fucked me up so much, Sullivan. I can’t…I can’t get you out of my system.” He closes his eyes, shaking his head violently.
“I’m sorry.” That is all I can muster to say at this point. Besides, what do you say to all of that?
“You pissed me off so much on Wednesday night,” Ben continues. “And then for me to come find you having a seizure on a bed in your bra and panties…I went off,” he growls, doubling his fists. Obviously, he is still angry. “I need control, Sullivan. But I can’t seem to get it with you.”
He stands away from me, but I feel his anger pulsating through the atmosphere, like emanating waves of heat. He is on the edge. The smallest mistake will make him lose his composure. I have to give him back control; the control I stole from him the moment I took his business card, wrote my contact information on it, and left him standing in the ladies’ room.
I loosen my grip on the post and approach him tentatively. He backs up a fraction and my heart twists. I am breaking him. Trying to gather my thoughts and courage, I take a deep breath in and release it heavily. This is make-or-break time.
“Hit me,” I tell him, my voice softer than I want it to be.
Ben glowers at me, his eyes shooting me a nasty glare. “What?” he baulks.
I clear my throat to sound more resolute and I say with much more force, “Punish me.”
A harrowed look shadows Ben’s face as he searches mine.
“You say you want c-control,” I fumble a bit, pausing. I have to do this…I have to give him this…He needs it, I tell myself.
“You say you want control,” I say more convincingly. “And I’m giving you that control over my body.”
His breath catches audibly and his eyes widen. His chest heaves and his nostrils flex to accommodate his labored breaths.
“I don’t…” He swallows then continues, “I don’t wish to hurt you, Sullivan. I am not like that.”
“I don’t want you to hurt me, Ben.” I take his hand and I wrap it around my neck then slide it down to my breasts and around to my behind. “Punish me.”
Ben hisses as he rounds my ass, gripping it tightly. I groan against his chest, missing his touch. I pull away from him and he straightens, steeling himself once again. I slide the nightgown off my shoulders and let it pool around my feet. I am completely naked when I crawl onto the bed.
On hands and knees, facing away from him, I bid him, “Spank me, Ben.”
He bunches his hands at his sides, clenching his teeth, closing his eyes; visibly warring with himself.
“Please,” I beg. “I need this. You need this.”
When he opens his eyes, they’re on fire. His eyes flare an intensity that makes my core clench. I watch him with carnal interest as he pads toward the double doors. He clicks the lock and with that, my fate is subject to his whims.
He doffs his shirt, revealing his taut chest and that oh so sexy tattoo over his right pectoral. I bite my bottom lip, hungry for him.
“Understand this: you do not top from the bottom with me,” he says in a stern, commanding voice; sending pleasurable zings through my core. I nod, too afraid that a moan will trip from my lips.
“Are you sure about this, Sullivan?” His voice rumbles, running through me like an electric charge.
“Yes,” I pant, my light skin flushing crimson. I am so hungry for Ben that the slightest touch will send me over the edge.
Ben growls and approaches me like an animal. He circles my ass with his hand and places a light kiss on it. I shudder at contact, my core clenching and watering.
“Do you have a safe word?” he breathes.
I don’t have to think about it. “Adonis,” I reply, my voice low, dripping with salacious need.
Ben pauses and I hear him chuckle. Then, he slips two fingers inside me, working them lazily.
“That’s my name, love,” he whispers.
“You start me, Ben…” I begin, panting headily. “And you…can end me.” My voice is but a deep tremor when I speak, surely not my own. I am so hungry for him, I can hardly conceal the carnality lacing my speech. I need him more than I’ve ever needed anyone else.
Ben stills once more, possibly taking in what I’d just said. Before I can ask what is wrong, he lunges his fingers deep into me, digging his way to my sweet spot. I moan loudly, gripping the sheets beneath me. That feels sooo good.
“Do you know what you do to me, my sweet girl?”
“I drive you crazy?” I whimper, questioningly.
“You don’t sound sure,” he lures, pounding deep into me.
“I drive you crazy!” I shout, moaning as he starts rubbing my starved clit.
“Yes,” he purrs. “You do.”
Ben’s fingers disappear and before I know it, wham! He slaps my ass. I feel the sweet sting and my body sings with pleasure. I bellow a moan needing to feel the sensation again and he obliges me, caressing the spot he slapped then slapping me again.
“Ben!” I groan, grinding against his punishing palms.
“Keep still,” he orders through gritted teeth, caressing then slapping my ass yet again. He thrusts his fingers inside me and rubs my clit simultaneously.
My stinging behind and his ministrations create such a heady mix that I collapse into a climax, pounding the bed as I scream helplessly into the sheets.
“You have a glorious ass, Sullivan,” Ben chokes out, his voice thick with arousal. How can he stand it, not taking me, when his very voice tells such a desperate tale? Surely he has to throw control to the wind and ravage me at any minute.
But Ben is not finished. He scoots me back to my knees and swats my ass hard. This time, it’s pain that I feel. Then, it’s his mouth on me, eating away at my quivering center.
“Oh, God. Please just fuck me, Ben. I can’t stand it,”
I plead, my arms and legs trembling, about to fall into another orgasm.
His palm connects with my stinging ass again. “What did I say?” he growls. Oh, yeah, topping from the bottom. “I will stop when I’m satisfied.” Ben dips his tongue into my dripping core and tongue-fucks me to another orgasm.
But still he’s not through.
Ben squeezes my ass and slaps me twice in quick succession, both hitting the apex of my thighs, sending me over the top yet again. I fall on the bed, my legs a gelatinous mess.
If Ben keeps this up, I may have to safeword. My ass is stinging, my body singing with pleasure, my mind in a daze, my legs are Jell-O, and my pussy, sore. These endorphins are firing through my system like an Uzi. I don’t know if I can take much more.
And to my horror, he isn’t through. Dragging me off the bed, Ben stands me up then bends me over.
“Reach your hands over your head and grab onto the sheets,” he commands in a hot, raspy voice. His voice prickles my awareness and my core clenches in response. Okay, so maybe I can go again.
I reach up and grab the sheets as Ben spreads my legs. He hits me hard once more and this time tears prick my eyes. Shit that hurt.
“I am going to fuck you hard, Sullivan. This will be quick. I’ve been hard since you said you wanted me to have control of your body. Do I?” Ben asks, his voice an arousing bass.
“Yes,” I rasp. Right now, he fucking owns me. I am willing to say anything, do anything for him at this point, because frankly, I am lost in him. I. Am. His.
Ben plunges into me, a tortured moan escaping him. He pounds me mercilessly, groaning loudly, breathing harshly. Over and over and I am utterly spent, coming with every thrashing stroke in my sex.
“No more,” I beg. It has only been five minutes and I can’t stand anymore. The pleasure is just too much
“Take it all,” Ben grounds out. I whimper as I build again.
“This is my punishment to give,” he mumbles as he slaps my behind hard and caresses it in succession.
Ben is ruthless, ferocious; a beast, wild and hungered. He is pained. Starved of me. Robbed of control because of me. And I am giving it back to him by willing TO him my body.
As I climb higher, I almost pass out. I am exhausted. I don’t think I can handle another toe-curling orgasm; I would simply die from the immense pleasure of it. I want to safeword, desperately, but I know how important it is for him to regain control; control I take from him constantly with my precocious personality and desire to challenge him at every turn. He needs to possess me, and me safewording would defeat that purpose. So I soak up the pleasure that seems more like punishment now.
“Fuck, Sullivan. Squeeze me. Squeeze that tight little pussy around my cock,” Ben implores, gripping my hips and slowing his drives.
I gather as much strength as I can find and clamp down on his rigid length. Ben lets loose a strained moan and picks up the pace, launching into me with hard lunges before stiffening and coming violently inside of me.
“Ah, fuck!” he groans loudly, pumping me full of his warm liquid.
I take it all, loving being filled with him. This is such an intoxicating moment. Ben is deep inside my pussy and he stays there for I don’t know how long, relentlessly emptying himself into me.
When he is finished, he shifts out of me and collapses onto the bed, enfolding my shaking body in his arms. He kisses me all over, squeezing me to him. His lips brush against my hair, my neck, my shoulders and he moans in appreciation. The whole thing is reverential.
Inhaling deeply, Ben whispers, “I thought I’d lost you.”
“You did for a moment,” I respond, remembering the past few days without him.
“I don’t know what I was thinking when I sent that text. I was being foolish,” he reveals, nuzzling my neck. “I was going out of my mind. When you told me to have a happy life, my heart broke in two. I made Simon follow you around just so I could know you were safe.”
“I was,” I say.
“You weren’t,” he objects harshly. “When Simon told me you didn’t want him following you around anymore, I was so pissed. How could you not understand that it was just so I could ensure you were safe? Things had gone from good to messed up with us too fast, I wanted to fix things. I had to come back and I’m glad I did, considering how I found you.”
“Why did you come back, Ben? Huh? Is it because I was at some frat party?” I argue, pissed off. There was no need for him to be jealous or stalk my every move when we were nothing. I scream inwardly at him because it’s then that I know he was only letting Simon drive me around because he felt guilty.
“I know what goes on at frat parties, Sullivan. I remember that much when I used to be part of a frat.” He sighs and shudders behind me.
“I was scared for you and with good reason. Look at how I found you? You almost fucking died. I almost lost you. How can I ever trust you to take care of yourself?” he chides.
“Why do you keep saying that?” I assert, annoyed, ignoring his last question, a rhetorical one at most. “You almost lost me? I’m nothing to you, Ben. Just someone you can blow your load in.” I pull away from him wanting to get up. He is so confusing.
Ben tugs me to face him and grabs my neck, holding me in place. I feel his intensity – if I don’t see it in his searing green eyes – when he says, “Don’t ever…fucking say that again.” His voice is stony and cold. A chill runs through me.
My heart pounds in my chest, but not because of fear. He loosens his grip, brushes the hair from my face and kisses my forehead. What a 360.
“You mean a lot to me, Sullivan. And you know I hate this…arrangement.” He gestures between us and sighs. “I want to be more. I want to mean more to you than just a fuck buddy. But until then, I’ll take you any way I can get you, even though the thought of not possessing you completely drives me crazy.”
I want to tell him, I do. I want to tell him that I like him more than I can stand. That I secretly yearn to be more as well. That I want him to possess me completely. But I’m too scared.
When Ben and I resurface, we head into the kitchen where Rachel has prepared lunch. He had rubbed my aching bottom with baby oil after placing an ice pack on it and we ended up lying facing each other, studying each other. He traced my lips while I traced the beautiful contours of his face. He has such a strong jaw. So, by the time we were ready to get some much needed grub, the ache from my spanking had subsided.
As we eat, I find out that I had been asleep for twenty-seven hours. No wonder I’m so hungry. And sex hadn’t helped my hunger plight either. My system had been pumped early Saturday morning and I was then sent home by sunrise, with the services of a private doctor. I thank Ben with a kiss and we eat the rest of our lunch hand in hand. It all seems very…comfortable, and the panic that I expect to have with this revelation never comes.
Ben’s kitchen is huge. It’s a beautiful, traditional kitchen with a modern flare. In the middle is a dark marble island, with matching high chairs, which contrasts against the white prominence of the room. His kitchen is well equipped with the usual appliances, but his large stove and oven catch my eye as the size of them are things you see only in a restaurant or on a TV cooking show. I can’t see Ben doing his own cooking though, and I wonder what he would need with a stove and separate oven. As a matter of fact, what in the world is he doing with a six bedroom house as a bachelor? Does he have a family that I don’t know about?
After lunch, Ben gives us a grand tour, holding my hand the entire time. Simone is more excited about that than I am, shooting me wide grins and quiet claps of glee. I shake my head at her joy, but inside I’m doing cartwheels. This feels good and I think I like this feeling.
Ben has a fitness center at the back of his house, with a basketball, tennis court and swimming pool. He explains that he decided against an exercise room as he prefers to work out with a trainer at a gym.
We walk by a security room and he tells us that the grounds have 24-hour security and
cameras set up at various areas. Ah, yes, a rich man has to have unnecessary security to maintain control.
Ben takes us back inside and into a room he calls the leisure room. It is a large space with a single black piano, a large oil painting of a mother lifting her child above her, and a white chaise lounge. Everything in the room is white. Large white doors and windows and white drapery surround the room. Somehow, I am drawn to the almost bleak but serene nature of the room. I am drawn to the piano and immediately I want to sit around it and tap out a sad tune. Seeing the piano brings me back to days as a teenager when I was under the tutelage of Samuel Kissinger…while he was under me. All that aside, he was a great piano instructor.
I pull my gaze to Rachel and she’s shooting me a wry look with a knowing smile. Yeah, she knows what I’m thinking about. She knows the story very well. She knows me very well.
After the tour, Rachel, Simone and I hug and say our goodbyes, saying they want to give us some more time to bang like feral rabbits. I roll my eyes at their insinuation. It’s not like I could leave anyway. For one, Ben doesn’t want me to leave; and two, I don’t want to leave.
“Hey, I’ve gotta go into town. I could take Rachel and Simone home,” Ben suggests as we all stand at the garage.
“And what should I do until you get back?” I ask, rocking on my heels and toes.
“Make yourself at home,” he answers, smiling amusingly at me. “And keep out of trouble.” He kisses me on the nose and slips into another of his sleek luxury cars, a white Bentley Continental.
I wave to my girls as they head out with my friend with benefits and I smile. Last Sunday I was turning down Ben’s offer and today I’m standing in front of his house in a silk nightgown he bought me. That reminds me, I have no clothes. I’d have to send Rachel a message to put some clothes together for school on Monday.
Inside, I wash up the dishes we’d left behind and, afterwards, head into the master bedroom to bring some semblance to the sex-ruffled room.
Tainted Love (Book 1) Page 17