by Ranae Rose
He nodded. It wouldn’t happen.
“Do you have anywhere else you need to be today?” she asked.
“No.” As if he’d leave her, even if he’d had plans. He usually went to the gym on Sundays, but right now, that was the farthest thing from his mind.
“Then do you want to watch a movie?” She reached out and touched his hand.
His pulse picked up speed and her heat radiated up his arm and through his body, the temptation at odds with his shame.
“Whatever you want.”
* * * * *
Hannah and Ben made it through a movie and a half – the kind you watched when you were sick or otherwise deprived of better things to do – before he got restless.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I’m low on groceries, but we could order something in.”
“Do you need to go shopping?” He met her eyes, ignoring the TV. “I can drive you to the store.”
“I was planning to make a trip today, before everything that happened last night. I’d be lying if I said I felt like grocery shopping now, though.” She also looked like crap and wasn’t keen on the idea of wrangling herself into a bra and real shirt in order to go out into public. “I think I’d rather live on takeout for a couple days.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to leave you here with no food. Why don’t you stay and finish the movie while I pick up some groceries for you?”
“You don’t have to do that.” He was already stressed and tired. Plus, his face had to feel as awful as it looked, with the blue and purple bruise swirling over one cheekbone.
“I want to.” He stood and stretched. “Be back in an hour.”
She frowned. “I can handle a couple days of delivery pizza and sandwiches. In fact, part of me will secretly enjoy it.”
He shook his head. “You need food in the house. I’m going.”
There was no convincing him to stay. It was all she could do to press her debit card into his hand before he left.
Alone in her apartment, she stewed in guilt while she pretended to watch the rest of the movie.
Ben had to be feeling just as badly as she was – probably worse. And yet, he’d thrown himself so aggressively into doing things for her. Helping her with her brace, her clothes. Giving her mind-numbing pleasure and refusing to take any for himself. Now, running her errands.
It all filled her with a burning desire to reciprocate, to ease his suffering. But what relief did she have in her power to give him, other than physical pleasure?
And he refused that out of some twisted sense of guilt.
She chewed on her inner lip, knowing she was the only one who should feel guilty. Ben was selfless, sweet, fiercely caring… And she’d gotten him into this mess.
God, if only she could do the night before over.
But she couldn’t. That fact weighed on her as she waited for him to return, first an hour, then an hour and a half. She was debating whether to call and check on him when a knock came at her front door.
Relief swept through her when she answered the door, but it didn’t last long. The tense expression on Ben’s face rekindled her worry.
She shouldn’t have let him go.
“Thank you so much,” she said as he carried in more than half a dozen bags of groceries all at once. “Wow, you bought a lot of stuff. You paid for it with my debit card, right?”
“Forgot,” he said.
Her jaw dropped. “Ben! Tell me you didn’t pay for this with your own money.”
He had to have spent a couple hundred dollars.
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
The hell it wasn’t.
“There’s more in the car,” he said, and disappeared.
She started sorting through the bags and putting things away as her guilt multiplied.
Why did Ben feel responsible for her injury? As disgusted with herself as she was for causing the situation, she wished he’d see the truth, which was that it was her fault, not his.
Her fault and her attacker’s fault. Ben was the only truly blameless person involved in the whole thing, yet he was the one paying the highest price.
She sighed as she put away groceries. Ben must’ve filled up a cart with food. There was plenty of everything: fresh fruits and vegetables, snacks and a bag of coffee grounds big enough to last her through an apocalypse. A family-sized pack of tortillas and two whole pounds of ground beef. She wouldn’t have to grocery shop for a week, at least.
“I’ve got it,” he said when he returned to the kitchen.
He whisked a shopping bag out of her hands and started piling the items in her fridge and cupboards.
“Hey,” she said. “Let me help – you must be exhausted. And by the way, I’m definitely reimbursing you for the groceries.”
“I’m fine,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her last comment. “I’ll cook for you. Do you like tacos?”
“Yes, but I say we just order in and relax.”
He was every bit as stubborn as he had been about going to the store. Before she knew it, he was simmering ground beef on the stove – all two pounds of it.
She helped by mixing two seasoning packets with water, although he scowled at her as she did it.
“I hope you’re going to eat at least a dozen of these,” she said, watching him dice a tomato. “There’s no way I’ll be able to eat all that meat on my own before it goes bad.”
When the tacos were ready, he did eat with her, though he only finished a taco and a half.
“There’s ice cream for dessert,” he said.
“Do you want some?” She glanced toward the fridge.
“No.”
Well, then, neither did she.
“Thanks for dinner. And the groceries. Everything.”
“It’s nothing.”
“That’s not true. Anyway… Do you want to watch another movie?”
It was a lame suggestion, but she didn’t want him to leave yet. He looked so tense, so tired. It’d be good for him to lie down and relax, and a movie would be the perfect excuse.
“Sure.”
Hannah put minimal effort into choosing another movie, and they watched it from her bed again, reclining with pillows between their backs and the wall.
She had a hard time focusing on the movie and doubted it was any different for him.
He looked so withdrawn, and she ached to change that – to light up the parts of him that made his expression so dark. She knew he was inside his own head, worrying about his criminal charges. She couldn’t blame him, and she couldn’t resist him, either.
The kiss she pressed against his jaw was light, and the dark stubble there scraped her lips in a way that sent a little shiver down her spine. She kissed the corner of his mouth next, and then he turned toward her.
It wasn’t to ask what she was doing or reject her attention – it was to kiss her back.
CHAPTER 18
Hannah’s lips did what her words didn’t: enticed Ben beyond all reason, shoving his guilt onto the backburner.
Her breath on his lips, her heat and the taste of her tongue when he pushed his into her mouth: it all felt so, so good. Every kiss from her was a staggering dopamine hit to his starved brain, a pleasure he didn’t deserve but couldn’t turn away from.
The desire he’d kept bottled up since their encounter in the shower overwhelmed him, obliterating the self-control he’d clung to earlier that day.
Fuck it all. He couldn’t deny himself – or her – any longer.
She leaned into him, and he placed a hand against the small of her back. He wanted to bury the other in her hair, but didn’t dare for fear of hurting her shoulder.
The more deeply he kissed her, the more enthusiastically she responded, until she was rubbing his hard dick through his jeans.
The pleasure blindsided him, made him lose his rhythm as he succumbed to a groan. The tension that’d gripped him the night before disappeared, overshadowed by gratification. It felt like the world’s greatest magic trick.
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She kept it up until he was in real danger of coming.
He pulled back to avoid it, broke off the kiss.
“Damn it,” she said. “I want to undo your jeans, but it’s hard one-handed.”
The thought of her hand around his cock hit him with stunning, irresistible clarity. He undid his jeans, his qualms buried beneath an avalanche of desire.
The second his hard-on rose between the parted zipper teeth, she had her hand on it, around it, warming his already hot skin with friction from root to tip.
By the time she stopped, he was seconds from coming all over her hand.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Fuck. Yes.”
She stood up at the edge of the bed.
Her clothes were practically non-existent. The thin cotton tank top stretched over her breasts was nothing but a tease, and her shorts were short. Her breasts – still braless – bounced with every movement, and her nipples were hard. He couldn’t look away.
He touched her – to stop her – when she started pulling her top’s skinny straps down over her arms.
He was too late – the top slipped down, useless without them, baring her breasts.
They were level with his face, so close he could’ve leaned forward and put his mouth on them. He wanted to succumb, to press his face against their curves and suck on her nipples.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, feeling bad because he wanted to do those things – wanted her – no matter what. His cock was throbbing and he couldn’t imagine forcing it back into his jeans.
“Then be careful,” she said, slipping her good arm beneath her top and removing it altogether.
He forced himself not to reach out and yank down her shorts, then shove his fingers between her thighs and rub her pussy lips to see if they were wet.
She touched his face, cupping his jaw. “Ben… I can’t stand us keeping each other at an arm’s length. Not after what we’ve been through. Not with you sitting here like that.”
She nodded at his lap, where his hard-on stood tall and ready. “I want to be close to you. I’m not afraid of you hurting me. I know you won’t. You’ve been so careful with me since last night.”
After last night, it was a relief to know she didn’t think he was capable of harming her. It felt good to have her trust. Because apparently, the rest of the world thought he was so violent he needed to be locked up.
“Help me get this thing off,” she said, nodding toward the brace. “It makes it hard to feel sexy.”
He did.
Afterward, he cupped one of her breasts, palmed it and teased her nipple with his thumb before leaning forward and closing his lips around it.
She moaned the second he drew it into his mouth and began to suck. Moaned and cupped the back of his skull with her good hand, pressing his face against her breast.
He was lost, then – completely stripped of his reservations. He’d do whatever she asked.
* * * * *
Hannah hadn’t realized it could feel so good to have someone’s mouth on her breast. But it did; the pleasure was melting her from the inside out. Ben didn’t do anything in half measures. Not defending her, not taking care of her. Not even grocery shopping, and definitely not this.
She couldn’t get enough of him. Her other nipple ached for his touch: his lips, teeth and tongue.
It was a long time before he turned his attention to her other breast, cupping it from below and covering her nipple with his open mouth without hesitation or teasing.
She could feel her panties clinging to her pussy lips, and then he yanked them down without forewarning, along with her shorts.
The heat was running in her apartment, but the air felt cool against her hot flesh. When he placed a hand between her legs and rubbed, he moaned. Within seconds, he was parting her folds and pushing a finger inside her.
He came away wet – she could feel it. And then he touched her clit, rubbing while still sucking on her nipple, making her dizzy with pleasure.
He raised his head from her breast. “Sit down on the bed.”
She missed his touch, but it was a relief to sit down. Her head stopped spinning immediately, at least until he kissed her.
It was like picking up where they’d left off: so good, she was almost content to do nothing else.
Almost. When they stopped and he finally took off his clothes, her heart leapt, jarring against her ribs.
He opened her dresser drawer and took one of the condoms, meeting her eye as he ripped it open and rolled it on.
She tensed with anticipation and a dull ache radiated from her shoulder down her arm. It did nothing to tarnish her excitement. This felt long overdue.
“Does lying down hurt your shoulder?” he asked.
She stared at his hard cock. “Not much.”
“Would you rather be on top?”
She considered both options: lying beneath him, or riding him. Both had their appeal.
“Yes,” she said eventually. The last thing she wanted was for him to change his mind because she winced or showed some small sign of pain. Straddling him would prevent anything from touching her shoulder and minimize that chance.
He reclined on the bed and she eased herself on top of him, her heart racing. She steadied herself with her good arm while he gripped his cock at the base, holding it so the head pressed against her clit.
The tease sent a shiver rolling through her, and every bit of her skin tingled. Rising up, she let the tip of his dick rest against her pussy lips, pausing for a second before sinking down.
Lowering herself onto him like that was the best use of gravity she could think of. The moment his hardness parted her folds, she was reminded how thick he was, how good he felt. Feeling it was different than seeing, different than remembering. The idea of the sensation becoming familiar was enticing, but for now, the novelty of being stretched this way was exhilarating.
It wasn’t something she could imagine ever getting enough of. He was perfect, and who wouldn’t want that again and again?
He groaned when she stopped, when he was buried to the root inside her.
She gasped and shifted, which hurt a little, in a good way. His hardness made her aware of a throbbing in her core, one that echoed the way her pulse fluttered in her temples and fingertips. She was conscious of her body in a way she normally wasn’t, and her shoulder felt better than it had since the night before.
He gave her enough pleasure to dull her pain.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he said before rocking his hips, making her gasp again.
There was no way she’d tell him, even if it did. Instead, she rocked back. It felt good, especially since her clit pressed against his groin when she did it.
But he didn’t leave it to that, or to her. He touched her clit, just like he had the last time.
It quickly increased her wetness and the tight feeling in her center. The friction generated by his thrusting cock became more intense, more overwhelming. She felt it in every fiber of her being, and it was all she could think of.
She came hard, like it had been forever, as if he hadn’t pushed her to ecstasy in the shower hours ago. Her pussy shrank around his shaft and he moaned, fucking her harder.
In that moment, it was obvious he’d finally stopped holding back, stopped treating her like glass. His sudden force multiplied her pleasure, drawing out her climax until she was breathing as if she’d just run for miles. She didn’t try to slow it until the last shuddering waves of bliss ebbed away, leaving her buzzing with the memory of intensity.
“Fuck, Hannah…” He removed his hand from her clit and placed it on her ass instead, squeezing. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t stand it.”
Another thrill raced through her, sparking aftershocks of pleasure. His words made her blush, which was absurd, considering that he was buried balls-deep inside her and had just pushed her to orgasm.
Still, he’d finally let go, had finally dropped the defenses
he’d put up in order to protect her and punish himself. This was what she’d wanted all day: to see him in the grip of pleasure that crushed everything else, at least for a little while.
Being able to give that to him was a thrill. It didn’t make her feel any less guilty over the situation he was in, but it did make her happy despite it all.
The stress lines were gone from his face now. His brow was furrowed, but with focus and effort. She wasn’t sure whether he was trying to hold back or speed things up, but he was close.
His muscles were tense – rock-hard beneath her, almost as hard as he was inside her. He gripped her ass like he was never going to let go, as if how tightly he squeezed correlated directly to his pleasure.
She liked having that link with his state of mind, liked feeling him hold her so close and so hard.
Bracing herself with a hand on his shoulder, she prepared for the climax she could feel mounting. She was just in time. He thrust into her with a groan, making her bounce and holding her down with one hand on her ass and another on her hip.
He made her cry out, made her ache – made her sorry it was over.
When he was still, she wanted to lie down on top of him, where she could feel his heart beating. But her shoulder would’ve made that awkward and uncomfortable, so she settled for leaning down just far enough to kiss him instead.
He responded with surprising enthusiasm, running his tongue along the length of hers until it was deep in her mouth.
She didn’t want it to end, but it did, and she climbed off of him then.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling the full condom off his still-hard cock and dropping it into the wastebasket.
“More than okay.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Of course not. Don’t act modest, like you don’t know I enjoyed that.”
“I know you did. I just hope you don’t regret it.”
“Why would I?”
“Because this is only temporary, now.” He looked away. “That’s hard for me. I thought it might be hard for you too.”
She touched his face, stroked his jawline with her fingertips. “What do you mean, only temporary? There’s no expiration date on any of this. Things will turn out okay.” She hoped, anyway. Hoped desperately. “Don’t assume the worst; you’ll drive yourself crazy.”