I take my soup and bread and sit on the steps. Sure enough, Ben is swimming laps along the shore. I smile as I nibble on the bread and slurp my soup. He’s nimble in the water. I wonder if he’d be good in bed… something about his eyes, his confidence, tells me he would be phenomenal. I laugh to myself. Why am I even thinking of him in that way? The Puerto Rican sun is obviously making me crazy.
Ben finishes his workout and grabs his towel laying in the sand. I admire his toned back, his broad shoulders, his tapered waist…
He waves up at me. My mouth drops open because he must’ve realized that I’ve been staring, practically drooling. Closing my mouth quickly, I wave back casually. I think I see him wink, and the notion that he might’ve winked stirs up all kinds of lustful things in my belly. Who am I? Normally, I’m so calm and confident around guys. Maybe it’s the experiences I had in college—one guy after the other—but I know what guys want and I know how to use what I have to lure them in.
Not with Ben. With Ben, I’m questioning everything… most importantly, my sanity.
He dries off and comes clamoring up the stone steps. I have to avert my eyes because all I want to do is watch how the fabric of his wet shorts clings to his toned thighs. I want to know what kind of man Benny Adler turned out to be.
“Hey,” he says, plopping down next to me. The sound of his wet shorts reminds me of sex. Everything reminds me of sex lately. “How was your nap?”
I shrug. “I feel all groggy now. Like my head is in the clouds.” I don’t tell him that the sight of his chest makes me dizzy. Or the fact that the water dripping off his face incites the lecherous woman inside of me. His hair is slicked back with water, exposing his forehead and making him seem more manly, if that’s even possible. He leans forward and watches me with a cocked head, resting his jaw in his hand.
“What did you do to my shirt?” he asks, reaching a hand over and fingering the cut fabric along my shoulder. His hand traces across the jagged seam, and then his hand drops like he’s been stung. I have to remind myself to exhale.
“I figured I’d give myself something cuter to wear. I’m sick of your boring t-shirts,” I tease, swatting him on the shoulder.
“Well, I can think of another way to combat your hostility toward my shirts,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling. “Go topless.”
It warms my heart to see him so free, so happy. Whatever battle he was fighting those first few days, it seems the true Ben Adler has won out. He’s carefree, uninhibited, and best of all, he makes me laugh.
“You’re right. I should totally walk around, tits flying. What say you?”
He leans back and arches his eyebrows. “Where do I sign?”
I giggle, leaning into him and bumping my shoulder with his. “Maybe it’s a good thing we had seventeen years apart. I wouldn’t have been able to resist your cheesy philandering as a teenager.” Standing, I grab my bowl and tray. “I’m going to go do dishes.” I look down and smile. Ben is watching me with a bewildered look.
I turn and walk away before I do something stupid. I set everything into the large, laundry-room-style sink. I start to lather up the soup bowl when I feel warm hands wrap around my waist. I twist around, dropping the bowl into the sink with a loud clatter.
“Jesus, Ben! You scared the shit out of m—”
“Just shut up and let me fucking kiss you,” he growls, placing his hands on either side of me, resting them against the sink and pinning me against him. He bends down quickly, crashing his lips with mine, latching on with such ferocity, such hunger, like he’s releasing every emotion he’s ever felt into me… everything from the last ten days, from the last seventeen years. It’s amazing how much longing I feel—how right this feels—when he presses himself against me and shows me exactly what I was missing all those years. I was curious, and now I know.
His tongue digs deep, penetrating and causing my insides to slide against each other. I move my hands up his abdomen, placing them around his neck as he deepens the kiss. His mouth is hot and wet, and his tongue is swirling and out of control. I can taste the salt from his lips, the milkiness of his breath, the sounds of his arousal as he grunts into my mouth, completely satisfied.
“Nina,” he murmurs into my mouth. “God, you taste so fucking good,” he growls, slamming his lips against mine again. I moan into him.
“Ben,” I whimper, just as he lifts me up and onto the edge of the sink. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as he places one hand on the wall behind us, and another busies itself undoing the tie on his shorts. “Yes,” I whisper, as he trails kisses down my neck. “More.” It seems we can only break away for one word at a time.
With gentle force, he reaches down and pulls my shorts to the ground, lifting me up slightly to do so. He’s not slow about it this time. Reaching under my shirt and pushing it up, he bends down and begins to suck on each nipple, softly and excruciatingly slowly.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, arching my back and throwing my head behind me as his teeth move up and graze my neck. He pulls the shirt over my head, and before I know it, I’m completely naked before him. I expect him to drop his pants and have his way with me, but instead, he pulls back and studies me with such fierce longing, I actually blush. The guy is already practically fucking me, and his gaze makes me blush.
“You’re stunning,” he rasps, stirring some deep-rooted emotion inside of me. “Fucking perfect.”
I want to say I’m not. I want to show him all of the imperfections I find every day in the mirror. Instead, his eyes trace over every inch of my body, and I let him do this without any commentary.
In three seconds, the distance becomes too much to bear for him. He rushes forward and connects his lips with mine again. Instead of undressing, he parts my legs with one of his knees. Everything rushes to the place between my thighs, awareness prickling my body as his hand traces down my stomach, lower, lower…
“Can I?” he asks, his breath in my ear.
“Can you what?” I whisper.
My breathing halts as he shows me, his fingers inching along my entrance. I nod once, and he pushes one finger inside of me. Two. I gasp, the feeling completely familiar yet completely foreign. This is the real deal. Intimate, intense, raw. Before, it was always a quick finger bang before sex. This is deliberate.
“Jesus, you’re wet,” he growls, thrusting into me harder. His fingers curl ever so slightly, and I lose control on his hand.
“Oh my God,” I repeat, not knowing what else to say.
Not caring what else, I should say.
I’ve been reduced to a pleasure-seeking creature—just a writhing, fluid body and nothing else. Ben presses a thumb into the spot where I need it the most, upping his pace.
“So long,” he murmurs, his face hard with concentration. “So long I’ve wanted to do this.” He nips my lower lip. His left hand is still supporting himself on the wall behind me, so I reach down and begin to play with my breasts. “Yes,” he rasps, his eyes bright and cerulean. He dips his head lower and sucks where my hands just were.
The combined senses of his fingers inside of me and his tongue on me sets me off quicker than I could’ve imagined. The thrusting, the circular motion of his thumb… I quake under him, my release imminent. I struggle to breath, to stay upright… I’m completely and totally overwhelmed with Ben and the ease with which he caused this firestorm inside of me. He presses his erection against me and I completely let go.
“Ben… oh my God,” I cry out, throwing my head back and unleashing everything. I spiral down, shaking as I feel the last of it leave my body. My legs turn to jelly, and I have to grip into Ben’s shoulder so that I don’t fall over. I’m paralyzed, sated, and speechless all at the same time.
T W E N T Y - T H R E E
Ben—Present
Isla Culebrita, Puerto Rico
I AM COMPLETELY at Nina’s mercy.
As I withdraw my fingers from inside of her, she slumps against me, breathing heavily. I can�
�t say for sure what caused me to follow her down here and do that, but I’m fucking glad I did. Not that it’s over—not even by a long shot. I want her—over, and over, and over again. I can feel my need pulsating against her, begging to take her. I want to watch her as I draw more physical pleasure out of her.
I might be the one doing this to her, but unbeknownst to her, she is slowly wrapping her soul around my heart, intertwining us together. Physically, I could feel the need for her everywhere. Emotionally, it was even deeper, digging into me and growing roots.
Nina is still shaking when she sits up and looks at me with a lazy grin. “I told you I wouldn’t be able to resist you,” she says boldly.
I smile, knowing full well it’s the lopsided, charming one I usually use to get my way with women. “I think that was me who couldn’t resist you, Nina.”
She gives me a shy smile, and I take the time to trace her skin with my eyes once more.
Fucking perfect. Everything about her. Little does she know, I will devour every single millimeter, whether she likes it or not. Something primal ignites within me, and the need to take her every which way becomes urgent.
“I want to be a gentleman and ask permission, but I don’t think I have the willpower,” I growl, backing up and untying my shorts. I let them drop. Watching Nina watch me is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced. Her eyes go wide, and she audibly sucks in a ragged breath. Her nipples harden instantly. I begin to stroke myself, watching as her body has an animalistic reaction. To me.
“See that?” I ask, taking a slow step forward. “See how much I want you? How much I need you?” I take another step closer; close enough to bend down and whisper in her ear. “Let me give you pleasure,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Let me make it up to you. Everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve said. I take it all back. This… this is how I really feel.”
“Ben,” she whimpers, reaching out for me. I pull back.
“Listen to me, Nina,” I say, my voice a low growl. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. For everything. Let me do this for you. After everything you’ve done for me, after everything I’ve put you through…”
I drop to my knees and she gasps. “No, Ben, what are you doing?”
I grin and look up at her. “I have a lot of making up to do.”
Before she can respond, I scoot closer and pry her legs open again. Her sex is slick with need, and I glide my tongue along her opening. She lets out a low moan, spurring me on. I spread her legs wider, granting me full access to her. I flick my tongue back and forth, causing her to squirm.
“Oh my God,” she mumbles. She seems to like that phrase. I take note. I plunge two fingers inside of her quickly, and she cries out as my tongue whisks her everywhere else. “Ben,” she rasps, gripping my shoulder. I feel her tense. Her thighs snap shut, she arches her back, and her body turns to liquid as she comes on my hand. “Don’t stop,” she begs, throwing her head back and crying out impossibly loud, trembling until the waves subside. Slowly, she looks down at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I smile and pull my fingers out, licking my lips. “It was my pleasure, Nina.”
She laughs—a free-spirited, uninhibited laugh. When she’s done, her eyes go dark. “Your turn,” she says boldly, hopping down and urging me gently onto the floor. I shriek when the cold stone hits my naked back.
“Jesus, the floor is cold,” I hiss under my breath. She smirks as she straddles me, and it takes me a few seconds to form my next sentence. I have a clear view of her from here—large, round breasts, a thin waist, hips and an ass I can hold onto—and I take everything about her in, silently.
Bloody fucking perfect.
Again, I’m reduced to simple phrases. Warm thighs. Soft sides. I reach up and caress her. She closes her eyes and lets me. Pink nipples. Soft hair. Softer face. Softest breasts.
“We don’t have a condom,” I say, my voice glum. I stocked this island to the brim, and while it may be lacking shampoo and possibly an assortment of clothes, all of which I can live without, I can’t believe I forgot the fucking condoms. Then again, when I brought her here, I didn’t think I’d ever need them.
“Ben,” she murmurs, placing a finger on my lips. “It’s okay. I get the shot. Depo-Provera. It prevents pregnancy for three months.”
I stare at her, trying to decipher that jumble of words. “Depo what?”
“I can’t get pregnant. I got my last shot nine weeks ago. Three weeks left,” she says, biting her lower lip. “If you’re uncomfortable…” she trails off.
“So you can’t get pregnant?” I ask, as she moves back and forth across my dick. Jesus.
“Nope. Not unless you keep me captive for longer than three weeks. Are you clean?”
I nod. “Checked every three months.”
She rears her head back. “My God, you really are a manwhore, aren’t you?”
I laugh. “My job requires it, Nina. And I can assume you’re clean too?” I ask, nudging the tip of my cock into her entrance.
“Yes,” she answers, her eyes darkening.
I’ve never been inside a woman without a condom before. It’s fitting that she’s the first—the first woman I am skin to skin with.
Only her. As if my body, my soul, knew to wait.
I don’t ask for permission to enter her. We both gasp as I slowly fill her to the brim. “My God, Nina,” I hiss. “So fucking perfect.” It’s an intoxicating blend of senses all at once: the smell of her salted skin, the taste of her peppermint breath, the sight of her riding me, the feel her her silky, warm slit… my mind becomes erratic, monosyllabic, as she rides me slowly.
Warm.
Salt.
Yes.
Good.
Soft.
Nina.
Nina.
Nina…
“Ben,” she coos. She bends down to kiss me. Her hair tumbles onto my chest, and the potent mix of her scent and the feel of her everywhere are almost too much. I bite her lip gently, and she moans.
“I’m close,” she whispers, and I can feel my own orgasm tightening in my balls, like her words are the only kryptonite I need.
I can’t even answer her, but I reach up and stroke her face. I’m in awe. Nina fucking Cosway. She closes her eyes, and I can’t get enough of her tits bouncing. “Look at me, Nina,” I growl slowly. Her eyes fly open; the heavy darkness overtakes the usual light grey of her pupils. She’s in the midst of it here, with me.
“Come with me,” she pleads, curving her back and placing her hands behind her on my thighs so that she can get more friction. I love that she knows exactly what to do to make me come in two minutes flat.
“Jesus fuck,” I spit, and I start to see stars dancing in front of my eyes. My cock hardens and I feel myself start to empty into her.
“Holy shit,” she whispers. “I’m coming, Ben,” she breathes.
“Oh fuck,” I groan, thrusting into her hard as we both cry out. I spasm as the last of it leaves my body, and she quivers on top of me. Watching her come is single-handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. She slowly slumps over and kisses me softly, her lips like wet velvet.
“Wow,” she murmurs, pulling off me and flopping down next to me on the cold stone. Neither of us says anything for several minutes. The only sound I hear is the ticking of the clock and our heavy breathing. “Ben?” Her tinkling voice sounds so unsure, so urgent. I turn to face her.
“What’s up, love?” I reach out and stroke her face. Such a perfect face.
“Why didn’t that feel weird?”
I prop myself up on my elbows, bending down briefly to graze her lips with mine. “What do you mean?”
She mimics me, lifting herself up. “I mean… every time I sleep with someone new, there’s always a learning curve. Awkwardness. I’m always aware of them being them, and me being me. There’s a dividing line. With you, it felt… natural. Like we’d been doing that for years—like our bodies knew exactly what to do…”
I
smile. “I know what you mean. I don’t have the answer. But maybe it’s because we’ve known each other for so long, the years in between notwithstanding. Trust is important. A history is important. It makes the whole experience richer. Sleeping with your childhood friend is bound to mean more than some random guy off the street.”
She studies me for a beat before nodding. “How Freudian of you.”
I bark out a laugh. “Sex makes me wise,” I tease. “Come on. I want to show you the other beach.”
“What other beach?” she asks, her face lighting up.
“Exactly.” I stand up and reach my hand down for her.
She takes my hand without question, and I feel my heart grow large and uncertain at the same time as I envelope her small, soft hand with mine, pulling her up. I reach over and hand her a napkin so she can clean herself up.
When she’s done, her eyes dart across my face briefly, her brow knitting together ever so subtly as if she’s trying to decipher me. Apparently I’m not the only one mystified by today’s events. I feel her hand squeeze mine, and my heart nearly shatters.
She is giving herself to me unequivocally, wholly, unhindered—and it terrifies me because I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve anything that she’s giving me. Not a single fucking thing. But I’m letting her into my heart anyway. Slowly, she’s crawling in and nestling somewhere deep in my chest—somewhere I’ve kept hidden for years; reserved for her and her only.
Nina Cosway is the only person with the wherewithal to destroy me. And I don’t give a flying fuck, because being with her feels better than I ever could’ve imagined.
T W E N T Y - F O U R
Nina—Present
Isla Culebrita, Puerto Rico
I PULL MY clothes on haphazardly as Ben prepares a picnic lunch for us. He’s been holding out on me—preparing a mighty fine gourmet meal consisting of bread, frozen butter, some jam, and fresh bananas from his run yesterday. He also adds a platter of grilled chicken, (previously frozen)—something that sounds absolutely fucking delicious after ten days of canned soup. I watch him as he diligently packs everything up. His brow is furrowed in concentration, and his hair is mussed up from the sex.
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