“Please,” Ava answered, guiding my cock to her entrance with one hand, the other still tangled in my hair.
I met her gaze, addicted now to the look on her face as I slowly pushed into her.
She was as tight and as perfect as I’d remembered. More so, even. I never wanted to leave the sweet torture of her grip on me. As I began to move, Ava held my gaze, and it felt like we were panting in unison. She settled into my rhythm, and I moved slow and deep, dragging it out, wanting this moment to last forever. This moment where I could allow myself to believe this was real, that it wasn’t a fantasy threatening to crumble around me in an instant.
“Bennett,” Ava whispered, drawing my attention back to the moment. “Bennett, I want you. I want you in me. I want you... fucking me.” The word sent a shudder through us both, and I pulled back, almost withdrawing completely, before thrusting home again.
“Like this?” I breathed, though I remembered exactly how she liked to be fucked.
“Yes,” she answered, her head falling back as I finally allowed myself to give into my desire and thrust hard and deep within her core, sending us both racing toward our climax. Her fingernails dug into my shoulders when she came, pulling me close, holding me tight against her as I followed, burying my face in her shoulder, spilling everything I had into her.
For a long while, we just lay like that, my dick, now completely soft, just barely slipping out from her warm embrace. Eventually, I got up to find a washrag to clean us both off, and then climbed back into bed, scooping her into my arms.
“Ava,” I whispered, not knowing if I wanted to apologize, or confess, or what.
“Shh,” she said, tucking herself into my chest. “Just hold me right now.”
“Of course,” I answered. “Anything you want.”
Anything at all.
Damn, I was fucked.
Chapter 17
Ava
For the second time in my life, I woke up naked next to Bennett Campbell. This time, though, I could remember exactly why my muscles ached so pleasantly. By the time I opened my bleary eyes, Bennett was padding naked across the floor to the bathroom. I watched him as he went, allowing myself the opportunity to just observe and appreciate.
My husband was one handsome man. The thought made me feel warm and sort of gooey inside, and I wondered when that had become my reaction to the words “my husband.” I wanted him to come back. I wanted him in bed with me again and maybe forever. I still didn’t know why we’d waited so long to finally make love, but now that we had, I wanted it again and again.
I heard the water in the shower running and contemplated joining him, but I didn’t want to leave the coziness of this bed where I could still feel the warmth his body left behind, still smell his cologne on the pillow. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that way. It had been a year, at least, since I’d wanted to linger in bed with Ken; or since he’d wanted to linger in bed with me.
Deliberately pushing those thoughts aside, I shifted to press my face into Bennett’s pillow, breathing in his scent. I was still cozied up to it when he finally came out of the bathroom.
I lifted my head to smile at him, not caring that my hair was likely a mess and my eyes were sleep-puffed. “Morning, Cowboy,” I said, stretching leisurely across the king-sized mattress.
“Good morning to me, indeed,” he said with a grin, pulling back the covers and holding them up for a moment. I felt the heat of his gaze like a physical touch against my skin, and it sent a shiver through me that settled low in my belly, raising my temperature.
“Come here,” I murmured, my voice rough with sleep. He climbed into bed with me and pulled me into his arms, catching my lips with his for a slow, languorous kiss, one that I never wanted to end.
When he did pull back, it was only to trail light kisses down my throat and along my shoulder, pausing at the tiny birthmark that rested in the hollow of my throat, his tongue flicking over it.
“You’re perfect,” he said, and I beamed, unable to contain how happy that made me feel. It was the second time he’d said it. Ken had never called me perfect, never would have. He was too busy reminding me of all the things I still needed to improve, both as an actress and as a girlfriend.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, and he lifted his head to look at me.
“People don’t tell you that enough,” he noted, letting his fingers trace lazy, looping patterns over my skin, moving gradually down my body, stoking the heat that was already growing. “But you should hear it every day. You’re perfect. Everything about you. Even this.” He dipped his head to kiss my birthmark again. “Perfect.”
“They always cover it up,” I remarked idly. “For the show. Makeup always covers it.”
“Never again,” Bennett said. “Don’t let anyone cover you up again.”
He sounded so earnest, that I couldn’t help answering, “Okay,” though it was a little breathless as his fingertips teased through my curls, finding me already wet.
His lips trailed lazily down my body until they reached between my legs again. Slowly, his eyes on my face the whole time, he eased my thighs apart, settling between them and finally dipping his head. Instead of licking, though, he parted my labia with his fingers and just blew softly, sending a rush of surprise through me that bubbled out in a surprised laugh.
“All right?” he asked, smiling up at me.
“Very all right,” I answered, and then he did dip his head to drag his tongue over my folds. All I could do was hold on to his hair, murmuring encouragement. Twice in the space of twelve hours he’d gone down on me, and it made me feel decadent. Ken had almost never done that. I’d asked him to once, and he’d given it a half-hearted effort, but he said he didn’t enjoy it, and I shouldn’t ask him to do things he didn’t enjoy.
Bennett, on the other hand, seemed to take great pleasure in the task. His tongue worked over me eagerly, teasing and tickling and stroking before focusing directly on my clit, flicking lightning-fast over me, almost overwhelming me with sensation.
“Fuck,” I breathed. “Don’t... don’t stop. Just….” I felt my entire body seize up for a fraction of a second before an orgasm came crashing through me. This time Bennett was gentle, soothing me through the aftershocks of pleasure before dropping kisses across my stomach and chest on his way to my mouth. Once there, his lips and tongue brushed against me slow and sweet and easy, which was exactly how he slid into me—slow and sweet and easy. Lazy morning love making. I hadn’t done this in far, far too long, and I’d forgotten how perfect it was.
I’d forgotten how it felt to let pleasure creep up gradually, building and building until it could no longer be denied. Without warning, Bennett took hold of my hips and rolled onto his back, landing me on top of him. I gasped at the sudden change in position, and for a moment, I was at a loss for what to do.
“Ride me,” Bennett murmured, sliding a hand up my stomach to cup my breast, fingers teasing over one taut nipple. “I want to watch you.”
Breathing evenly, I began to move, first just a tentative roll of my hips, and then gradually settling into a smooth rhythm. I hadn’t realized before how good this could be. I’d never set my own pace, controlled my own penetration.
My hands came to rest on Bennett’s shoulders, and I settled into a rhythm that progressively increased in pace, until I was gripping his shoulders tightly, riding him for all I was worth. His cock felt enormous inside of me, filling me, pressing into me at the perfect angle. I ground my hips down onto his, and my climax came in such a rush that it took me by surprise. My eyes flew open, and I gasped Bennett’s name. In response, he squeezed my hips tightly, thrusting upwards, hard and deep, filling me again and again until he was coming too, my name on his lips.
I all but collapsed onto his chest, completely spent, curled against him, my head tucked into his shoulder. “This is perfect,” I said. “I just want to stay here forever.”
Bennett laughed softly and pressed a kiss to my temple. “You
ain’t seen nothing yet.”
As it turned out, the nothing I hadn’t seen yet was a breathtaking view of the ranch property that could only be had from the top of a ridge on the northern side. I’d saddled up Domino again, and Bennett had led me up a twisting trail, higher and higher, until we reached an outcropping that looked over the valley where the main buildings were located. We tied the horses to a tree, and Bennett took my hand, leading me nearly to the edge.
That morning I had put on the ring he had given me for the first time. This place, that feeling I had had the night before, him under me, trusting me to take the lead, to set the pace. No man had ever offered me that before. He had made me feel... safe. Which meant that wearing his ring finally felt right.
As he took my hand in his he must have felt the cool band of metal, and so he lifted my hand up to inspect it. “Almost as beautiful as you are.” I giggled at his corny line.
Then I turned to look out over the edge he had just led me to, and my breath caught.
The house, the lake, the cabins, they were laid out in front of me like a model railroad set, perfect and picturesque. I stared at them for a few moments, awestruck, before I looked back over to him with a teasing smile. “So, since we’re married, does that mean this is all mine, too?” But his eyes were focused on my ring, he seemed not to even hear me.
“Hey,” I said, pulling his attention back up to my face. “I love it,” I tried to say reassuringly, and I squeezed his hand for emphasis.
Bennett looked away without answering my previous question, or commenting about the ring, and before I could ask him what was wrong, a stiff wind blew across the ridge, making goosebumps rise on my skin.
“Are you cold?” he asked, shrugging off his jacket to lay it across my shoulders. Looking at him now, so attentive to my needs and comfort, I couldn’t help thinking my drunk self hadn’t made such a bad decision after all. I could do a lot worse for a husband.
“Not anymore,” I answered, shifting closer, leaning against him as his arms wrapped around me reflexively. “Are you?”
“How could I be with you to keep me warm?”
I smiled up at him, rising up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his.
Before long, the kiss deepened, and Bennett was pulling me closer. The wind had passed and the sun was high, but even if it hadn’t been, I don’t think either of us would have felt the cold as we eagerly pulled at each other’s clothes, grinning and laughing until we were laying across a blanket made up of our discarded outfits, arms wrapped around each other, lost in this moment; in this string of perfect moments.
His mouth was on mine, and he murmured endearments to me as he shifted his weight, pulling my legs up around his hips. I reached up to touch his cheek and whispered, “I’m so glad I married you….”
Chapter 18
Bennett
“I’m so glad I married you….”
Her words crashed over me like a bucket of ice water. Even if I’d been able to push past the tightness of my throat, I couldn’t have continued. The words made me recoil automatically. I didn’t even realize I’d pulled away from her until she spoke, her words soft and confused. “What’s wrong, Cowboy? Bennett?”
“Shitfingers,” I muttered, pulling myself up and reaching for my boxers at the same time as I tossed my coat to Ava.
“Bennett?” Ava asked again. I was struggling into my underwear, and she just held the coat at her side as she stood, still beautifully, temptingly naked in the fading sunlight.
“Put that on,” I said, stepping toward her to help her into it.
She stepped back, stumbling a little. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Please,” I said, turning away from her, needing to put distance between us. I couldn’t possibly say what I needed to say while she was naked and wet and… “Shitfingers.”
“Okay, okay,” Ava muttered, and I heard the rustling of cloth. “Now will you tell me what’s wrong so we can get back to our honeymoon?”
I turned around slowly to make sure she’d put it on. She was already going to hate me. No need to make it worse by embarrassing her. “I can do one of those two, but not both,” I said, feeling my mouth twist into a grimace.
“Bennett?” Her voice was suffused with concern now. She stepped toward me, but I held up a hand, stepping back. It wasn’t that I was worried she would hit me when I finally came clean, although that was a very real possibility.
“Trust me on this,” I said. “You’re not gonna want to be near me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Bennett,” Ava said, laughing softly and taking another step in my direction. She no longer seemed as sure of herself, though, and the confused look in her eyes was making me feel worse.
“Seriously, don’t,” I answered, my voice getting serious and my feet stepping back again.
She stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay,” she nodded, holding her hands up as well, as though we needed that wall between us. “Okay, I’ll stay here, just... tell me what’s wrong? Why won’t I want to be near you?” I could hear the concern in her voice veiled behind a hopeful note of skepticism. I had done that. It was my fault she trusted me. That she didn’t want to believe that anything I had to say now was going to be that bad.
When we started all of this, I definitely wasn’t trying to break through the wall that she had built because of her ex. Hell, I didn’t even know about it. But somehow, I’d done it, and now, even though she really shouldn’t, Ava trusted me so much that even while I was threatening that trust, she wasn’t ready to believe it. She wanted to believe in me. In us.
This girl was amazing, and now I had to break her heart.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, dropping my arms to my sides. My gaze fell somewhere around her perfect, tiny feet. I couldn’t look her in the eye. Not now. “Because I have something to tell you, and when I tell you, you’re going to hate me.”
“Bennett….” When I saw her feet move, I glanced up sharply. She took a startled step back. “Sorry,” she muttered, her demeanor finally changing. Her guard starting to come up. Her spine stiffened, and her fingers tapped against the canvas of my coat. “Just... tell me whatever it is you need to tell me.”
Her voice had changed as well, wary now, and I wondered if there were more to the story with her and her manager than just the pictures on the internet. I wondered just how badly this was going to hurt her.
“I….” I took another deep breath. This was even harder than I’d imagined it would be, and she looked so... fragile, standing there in the sunset, my coat too big on her petite frame. I knew I had to say something, though, even if it might break her. Letting her find out some other way would be much, much worse.
Swallowing hard, I started again. “I’m not your husband.”
I heard her intake of breath from several feet away, but her voice was barely audible when she whispered, “What?”
“I’m... I’m not your husband,” I said again. “We didn’t get married that night. We just met in a bar and got drunker together and had one incredible, mind-altering night of sex, and then... I made the rest of it up.”
Her mouth hung open, and her face seemed to be caught between anger and pain. “You... you made it up? The marriage? Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because I…,” I turned away from her, ashamed that I didn’t have a better reason than my own pride and stupidity. “I was angry you didn’t remember me, and I... I guess I just thought it would be funny.”
For a long moment, there was no response, then Ava’s voice came, cold and hard. “You thought it would be funny.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yeah, you know. Like a good prank. I say we’re married, make you believe it for a few hours. You slap me when I confess, and then we laugh about it. You get a ring for your troubles, I walk away with another good story.”
“For a few hours?” her voice rose in disbelief, and I turned back to look at her. “It’s been over
a week, Bennett.”
“I know,” I said, searching for anything at all that made that okay. “I was going to tell you in the lobby, but then Layla showed up, and then again on the plane, and then…. I don’t know. Every time I wanted to tell you, something seemed to convince me to put it off and then eventually… I guess I just became too afraid to say anything.”
“Too afraid to man up to your mistakes?”
“Too afraid to lose you.”
She was quiet for a long time. The sun dipped below the horizon, and we both just stood there, looking at each other.
Eventually she found the words she was looking for. “You’re despicable.”
“I know,” I agreed, miserable at how well she could see the truth and feeling guilty, for the first time in a long time, about how I’d made a person feel.
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