Frayed
Page 89

 Kim Karr

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He presses his palms into the mattress, shifting his weight. I run my tongue in a frenzy up and down his chest, letting him know I’m hungry for him. His penis throbs between us until finally he slides inside me. He groans at our contact and my back arches to allow him in—all the way in. He slides deep, so deep. We’re both so aroused there’s no friction between us. I feel him everywhere—inside me, surrounding me, in my soul even. I lift my hips, curl my fingers around his shoulders, dig my nails into my flesh, all while his body rocks over me. I’m in sensation overload. He’s everywhere and I want even more of him.
“You’re so wet, so tight,” he whispers in my ear.
“You feel so good,” I moan.
Everything around us disappears; every part of my body feels licked by flames. He moves deliberately, painfully slow, but it feels torturously good. I don’t want this pleasure to ever end. His tongue thrusts into my mouth. I moan when he pulls out and slams back into me. He does it again and I cry out even louder. My hands graze his back, roam down, and push him deeper.
He stills. “The feel of your hands drives me wild.”
I become impatient and thrust my hips up. “You drive me wild.”
“Not yet,” he groans. “I want to stay buried deep inside you.”
“Please, Ben.” I’m begging him.
He looks at me and then he rocks harder, faster, thrusting in and out in an unrelenting momentum that makes me feel as if I’ve gone to heaven.
My back arches. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“You like that?”
I scream out, “Yes, Ben, yes. Take me to heaven,” over and over.
He buries his face in my neck and then I hear my name like a prayer. “S’belle,” he calls out, his body convulsing.
I squeeze my eyes closed, seeing stars everywhere as I come harder than I ever have. My body shakes, pleasure radiates throughout it, and I feel him spasming over and over inside me.
“Open your eyes,” he tells me.
He thrusts one last time and I watch as pleasure covers his face in a way I’ve never seen on a man. He falls on top of me, breathless, panting, and completely spent. He murmurs my name against my neck. After a few minutes he rolls to my side and pulls my body tight to his. He cups my chin to look up at him. “That was . . .” He stops and bolts up. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
I sit up, confused.
“I didn’t wrap up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t wear a condom.”
Laughter bursts from my mouth. “I’m on the pill. It’s fine.”
He darts his eyes to mine. “I hope you don’t say that to all the guys you’ve fuc . . . been with.”
I push his shoulder. “I haven’t actually slept with that many guys and, yes, they’ve always . . . wrapped up.” I laugh even harder.
“Don’t laugh at my choice of words. Why don’t you tell me how good that felt for you?”
I want to be embarrassed but I’m not, so I decide to answer honestly. “Sex with you is like heaven. Plain and simple.”
He grins devilishly and then grabs hold of me and pins me to the bed. “You seem perfectly fine.”
My laughter fades as the heat surges between us again. “I told you I am.”
He dips his head. “Good,” he growls in my ear, “because this time when I take you to heaven, I’m not taking it slow.”
CHAPTER 29
Shape of Love
Ben
The creamy white sheet that perfectly matches her skin tone covers our bodies from head to toe as I caress my hand down her back, dusting light kisses all over her face. She giggles and my heart skips every time. I really f**king love that sound.
“That tickles.” She laughs from inside our cocoon.
I bury my face in her neck and suck on the spot behind her ear I’ve already discovered doesn’t tickle her but encourages her to make those sounds that drive me insane.
Her breathing picks up the minute my lips apply pressure. She might not be ticklish in that spot, but it definitely turns her on.
“Does that tickle?” I murmur in her ear, knowing already it doesn’t. Knowing the more I suck the wetter she’ll get.
“No.” But her voice sounds breathy.
We stay up most of the night exploring each other’s bodies. We fall asleep much later than the six hours she was prescribed to wait and wake up before the sunrise. Aside from water breaks, bathroom runs, and one small food run, we haven’t moved from her bed.
I nip at her earlobe, then roll over onto my back, pulling the sheet from our heads. I blink the brightness of the daylight away. “What time is it?”
She burrows out of the sheet and crawls up to lie beside me on the pillow. “When I called my mom it was ten.”
“That had to be hours ago.” I reach for my phone, but then I look over toward her. With her freckles bright, her smile wide, and her hair a beautiful mess of tangles, I unclench my hand and leave my phone where it is. “You know what, it doesn’t really matter what time it is.”
She takes a grape from the bowl beside her bed and pops it in my mouth before taking another one for herself. Once she’s done chewing she flops back down. “We should probably get something to eat soon.”
I raise myself up on my elbow and look down at her. “Let’s order in. I don’t want you to leave this bed.”