He’d asked her something—to move her legs. Right. She felt herself tightening, the pressure growing. She could give in to his request. To some extent. She cleared her throat. “If you hang onto the headboard with one hand, you may do anything you want with my legs.”
His answer was a growl of appreciation. He yanked her left leg up to his waist and grabbed the headboard with his right hand. After moving his knees apart for better balance, he put his left arm under her right knee, lifting and spreading her, surging even deeper.
Her fingernails dug into his skin at the glorious sensation.
As he slid his cock out slowly, his jaw went tight. “I can still feel every wrap on my dick,” he muttered, making her laugh.
His tanned face darkened with lust as he deliberately penetrated her, pulled back, thrust in faster. And ground his pelvis against the butterfly over her clit.
The last straw.
Oh God. The coiling pressure in her core clenched like a fist, encountered his heavy shaft, and exploded, battering across her senses with thunderous waves of pleasure.
Her hips bucked and even in the middle of her orgasm, she heard his, “Fucking hell.” And then her leg was lifted higher, and he started hammering into her. Deep. Hard. Powerful. The entire bed rocked as he kept his grip on the headboard, as his huge body rammed into her.
With an ear-ringing rush, she went over again, the pleasure consuming her. God, she’d never felt anything like it.
As her vision cleared slightly, she nuzzled his neck, kissing the white scars, and then ran her fingernails down his chest to find—and pinch—his nipples.
He roared…and slammed into her, rocking the bed with each thrust.
Something cracked—and the bed tilted diagonally.
Growling, Ben pressed deep, deep into her, and his cock pulsed with his climax, sending more sizzling pleasure through her.
She managed to fumble the remote to OFF and simply went limp.
Eventually, when her heart rate slowed to a less painful gait, she opened her eyes. Head bowed, Ben was immobile, his wide chest expanding and contracting with his breathing. His face was flushed, the cords on his neck still taut.
Magnificent.
She rubbed her hands over his back, appreciating the solid feel of his muscles.
Holding the headboard with one hand—good submissive—he carefully let her leg down.
Still buried deep, his cock was giving small twitches. She grinned inwardly. His tool would remember her tomorrow.
“Ma’am?” His voice sounded as if he’d swallowed half of her sandy beach. “Are you…”
So sweet. She ran her hand over his strong face. “I’m fine, Benjamin.” She paused. “But you broke my bed.”
He didn’t even look embarrassed. Instead, his eyes glinted as he smiled slowly. “Guess we’ll have to move to the floor for the next round.”
* * * *
A couple of hours later, Anne came out of the shower to the sound of someone pounding on her back door.
While she’d finished washing her hair, Ben had taken Bronx for a walk. Now the dog lay in the corner…and Ben was repairing the damage to her bed. “Bed’s almost fixed.”
He nodded toward the door. “Problems?” His long hair was disheveled, his five-o’clock shadow visible. He looked like a tousled, annoyed male, and she wanted to push him onto the pile of bed linens and muss him up some more.
“Probably not,” she said. “But, unfortunately, since my car’s here, my family knows I’m home. Whoever it is won’t stop until I answer the door.”
“I got firearms in my ride.”
She grinned. “So do I, but shooting relatives is considered bad manners.”
“True.” He rose and ran his fingers over her face. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are, no matter what you wear, what time of day.”
Everything within her melted into a puddle. She gave him an exasperated look to cover that up, opened the window, and shouted, “I’ll be down in a couple of minutes. Bestow yourself with patience.”
She closed the window on Travis’s X-rated answer. “Men,” she said in a low voice and picked out clean underwear.
“Anne.” Ben had squatted back beside the bed.
She braced, expecting a complaint about how she was neglecting him. Joey had been a good enough slave to be silent, but he’d certainly have pouted.
“I’ll be done with this in a minute. Want me to stay up here or let myself out quietly?” he asked.
The tactfulness of the question staggered her. And reminded her not to judge this man by anyone else.
And…she realized she didn’t want him sneaking away. “No, come on down and I’ll fix you supper. My brother knows I have a personal life. He might tease me, but not you.”