Kendall Ryan - Craving Him

I pushed my thighs together. “Stop looking at it. It’s awkward.”

Ben pressed my knees apart. “Look at yourself, baby. You’re beautiful.” His fingertip lightly stroked my inner thigh and little chill bumps erupted along my skin. “Has no one ever told you how pretty your pussy is?”

My cheeks erupted in heat. I shook my head. Sex in the dark, under the covers, was my norm before he came along.

“It’s like a little pink flower . . . look.” I dared a glance downward. His thumbs parted my inner lips, the gentle touch both highly erotic and innocent. A throaty breath escaped me and Ben’s gaze found mine. “See, you’re perfect down there.”

“If you say so,” I murmured.

“Don’t you like looking at me?”

I nodded eagerly.

A slow smile crept over his mouth. “Good to know. Well, that’s how I feel about looking at you. You turn me on so much, baby.”

Glancing down, it was impossible not to notice the rather large bulge at his hips where the sheet tented outward.

It didn’t seem to be possible for us to go more than a few hours without sex. I kept waiting for that part of our relationship to cool, but that hadn’t happened yet. He was sexy as hell and my body craved him. I wasn’t about to deny it.

Emmy

I woke to Ben trailing soft sucking kisses against the back of my neck. I was still fitted against him, just how we’d curled up the night before, cradled in his arms. Except now the evidence of his arousal was pressing against me. It was hard to miss a nine-inch cock nestled against the seam of my ass. I pressed back against him, eliciting a low moan. “Baby, you can’t do that.” His tone was a warning, his voice deep and sleepy. Ben laid several more damp kisses along the side of my throat as I turned my head, my mouth seeking his. I squirmed against him, rocking my hips and dragging my backside over his cock. “Fuck,” he murmured. “Misbehaving early this morning, Miss Clarke.”

“I think you secretly like it,” I taunted, rolling toward his scent and his gravelly voice. He was so incredibly sexy that I couldn’t resist the temptation of his body primed and ready so close to mine.

We lay side by side and one of his large palms cupped my cheek while his other hand moved between us, feeling me as though testing how wet I was.

“Shit, baby. You’re soaked.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. I dipped my head, but eyes leaving his, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my body’s overly obvious reactions to him.

“Hey. I love that. It’s a big fucking turn-on.” He pressed one long finger into me and I let out a needy whimper.

“Do you need to come?”

“Bennn . . .” I rocked my hips closer.

“Shh. I’ll make it better.” Ben lifted me from the bed, momentarily stopping his delicious torture to remove the T-shirt I wore.

His fingertips traced the curves of my breasts, while his other palm lightly cupped my other breast. His touches were so soft, so careful, I could tell he was holding back. He was trying not to rush me, take me hard like he did up against the shower wall last night. His hands trembled ever so slightly and I could feel how badly he wanted me. It was intoxicating. His thumbs brushed against my nipples and they tightened against his touch.

Pressing damp kisses to my throat, his tongue darted out to press against the spot in my neck where my pulse was thrumming wildly. He worked his way lower, licking and nibbling on my nipples. His fingers lightly curled around my ribs, holding me close.

His tongue lightly traced around my nipple, sending sharp darts of pleasure to my core. His teeth grazed my hardened nub and I felt the sensation deep inside my body as my sex clenched. My heartbeat pumped violently in my chest.

Situating me across his lap so I was straddling him, he pushed his boxer briefs down low on his hips and stroked himself twice. “You ready for me, babe?”

Locking my gaze on his, I drew a shuddering breath. I had him at my disposal day and night, and it still wasn’t enough. The more I got of him, the more I craved of him. The deeper I began to understand him, the more I wanted to know. The closer we got physically, the more of myself I wanted to give to him.

Positioning himself against me, Ben pushed inside me, his big cock stretching me and stealing my breath from this angle. Sensations burst inside me and my head dropped back, exposing my neck to his kisses.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he growled against my skin. I could do little more than hang on to his shoulders while Ben pumped into me. “Hold on tight.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him. Ben’s hands moved under my ass and pushed me up and down harder on him. The pleasure built inside me with each stroke, and after a few more blissful moments I came, clawing his back and digging my heels into the bed as I moved against him.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips and he clung to me, burying himself fully within me as he came.

We collapsed together back to the bed, each of our hearts pounding and both of us breathing audibly in the otherwise silent room. I didn’t know how it was possible but every time with him seemed to get better and better.

After he’d cleaned us up and dressed me once again in my T-shirt, I tugged him back to the bed to lay with me again. I wasn’t quite ready to get up for the day yet. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck.

“I like this spot,” he mumbled against my skin.

He could stay there forever for all I cared.

Turning to face me, Ben tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear. His expression was watchful, almost concerned, like he had something on his mind.

Ben

She was gorgeous like this. Unaware of her own beauty, her skin glowing and pink from her orgasm. I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and she let out a soft, contented sigh. “I want to take you somewhere, be alone with you for a few days.”

“Okay.” Her eyes danced on mine.

“Great, because I’ve chartered a plane to fly us to a neighboring island. We’ll spend the rest of our trip at an exclusive resort on a private island. Just us.”

Her mouth blossomed into a wide grin, and I could read her expression as plain as day. No Fiona. No photographer. No ex-girlfriends to distract us. We’d be utterly alone. “What about work?” she asked. “Will there be an Internet connection so I can at least check on upcoming jobs for you?”

“No need to work. I’ve already let Fiona know I was taking you away. With the holidays coming up, this also tends to be my slow time of year anyway. It’ll just be another week. Ten days tops.” I grinned.

“I’d love to stay. I’ll just have to let Ellie know I won’t be home.”

I pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Good. Let’s have brunch; I’ll have the hotel staff pack our bags. Our flight leaves in an hour.”

“Wow. Honestly, I can pack my own bag.”

“You’re awfully bossy for an assistant. Come on. I’m hungry. And I’m craving those mango pancakes they have downstairs.”

She chuckled and flung the blankets from her legs. “Fine. Let’s feed you.”

That was my girl. The food pusher I knew and loved. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to take care of me or feed me, and I loved that about her.

Emmy

After breakfast we spotted Fiona on our way to the car. The bellhop following us with bags in tow caught her attention. “Headed out?” she asked, stopping in front of Ben.

“Yes, I emailed you,” he said. “I’m taking Emmy away for a private getaway before we head home.”

I braced myself, watching her reaction.

A fake smile tugged at her mouth. “Okay, love. Go enjoy yourself now before the baby comes. You deserve it. Things are about to get busy.” She laughed and hugged Ben, pressing her baby bump into his abs.

Ben said nothing to disagree; he just nodded and brought one hand around her back and gave it a careful pat.

I wanted him to claw her eyes out, not comfort her.

An acidic taste filled my mouth at the thought of him leaning over Fiona’s hospital bed to coo over her gorgeous little baby, inspecting it for signs that it looked like him.

He’s promised me he didn’t want her—that we’d still be together no matter what happened with the baby. But I wondered if that’d change once he saw her mothering his child. And if he had no interest in her romantically, could I handle him playing the doting dad to her baby. God, I sounded selfish. I was jealous of a baby. How pathetic was I?

I dragged my sorry ass behind Ben to the waiting car.

* * *

After the brief plane ride on what I learned was an island jumper, we were shuttled by a sedan to a private thatched hut, not a hotel. I spun around to face Ben.

“Are you serious?” I grinned.

“I only want the best for my baby.”

I leapt into his arms, tackle-hugging him.

This place was paradise. Secluded and romantic. I doubted I’d ever want to leave.

The bellhop left us and our suitcases alone in the hut with just the gentle sound of lapping waves to accompany us. There was a large bed in the center of the room dressed in white fluffy bedding, two bedside tables, and a sofa across the room. Very simple, yet beautiful and elegant. I wandered toward the door leading out from the far end of the space with Ben trailing at my heels.

The bathroom vanity and a small room for the toilet were inside, but the shower itself was outside. Gray slate stones stacked more than chest high provided some privacy from the beach beyond, and a waterfall-style showerhead hung from the center of the ceiling.

It was absolute heaven. With the gentle lull of turquoise waters lapping the shore and a steady ocean breeze to keep the hut comfortable, it was everything I imagined a South Pacific paradise would be.

During the trip, it was as though we were both trying extra hard to be the perfect couple, to not let Fiona’s warning haunt us or mark our time together. For ten days, we lounged in hammocks on the beach and sunned ourselves until we were a deep golden brown, despite our best efforts at slathering on sunblock. We swam, ate entirely too much, and sipped cocktails in the late-afternoon sun. There was no phone, no TV, no Internet. Just us. As much as I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t help but feel like a clock was ticking, marking down our time together. I wondered if Ben felt the same way. He was extra sweet and attentive.

My monthly cycle made an appearance, so I spent the entire week bloated and fighting off chocolate cravings. Ben was amazing, though, massaging my lower back, ordering dessert even when I insisted I didn’t need it, letting me sleep in, and generally being the world’s most responsive boyfriend.

Most mornings after waking late and eating a light breakfast in our room, we walked straight out of the front door and onto the sand to wade into the warm seawater for a morning swim. But this morning, Ben turned toward me, smoothing the hair back from my face and watching me as though mesmerized.

He looked at me like something big was on his mind, but for the time being he remained silent, just stroking my cheek, running his fingers through my hair and watching me.

“Did you sleep okay?” I asked, finally.

Ben

Emmy watched me curiously as I ran my fingers through her long, silky hair. “Did you sleep okay?” she asked finally.

“Fine.” I nodded. The truth was I hadn’t slept for shit last night. I laid awake thinking about the very real possibility that Fiona’s baby was mine. Could I really turn my back on her and the child? Growing up without a father figure, I’d vowed that I’d never be a deadbeat dad. And the more time I spent with Emmy, the more I began to worry about how close we were growing. Thoughts of Fiona and the baby weighed heavily on my mind. Somehow seeing her rounded belly this week made it all the more real. There was no denying she was getting bigger all the time. There really was a baby growing in there.

“Is something wrong?” Emmy asked, her forehead creasing as she watched me.

I didn’t answer for several long moments and Emmy pressed her palm to my cheek. “Everything’s fine,” I managed. “It’s probably time we got back to reality.”

“I suppose we should.” She rolled closer and stretched. “This has been perfect.” She rubbed her hands over my bare chest, absently, like her body dictated that we be touching anytime we could. “It’ll be almost Thanksgiving by the time we get home.”