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“Sorry it’s late.”
“Oh it-it’s fine I,” Ben gave a weak shrug, weaker smile. “I’m up. Obviously. My aunt left some paperwork on the company-stuff she thought I’d like to know...the company’s got a lot of interests...”
Syson only nodded, when she trailed off. His eyes were hooded and unreadable as they took her in. A fist clenched when memories of her in Sean Bolton’s grip clouded his brain.
“Did you want to come in?” she asked.
He did so slowly and shut the door at his back. “Rhys up?”
“No, she went to bed after Avery and Jace dropped us off,” Ben swept both hands through her hair and headed to the living room. “Get you something to drink?” she offered.
“Thank you. No.”
The firm refusal stopped her mid-stride and she turned. “Everything okay?”
“Did my uncle upset you?”
She blinked, gave him a strange smile. “No he-no Syson.”
“Sean Bolton?”
“No,” her smile became less strange, more appreciative. “They both have an underlying sleaziness about them, but I could handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“Syson, it was alright. Avery and Jace were there-”
“They don’t care if they upset Avery and Jace.”
“What is it between the three of you?” Ben asked.
Syson moved further into the living room, not stopping until he was resting on the balcony door frame. “You asked why I don’t work for my family’s company. My uncle and I don’t agree on the way it should be run.”
“I know that.”
Smiling then, Syson pushed off the door and looked her way. “Trust me, that’s less than a fraction of it.”
“Let’s hear it, then,” Ben slapped her hands to her sides, causing the silky culottes to ripple gracefully against the contact. “I’m obviously not going to bed any time soon.”
“That’s a shame.” His haunting grays trailed her body as though they could see beneath the fabric of her outfit. “I came here tonight hoping you would be.”
She had no response. Her gaze sharpened as if she were trying to puzzle out whether his words meant what she thought they did. Syson gave no assistance in helping her solve his riddle. He only stood there, exuding maddening patience while her insides gradually turned to mush.
“Tell me to go.”
Ben shook her head until the gesture was mere reflex. She did so, until Syson crossed the room and was sweeping her high against him. There were no uncertainties, no sweetness to the kiss they shared. It was all raw need, unleashed desire. His hands were unyielding on her arms. Despite their capacity to bruise, to crush, they felt utterly gentle where they held and caressed. Ben didn’t care where he took her as long as his mouth was on hers.
Ben’s fingers quaked where they curved into the neckline of the crew shirt he wore. She gasped, permitting his tongue deeper exploration when her back made contact with the wall he backed her against. Her legs were already wrapped around his waist, crossed at the ankles. She preferred them uncrossed, her legs open to accommodate his broad frame. His tongue continued to thrust madly while his wide palms cradled her upper thighs to keep them spread.
Ben’s breath came on broken shudders when he ended the kiss. Deftly, his teeth scraped the elegant line of her neck until he satisfied himself with sucking her earlobe. He moved on until his tongue was thrusting inside her strapless bodice and exploring the silken cleft between her breasts. Her shuddered breathing forced more cleavage from the bodice until a pert breast was released from its confines.
Still cupping her thighs, Syson set her higher against the wall, until the molasses dark mound was perfectly aligned with his mouth. Sweetly, intensely he pulled on the nipple that was firm and pouting for his attention. His groan was satisfaction and hunger combined. The soft melon fragrance that wafted whenever she moved, enfolded him, engulfed him. It had been too long since he’d known a woman’s touch. Even still, no woman’s touch had ever done to him what hers was doing in that moment.
“Where?” the query was gruff, muffled with his mouth still full of her.
“Through there,” Ben weakly waved a hand toward her bedroom suite. She felt the bed meeting her back less than a minute later. Cool air met her skin seconds after that- he’d removed her suit with an expert’s efficiency.
She was left in lavender lace panties and matching bra that only partly covered her bosom. Her eyes went to Syson’s face and intrigued by his expression. The approval she found there was flattering, but it was the awe that intrigued.
“Have I surprised you, Mr. Faust?” She smiled when he grinned.
“In the nicest way possible, Ms. Lake.”
Ben bit her lip to silence the shriek that would have surely awakened Rhys, when Syson captured her ankle and dragged her to the bed’s edge. He was there to meet her, his mouth taking possession of her sex through the barrier of her panties. She arched instantly only to have her hips secured to the bed beneath a steely forearm.
“Sy-”
“Shh...”
His breath was chilly against the dampened panties. Ben didn’t know if she had Syson to blame for the moisture or herself. She didn’t care to ponder it then. She couldn't, her brain was only able to process pleasure. Again, Syson had her thighs secure in his grasp and kept her open to him. His tongue drove raggedly into the middle of her panties. His hold on her made it impossible to do little more than attempt faint bucking motions while she absorbed the sensations he stirred at her core.
Ben’s mouth curved into a languid smile, her fingers getting lost in his hair as pure decadence took hold. He’d lost none of his clothes while she was nearly naked and coming apart beneath his touch. His perfect teeth gnawed gently, intermittently as his tongue drove her with more insatiable thrusts. She wanted more and tried to free herself of the lacy confinements. Syson merely imprisoned both her wrists and continued his feast.
“Sy...I-I can’t stand this...”
“I know,” his voice; thicker in the wake of raging need, gave it a distorted quality. “I need you wet for me, Ben.”
“Done,” she moaned.
He chuckled and then gave her a playfully punishing bite through her panties. “I need you very wet.”
“Mmm...’kay...” she obliged, not bothering to ask him why. It didn’t matter. She was about to give him what he asked for.
A quiet, vicious curse slipped past Syson’s lips when he felt the rush of moisture flood her crotch. He was aching to drink her in, but more than that, he ached to be inside her. Exhibiting more of his expert touch, he relieved her of the bra and pulled the drenched panties from her hips.
Ben didn’t seem to notice, still in the throes of a powerful orgasm. She lay twisting and arching on the bed while sensation had its way with her slim, dark body. Meanwhile, Syson stripped, put a condom in place and enjoyed the lusty image she portrayed because of him.
Ben was coming down from her magnificent high when her amber gaze settled to Syson still standing at the foot of the bed. He was finally as naked as she was and Ben understood why he needed her very wet for him. He gave her no time to wonder if she could take the length and width of his well-built cock or to become unnerved by the array of tattoos and scars adorning his body. He was there, his flesh meeting hers, his hands on her body opening her to receiving him.
Ben winced at the missed pressure of being intimately filled, though she’d never been filled to the extent that Syson Faust was capable of. She winced when pressure skirted around pain, but would’ve killed anyone who tried to deny her the experience. The repeated advance and retreat as he claimed her, had that pain melding with pleasure. Ben felt as though she were liquifying into a pool of sensation.
Syson braced his considerable weight on his forearms, allowing him to study Ben’s features as he stroked, spread and branded her sex with his. He didn’t mind that she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Her lashes only seemed capable of fluttering, her teeth bit into lush lips that only seemed capable of smiling.
Lust snared him like a fist. Missed sensations threatened to swamp him in a well he never wished to leave. Her nails raking his back stirred another wave of unquenchable desire. Taking more of her was the only way to slake the thirst. When she tugged on his sides, he resisted, knowing she wanted him to cover her fully. He’d crush her. To apologize for the refusal, he hid his face in her neck.
The move was his undoing. The hypnotic fragrance that clung to her skin filled his nostrils and raised the intensity of his need for her into the stratosphere. The slow, beautifully synced thrusts he used to plunder her core, became faster with an undercurrent that bordered on animalistic. It was basic, carnal and fueled by instincts as old as time.
Ben cried out her enjoyment into the nearest pillow, baring her neck for his attention. His stare was almost worshipping in the deliberate manner it roamed her skin. Her breasts beckoned attention which he wholeheartedly gave. He could feel her coming against the thin sheet of the condom and shuddered over a pouting nipple and continued feasting on the firm, wet tip.
He wasn’t ready to come-had always been grateful for the blessing of stamina. Still, it had been six years since sex had visited-the intimate moments between his dick and his hand notwithstanding. Besides all that, this was Benaja Lake and for the night, she was his.
The pillow she bit into was doing a poor job of masking her cries. She was being shredded by another orgasm and who knew she was even capable of that? The long hard muscle stroking her into passionate oblivion was skilled and capable of wiping her mind free of everything-including the fact that she and Syson weren’t alone in the suite. It didn’t matter. She could feel him coming inside the condom. The potent throb of his shaft reawakened delicious sensations and her need to be vocal about it.
His tongue was stroking her mouth before those cries could take flight, smothering them even as an abundance of moans took hold. Their bodies continued to writhe in an ageless dance that lasted the night.