Page 49 of Snowed In with Benefits

20

JOSIE

My legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms are tight around me. I’m wet and slick against his shirt, grinding against his hard belly, soaking his clothes. I should be embarrassed, but I’m too far gone. His hands grip my ass hard as I kiss him. He groans into my mouth.

He pulls back. His breath is rough and ragged as he shakes his head. He’s already fully hard, I can feel him pressing against my ass.

“I knew you were trouble the second you lobbed that book at my head,” he says in his low growl.

I grind against him, breathing hard. “That was self-defense.”

He snorts. “Self-defense? Against what? I was carrying firewood.” He squeezes my ass, pulling me somehow closer.

“You were a massive stranger standing between me and the only exit.” I breathe against his neck, licking a bead of sweat from his skin.

“You didn’t even try the exit. You went straight for the weapon.”

I pull back and look into his eyes. “And I’d do it again.”

He almost grins at that. Almost. “Yeah, I bet you would.” His expression shifts. There’s hunger in his eyes, in the shape of his mouth, in the lines of his face. He wants me, and it’s making me want him so much more.

“You’ve been driving me crazy ever since then,” he says, his voice husky. “Every fucking day.”

His words trigger something and I’m kissing him again, harder, messier. I can feel Hunter’s eyes on us, hear him move away from the chair and lean against the wall. My ears are ringing, my body is on fire, and all I want is for Beau to touch me more, touch me in my deepest, most sensitive places.

He sets me on the chair. My legs are spread for him and he leans back, taking me in with his eyes. His gaze travels over me from my mouth to my pussy, the hunger in his eyes growing with every passing second.

He gestures. “Your pussy is already swollen and wet. Can you even take any more?”

I nod, my heart thundering. All I want is more. He grins, intense and filthy. He strokes my thigh with his big, thick fingers, making me gasp as he moves toward my pussy. He touches my clit, barely brushing over it, and I squirm. He slides one finger inside me and works my g-spot slowly before sliding out and teasing my labia. I’m so wet that he’s just sliding over me, moving my own cum around on my pussy, making me slick and ready for him.

I’m squirming. He pumps in and out of me slowly with one finger, then two, working his thumb over my clit in brief little bursts that are driving me crazy. I clench around him, writhing my hips, grinding against him, desperate for release. He doesn’t let me have it. Every time I get close, he pulls away.

I’m panting, writhing, gasping, grinding and he’s just watching me with those dark eyes. Hunter is watching from a few feet away, his gaze intense, his arms crossed. I see his cock twitch as I moan. I’m so close. So, so close, and Beau can feel it, and Beau pulls away.

“Please,” I beg pathetically.

He smirks darkly. “Please what?” He presses on my clit once and releases, just enough to get me closer, not enough to bring me over the edge.

“Oh, I hate you,” I mutter.

He looks down at his fingers, buried deep inside me. “Sure you do. You hate me so much that you’re dripping down my wrist. You hate me so much that you’re making my fingers cross inside you. You hate me so much that you’re riding my hand. Is this what hating someone feels like to you?”

He slides his fingers out and brings them to my mouth. I’m stunned for a moment, but I open my mouth and taste myself. I’ve never done that before. It’s so dirty that it turns me on so much more.

“Is this what hating someone tastes like to you?”

My breath is ragged as I suck my wetness off his fingers slowly, savoring the mix of flavors—my arousal and his skin. His eyes darken as he watches me.

His voice is rough. “After the bath, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I touched myself that night, and I came so fast it was fucking embarrassing.”

I gasp, a flash of arousal rushing through me. I had no idea he was so turned on by me. He was so distant, so cold after that day, I thought for sure he was annoyed about having to share a bath with me for my own good.

Every cold look. Every clipped sentence. Every time he left the room when I walked in, every time he grunted a one-word answer and turned his back. I thought he couldn’t stand me. I thought I was an inconvenience, a stray he’d been forced to shelter, something he tolerated because there was no other choice.

But it wasn’t that. It was never that. It was this. All of it was this, boiling under his skin, held back by nothing but his own stubborn will. He wanted me the whole time. He wanted me and he didn’t take. He didn’t hint, didn’t guilt, didn’t make me feel like I owed him something for wanting me. He just burned, quietly, alone, and touched himself in the dark and came fast and felt embarrassed about it. The thought of Beau, massive and gruff and terrifying Beau, lying on the couch with his hand around his cock, thinking about me in the bath, coming so hard and so fast that it embarrassed him, does something to my chest that I wasn’t prepared for. Not just arousal, although there’s plenty of that. Something softer. Something that aches. Because Preston wanted me too, in his way. But Preston’s want was a leash. It came with terms and conditions and a silent contract I didn’t remember signing. Beau’s want has been sitting in his chest for days and he never once made it my problem. He waited until I said yes. He’s still waiting, even now, even with his hands on my face and his cock hard against my thigh. He’s waiting for me to keep saying yes. And I want to keep saying it.

Beau flips me around. I’m kneeling on the chair, my arms braced on the back. I hear him strip out of his clothes, hear the distinct crinkle of a condom opening, listen to his ragged breath as he rolls it on.