Page 101 of Unbound

Bennett disconnects from my mouth, kissing over my throat and down to my chest. His lips press over the hardened peak of one nipple before switching to the other as his fingers circle over the damp skin.

“Show me how you like it,” he says as he releases the nipple he’s been tormenting with slow smooth strokes. “I want to make you feel good. I need you to show me.”

“They’re kind of sensitive. Just some pressure—not too much.” I swirl my fingers closed around and around, shivering from the shots of pleasure driving down my body.

“Okay.” He presses a quick kiss to my mouth and ducks his head down, knocking my fingers away.

It’s perfect immediately, enough that my hips arch up involuntarily.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.” I buckle beneath him.

“Do you want more?”

“I want you to . . . to fuck me.”

The language feels strange, like it’s somehow wrong and right at the same time. Insecurity has me shrinking slightly under him, while trying to desperately grasp him to me in some feeble attempt at self-soothing.

“Not yet,” he says into my neck, letting me pull him to cover my body. I kiss my fear and anxiety into the skin of his neck, lips almost vibrating with my worry. “I want to do everything with you. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this, and I want to take my time with you.”

He pulls away again and my chest lurches, but I let him go. He smiles, hovering so big above me, and smooths his thumb over my cheekbone in soft, soothing strokes.

“Let me take care of you. Okay?”

I nod before biting my lip and reaching for him.

He laughs, the sound pumping through my veins like a drug, and settles back over me only lower.

Brown curls tickle my stomach as he stops and hovers just above my belly button.

His mouth is hot against my skin, my cheeks flushing because no one’s ever done this before. He kisses and nibbles and licks at the most sensitive part of me. Bennett Reiner might be a virgin, but he’s made an art of getting to know my body, taking his time learning where his touch unravels me the most. I come fast and hard, overly sensitive, back bowing off the bed. He reaches a hand to my low stomach to push me down. To steady me.

Always keeping me steady.

It’s only after, when I sink back into the sheets to watch him carefully put on a condom, that his body raises to meet mine, settling between my thighs.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. I nod, eyes on his—always.

“Hold on to me,” he says. The repetition of the words from earlier winds through me, relaxing my muscles and my mind in equal measure. He pushes into me in one strong thrust.

My back arches at the sheer size of him. I can feel him everywhere, as if he’s inside every part of my body permanently. Deeply.

A cry bursts from my lips, hands grasping his meaty shoulders, nails digging in, and he stops fully. His brow dips, sweat and water from his damp curls dripping down smooth cheekbones, slipping over his swollen lips.

He watches me carefully. “Is it . . . too much?”

I laugh, my entire body relaxing around him so he can slide in farther. Only Bennett would casually ask that, unaware of the sexual undertone of the question—he means it genuinely.

“I just need a moment,” I say, and he nods before dipping closer to me, using a hand beneath my neck to pull my body up toward him like an offering, pressing soft kisses along the tender skin of my throat.

His ministrations work like magic touches, relaxing my body to the intrusion of him. I’m not a virgin, but it’s been over a year since I last had sex. And I’ve had no self-love intimacy, too scared to try anything. So, beyond Bennett’s hands and mouth—and now the massive cock between his legs—nothing has touched me there in a long time.

And somehow where I thought I’d feel terror-struck and overwhelmed, I don’t. I feel safer with him here, in his embrace, with him inside me, than I’ve ever felt.

“Okay. I’m ready. Please.”

He moves and it’s like electric shocks across my body. He’s everywhere, no part of my body untouched by him—his fingers, his soul, his words.