Fated Bliss (Bliss #2) (9 page)

The sudden crash that came with that thought was staggering. Never touching him like this, never feeling the intensity between us was heart wrenching.

I had to fight those feelings, and instead, I said, “Now. Please, God. Inside now.”

Ben’s fingers disappeared, wrenching another mewl from my throat. A crinkling of foil sounded from somewhere close, but I was too busy feasting on his jaw and neck, touching his hard, rippling muscles to care. All that mattered was that this was finally happening.

“Eyes,” Ben ordered and stopped all movements.

“What?” I breathed, my eyes darting upward.

“There they are,” he murmured reverently, his gaze traveling over me, missing nothing. “I needed to see you, see those pretty gold eyes. Keep them on me.”

I was too dazed to understand his meaning. It became clear as soon as he tugged my panties aside again and positioned himself at my entrance.

This was happening.

Really
happening.

I bit my lip as he slipped inside a fraction of an inch, inhaling deeply at the slight burn. It had been a while, but even if it hadn't, nothing could have prepared me for Ben's size. Still, I was primed and ready to take him on. I rolled my hips, gaining a little bit more of him.

"Easy, beautiful girl," Ben warned, studying me carefully. His eyes glittered with lust and passion. "I don't want to hurt you."

“It’s going to hurt if you don’t hurry, handsome. I ache for you,” I whined, about to lose my mind.

Ben bared his teeth and fed me the rest of him, releasing a long breath. “Jesus, you’re tight.”

“No, you’re just huge,” I joked, but then whimpered as he retracted a bit and rocked back inside. “Oh, God, that’s good.”

Ben hoisted me up farther so he could slide in deeper, never breaking my gaze. The fact that he watched me so intently, so carefully, was heady. I could tell that Ben didn't want to miss a moment, wanted to etch every second into his mind. If this was all we had, I was going to make sure this was a night he wouldn't forget for the rest of his life.

I tightened my hold around his waist, flexing my hips and digging my heels into his ass. "Hard, Ben. Fuck me hard," I ordered and palmed my breast. I toyed with my nipples and noticed his eyes flare.

He liked that.

I did it again, rolling my nipples between my fingers.

Ben pulled back and surged into me, grunting loudly.

Holy hell, this man could move.

His hips pistoned into mine, rotating slightly so that his pelvis brushed against my clit with each stroke. He leaned in, keeping only a small space between our lips as he fucked me against the wall. Our eyes held as we breathed each other in, giving ourselves over to the pleasure spiraling out of control. Again, there was something in his gaze that made me question his thoughts because it seemed as if this meant more to him than he wanted me to know.

That couldn’t be right.

Could it?

I had to force myself from reading into his every action, his every word. This was what he said it was, and I wasn't going to make the mistake of making it grander.

“Stay with me,” Ben ordered, noticing my withdrawal. He petted my clit again, demanding my attention. “Feel me, Samantha.”

"Oh, I'm with you, handsome," I cooed playfully and clenched my inner muscles around him, hoping to distract him. I scraped my nails down his chest, sinking them into his pecs brutally. Like me, he'd walk away with battle wounds, only his would be on the outside. "I can do nothing but feel, Ben. And you feel
so good
.”

“Shit, Samantha,” Ben snarled, his eyes darkening further. He swung me around and marched to the bed. “You’re in for it now.”

“Promises, promises,” I goaded him.

He smirked at me. “I’ll show you promises.”

Ben pulled out and threw me down on the bed, causing me to bounce. I giggled, sweeping the hair out of my face. My giggles were cut short when two hands snagged my ankles and jerked them, forcing me onto my belly. A loud, playful slap landed on my ass, reverberating through the room. Gently, he slipped my shoes off my feet, placing a kiss on each ankle, and then glided my panties down my legs.

"Up on your knees, sweetheart," Ben barked, his words laced with dominance.

I shuddered.

Hard.

Holy shit, that was hot.

Wiggling my ass to entice him further, I slowly got onto all fours. I shot him a daring look over my shoulder, saying, “Like this?”

I wasn't prepared for the picture Ben made. Watching him discard his pants and boxers, then stand there in all his glory, he was by far the most remarkable man I'd ever seen, with thick and brawny shoulders, a narrow waist, defined, corded muscles, and a long, hard cock.

Yep, this man would be my downfall.

I spread my legs wide, rewarding Ben with a perfect view of my core, needing him to be just as affected as me. Ben honed in on my pussy as he placed a knee on the bed, climbing behind me. His palms covered my ass, kneading my cheeks.

"You have a gorgeous body, Samantha, but I have to say…you've got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he praised me, his voice guttural.

Okay, now I knew the meaning of being so wet you were dripping. I only thought that was possible in books, but boy, was I wrong.

“Ben,” I begged, “come back inside.”

“One sec, baby girl. I think you need to be taught a lesson. You like to taunt me too much.”

Say what?

“Excuse me?” I questioned, unsure of his intentions.

He didn’t answer me with words, but instead, he slapped my ass five times in rapid succession. It wasn’t too hard that it was painful per say, but it stung.

“Jesus, Ben,” I hissed, trying to get away, but Ben’s grip kept me immobile. “What are you doin’?”

“Like I said, teaching you a lesson,” he murmured, rubbing the sting from my cheeks with gentle fingers.

Okay…that felt heavenly.

“Mmmm,” I groaned, surprising myself. I never thought I’d be one to like being spanked.

It was Ben’s turn to taunt me. “See…you like that.” He rocked his hips behind me, painstakingly brushing his cock against my clit.

“Ben…”

“One sec,” he murmured, then slapped my ass a few more times, this time harder.

“Ben!” I squealed as he massaged my aching flesh.

“Are you going to taunt me again?”

“Just fuck me, damn it!”

His chuckle was deviant and filled with desire. “Oh, I plan to, Samantha. I’m just doing it on my terms.”

“Please.”

“I like hearing you beg,” he whispered, then rammed home.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, pressing my forehead against the comforter.

His large hands circled my waist, pulling me backward with every thrust. I felt him in places I didn't realize existed inside me.

Ben's pace was excruciating, overloading my senses. The force behind his hips was enough to jar me forward every time. My mouth gaped open in a silent scream. I was unable to breathe, think.

Only feel.

Like he wanted.

He played my body expertly, to his every whim.

“Now she’s silent,” Ben growled, cupping between my legs. “But I want to hear you scream when you come, Samantha.”

Where was the sweet man from earlier? The guy fucking me was way different.

But I was far from complaining.

He was rocking my world, making me question everything I’d ever thought about sex. I’d never experienced anything of this magnitude.

I fisted the comforter and drove myself backward, impaling myself on him. Ben manipulated my clit, switching between pinching and circling.

“Come for me, baby girl. Let me hear you,” Ben whispered, covering my back with his chest, his lips at my ear. His voice was spellbinding, and I could only follow his every command.

“Ben!” I screamed and shattered around him.

“There she is,” he purred, sounding pleased.

I didn’t care, though.

I was too far gone.

I convulsed, my body shuddering with every brutal current of my orgasm. It went on and on
and on
. Ben stilled, letting me ride it out until I fell against the mattress, my strength gone.

Ben slipped an arm under my stomach, hiking my ass up more, and maneuvered me until his thighs straddled mine. He clutched my shoulder and yanked me backward, pumping into me again.

Even though I was drained, I wasn’t unaffected. The new position caused the head of his cock to drag against my walls decadently.

“Ahhh,” I mewled.

“Like that, sweetheart?”

“Jesus, Ben,” I cried, my words broken. “Too much.”

“No, it’s not. You’re fine,” he assured me, circling his hips, and fingered my clit once more.

“Ahhh!”

“Move.” His voice was like a crack of a whip, making sure I did as I was told. “Move with me, baby girl.”

Oh, my God!

Was it possible to die from too much pleasure?

Because I felt as if I was going to.

My breathing was choppy, my heart rate out of control, but I rocked against him. Ben’s cock grew thicker, signaling his imminent release. I was stretched to capacity already, but the added girth was the torch lighting my second orgasm.

“Ben,” I cried, overloaded.

This orgasm wasn’t as intense as the first; it was sweeter, more full-bodied, like small waves lapping at the shore.

Ben made a sound between a groan and a grunt behind me and shuddered, his cock twitching inside me.

Once his orgasm left him, he blanketed my back, his breathing heavy in my ear. We stayed like that until our pulses leveled and our breathing normalized.

“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” Ben whispered.

Where he was demanding and dominant before, he was now unsure, somewhat self-conscious.

His unpredictability left my head spinning.

Again, much to my annoyance, I found myself wanting to know why, to know him on a more intimate level.

Get your heart off the table, Sam.

Nevertheless, I found myself answering him truthfully. “No, handsome. You were perfect. I’ve never experienced anythin’ like that.”

Ben sighed heavily, the sound coming from somewhere deep. “Me too,” he whispered quietly, his words full of meaning.

Maybe I’m not the only one with their heart on the table.

I had to shove that thought aside and not look into it deeper. It would only lead to trouble.

We remained silent for a few more minutes. I had no idea what was going through Ben’s mind, but mine was basking in postcoital bliss. I’d missed feeling a man’s chest against my back, so I was relishing in it, as well.

Ben pressed a kiss to my shoulder, murmuring, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get rid of this condom.”

“’Kay,” I whispered, then gasped as he pulled out of me.

I rolled onto my back as he climbed out of bed and watched as his ass flexed all the way to the bathroom, enthralled.

Wow.

He had a gorgeous ass.

As the toilet flushed and the water ran in the sink, I pulled the covers back and slipped between the sheets, my lids growing heavy.

Best night of my life.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked as he walked back into the bedroom.

I let my eyes roam over his sculpted chest, then down to his half-hard cock. "Relaxin’,” I murmured, enjoying myself immensely.

Ben stopped at the edge of the bed, placing his hands on his hips, and smirked down at me, the diffident man from before nowhere to be seen. “Who said anything about relaxing?”

What?

“Huh?” fell from my lips before I could stop myself.

Ben chuckled and ripped the sheets from my body. “Oh, baby girl.” There was a predatory glint in his eye. “That was only the beginning.”

I licked my lips as he crawled into bed and positioned himself between my legs. “It was?”

He lapped at my nipple and rumbled, “Oh, yeah,” before trailing kisses down my stomach. He didn’t stop until his head was between my thighs and both legs were thrown over his shoulders. “We’ve got all night.”

Chapter 8

Ben

A familiar jingle
coaxed me from sleep. I groaned, my body aching in places it hadn’t ached in years, and opened my eyes, finding a nipple in front of my face.

Somehow during the night, I had curled myself around Samantha and rested my head on her chest as I slept. Oddly enough, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

I glanced at the clock, seeing that it was only ten in the morning, and let out another groan.

God, I’m too old for late night drinking.

Flashes of last night popped into my mind, and I smiled, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back.

I didn’t know sex could be like that, so licentious, so open and freeing. I didn’t have that type of sex with Gwen. In fact, my sex life with Gwen had been practically nonexistent since the beginning.

Samantha was wild, confident. She didn’t back down and met my hunger and need with just as much vigor. After the first session, we’d had made love three more times, finally falling asleep as the sun rose, both of us too exhausted to continue.

I’d felt like a randy teenager again and couldn’t get enough. As soon as we were done, my dick sprang back to life. I thought Samantha would push me away after the second time, but when she saw that I was hard again, she started grinning like a Cheshire cat. She slinked down the bed until she was between my legs and took me into her wicked mouth. Never, and I mean
never
, had I had a blowjob like that before. She got off on it, enjoying every second of it as if it were my head between her thighs.

I was rock hard just thinking about it.

The sound went off again, shaking me from my thoughts. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Samantha – she needed her energy for what I planned this morning – and found my phone in my discarded jeans. I crept into the bathroom and closed the door quietly, glancing at the screen.

Maggie calling.

I pang of guilt shot through me, but I battled it back. There was no reason to feel guilty. Maggie was married now, and I had moved on.

It was rather eye-opening that I felt more accountability towards my ex-girlfriend of sixteen years than I ever did for my ex-wife.

I sat that thought aside for a later date and answered, “Hey, Mags.”

“Ben? Are you okay?” she questioned nervously.

“Uh…yeah,” I replied, keeping my tone soft for Samantha’s sake. “What’s up?”

“It’s just… Well, when I woke this morning, you weren’t here. Paul and Lyric said you saw the girl from the plane again. I was wondering-”

“Listen, Mags, I don’t think-”

“Ben, did you come home at all? Is Lincoln with you?”

“What?” I questioned, confused by the whole conversation. “What do you mean, is Linc with me?”

“I didn’t know if you came home this morning and then you two went to do something. He’s not in his bed. At first, I thought he was sleeping in, but when he still hadn’t come out of his room, I went to check on him. He’s not there, so my only thought was that he’s with you. I wanted to make sure.”

Shit.

My conversation with him the night before came to mind. Apparently, my mother had offered to let him come live with her and my father. He was so excited about it when he told me, about going home to his friends and his old life, but I told Lincoln that we’d discuss it later. He took that as a no, which it was. There was no chance in hell I’d let him go back to Portland. Not only was Gwen there, but my father too.

Over my dead body.

Lincoln was oddly quiet after that, which, now that I thought about it, was uncharacteristic for him.

“No, Mags, Linc isn’t with me. I was out all night, and I haven’t been back.”

“Oh,” she whispered, distressed. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not,” I agreed, running my fingers through my hair.
Where could he be?
“Has he done this before?”

I was positive she’d say no, but if she didn’t, I wouldn’t be surprised either. I was unaware of all the happenings that had taken place in the months he’d been here.

“No, Ben. Never. I would have told you,” she confirmed, sounding hurt.

“I know. I’m sorry. Listen, give me half an hour and I’ll be back. I need…”
Shit, Samantha.
“Just give me a little time. We’ll find him.”

“Okay.” She sighed raggedly. “Okay. I’ll try his cell. If he doesn’t answer, I’ll check with some of his friends.”

What I would do without Maggie was beyond me.

“Thanks, Mags. I’m sure he’s fine,” I lied.

I wasn’t sure of anything.

I had no idea what was going through my son’s mind or what his life was like these days. Since I’d arrived, it was difficult to get him to say more than a few words to me. My plan to have a grand father-son vacation with him had been shot to hell since day one.

“Okay, Ben. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah…soon,” I muttered and disconnected.

I stared at myself in the mirror, fighting off self-loathing. It was a constant companion knowing that I’d let our relationship dwindle to nothing.

Damn you, Gwen.

It was her fault, but how did you tell your son that? No matter how much I hated my ex, I couldn’t damage Lincoln further by telling him that an evil bitch hid behind that pretty little mask.

I splashed some water on my face, banishing my thoughts. I needed to get moving. I borrowed Samantha’s toothbrush since it tasted like something died in my mouth. I’d already had it on every inch of her body, so I wasn’t too worried about germs.

Once I was done, I stalked back into the bedroom. Wistfully, I watched Samantha as she slept, her arms surrounding a pillow as she lay on her side.

God, she was stunning.

When I went to bed the night before, I had every intention of waking her and making love to her a few more times.

Sighing, I approached the bed. “Samantha?” I whispered, shaking her a bit. “Sweetheart, I have to go.”

She didn’t move, didn’t twitch…nothing.

“Samantha, I have to go. Come on, baby girl, wake up.”

Again, nothing.

She slept like the dead.

Shit, shit, shit.

I couldn’t leave her like this. If she woke and found me gone, she’d hate me forever, assuming I’d used her. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. What we shared the night before meant more to me than she could ever imagine. It was a gift after everything I’d endured.

“Samantha, sweetheart, wake up,” I called out more forcefully.

Again, I got nothing from her.

To be safe, I checked her pulse. Nope, she was alive and well, her breathing regular.

“Dear Lord, woman! Wake up,” I hollered.

Nothing.

I fucked her into unconsciousness,
I thought to myself with a chuckle. Or maybe it was the drinks.

Who knew?

But I had to get out of here.

Lincoln needed me.

Sighing, I decided to leave her a note. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do. I found some paper and scribbled a note, explaining that something came up and I couldn’t wake her. I told her to meet me at the hotel bar tonight at nine.

Once I was done, I eyed the note, wondering if I was making the right decision by seeing her again. I shouldn’t – I knew I shouldn’t. I didn’t come to London looking for anything, but Samantha smacked me upside the head, weaving her web around me and enchanting me since the moment she stood in front of me on the plane.

Sometime in the night, the thought of keeping her, of seeing her again when we got home, took root in my mind and wouldn’t let go. The possibilities seemed endless since I knew we wouldn’t be far from one another. I made the decision that I wasn’t letting her go without giving this, us, a shot. What we experienced last night, this connection we shared, was too phenomenal to pass up. I’d be kicking myself in the ass for the rest of my life if I did.

How it would work with everything going on was beyond me, but I owed it to myself to try. I deserved happiness, damn it, and in the short amount of time I’d known her, Samantha made me happier than I’d been in years.

I snorted to myself. What in the hell happened to my head? I’d done a complete one-eighty.

Kissing her temple, I whispered, “I’ll see you tonight.”

∞

When I walked into Maggie and Paul’s, I found Maggie and Lyric waiting on the couch together in the sitting room.

“Hey,” I greeted them. “Any word?”

“Hello to you too, Casanova,” Lyric teased. “Long night? How’s Samantha this fine morning?”

“Lyric,” I grumbled in warning, annoyed. “If it were any other time, I’d play along, but my son is missing.”

Lyric rolled her eyes. “Jeez, guys, calm down. He’s a teenager. You do remember what that’s like, right?” Her gaze dinged between Maggie and me. “Your hormones are all out of whack, and you feel like you know everything there is to know about life. Let the kid blow off some steam. He’ll come around.”

“Easy for you to say,” I groused. “He’s not your kid.”

Offended, she squared her shoulders and glared at me. “I love Linc, too. Like you, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. But, Ben, he hasn’t had it easy. Give him a break.”

“Normally, I would,” I countered. “But he called last night, telling me that my mother said he could live with her.”

“Oh, no,” Maggie breathed, wringing her hands. “Why would she do that? Is she nuts?!”

“We’ve known that for some time, Mags,” I muttered, scrubbing my face. “I don’t plan on saying yes, but I didn’t tell him no.”

Frowning, Lyric questioned, “But he assumed, right?”

“Yep,” I confirmed.

“And you stayed out all night knowing this?!” Maggie cried, horrified.

I was already kicking myself in the ass for not realizing the ramifications of that call. I didn’t need Maggie’s criticism on top of that.

Lyric spoke up, “Mags, that’s not your place. What Ben does in his free time and how he makes his decisions are none of your concern.”

“She’s right, Mags. That’s a low blow.”

Maggie wilted under our reproach. “Sorry. I know.” She ran a hand down her pregnant belly, shaking her head. “These damn hormones make me irrational and crazy sometimes. I know this isn’t your fault, Ben. I’m just scared. This city is so different from home.”

I let it slide and asked, “Has he answered your calls?”

If I tried, he’d ignore me. He wouldn’t Maggie, though – he adored her.

“No, Ben. His phone is off.”

Why did I have a feeling she’d say that?

“His friends?” I questioned, the weight of the world on my shoulders.

“They don’t know where he is.”

“Right. Okay.” I pursed my lips and went through the options in my head. “We’ll give him ’til noon. If he hasn’t checked in, or we still can’t find him, I’ll start going to his friends’ houses. They could be covering for him, but their mothers won’t. We’ll find him eventually.”

“I don’t know where all of them live,” Maggie pointed out, shifting nervously. “A lot of the time they come here.”

“I’m sure there are ways to find out. If not, Linc has to turn his phone on at some point. He won’t go too long without it – that thing is glued to his hand twenty-four-seven. When that happens, I can track the GPS on his phone. We’ll find him.”

“I hope you’re right, Ben,” Maggie murmured, slumping into the couch.

I walked to the window and rested my ass on the sill, my exhaustion getting the better of me. “Me too, Mags. Me too.”

“Now that is out of the way…” Lyric’s smile was sly and eager. “How’s Miss Carolina this morning?”

“Lyric…” I warned.

Maggie giggled, her eyes brightening with glee. “I couldn’t believe it when Paul told me you went home with someone. Then to find out that she was the one you were telling me about… That’s crazy, Ben.”

These women…

“Are we really doing this?” I questioned, exasperated.

“Come on,” Lyric urged. “Just give us some details.”

I scoffed, “Hell, no. Why would I do something like that?”

“Not details,
details
,” Lyric clarified. “There’s some things I don’t need to know.”

“Is that right?” I drawled. If Lyric had her way, she’d want to know the exact positions.

“Oh, come on! I just want to know if you had fun…if you like her. Come on, Benjy.” She pouted and gave me big, puppy-dog eyes. “You can tell me anything.”

I chuckled and massaged my forehead. “I have no idea how to respond to that, Lyric.”

Maggie’s voice came out small. “Do you care about her, Ben? Or was it a one-night thing?”

Shit.

Even Lyric seemed uncomfortable with the sound of Maggie’s voice.

I couldn’t ignore Maggie when she questioned me. In fact, I couldn’t ignore either of their questions for too long. Besides Paul, because of the way my life had worked out, both women were my closest confidants. Any friends I had while growing up had abandoned me once I became a father.