Authors: Jennifer Willows
At the bare contact of his fingers, she shuddered slightly, the shivers told a story that her lips wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. She was his, the woman of his dreams, the woman he needed even before he knew what he sought from Kylie all those years ago. But they were worlds apart, and he didn’t think that he was perfect. Far from it. In fact, she was closer to the state than he was.
She just didn’t know it.
Her eyes were closed so tightly that he wondered what she was trying to escape from. Was his touch repulsive to her? Was she repulsed by the idea of him forever, the same way that Kylie seemed to be? Her head sagged and he felt the water splash his chest in fat droplets, now that her body no longer fully diverted the stream.
“Look at me Amelia.” She turned her head and he looked at her, truly looked into her eyes and saw something that astounded him.
She wanted him. Her eyes were soft with love but heat behind them burned violently with lust. Ben had never seen a woman who seemed so hungry, yet so removed. She was still and quiet, as if she were afraid of the heat between them. He wondered how a woman could be so vital, but still able to keep herself composed as if her needs had no sway over her reactions.
Ben wasn’t afraid of it. Actually, he felt as if he wanted to revel in it. He cupped the injured cheek in one hand and lowered his forehead to hers. The pants that he wore were sodden with water and he clasped her hand with his, bringing the meshed digits to the liquid logged band to push the fabric to the bottom of the tub.
She refused to look at his as the pants wetly plopped to the tiles. But he wasn’t having that.
“Look at me, Amelia, or I’m going to think that I repulse you.”
“No. I’m far from repulsed Ben.”
“Then why are you hiding from me?”
“Because, I don’t know what’s next.”
“Really? Well, if you haven’t had that talk yet, I can pencil you in.” He chuckled and waggled his brows. “The short version is, usually when two people love each other, they put tab A and slot B together, and that’s how babies are made.”
Amelia gasped then started laughed uncontrollably, finally her eyes met his and he was grateful that instead of shadows he saw mirth. Even if it broke the mood a little, he could recover that. His hand still gingerly cupped the scarred skin and he pulled away before he leaned in and kissed every inch of her jaw then gave the flesh up to her forehead the same treatment.
“I didn’t mean that next, Ben…” But he saw her put two and two together and get the four she was mean to. “Wait? Did you say…”
He cut her off. “I did Amelia.” He smiled as her eyes dampened and he watched one warm tear escape her right eye that he kissed away from her cheek. Although the left one was threatening to do the same and his thumb caressed the soft flesh beneath her eye as the water dripped from her lashes.
“Can we get out of here?” She smiled brightly.
“Sure can.” He leaned into her and pushed the valve until the water ran from the faucet instead of the shower.
Amelia turned the knob at her back until the water stopped running. Ben stepped from the shower and pulled her into his arms. He carried her through the closet framed hallway until they dripped in front of the bed.
“Oooh Ben and you made breakfast? Wow.”
“Yeah, I made breakfast. But I find I’m hungry for more than a mere snack right now.”
“I didn’t have any muffins.” She looked at him, her eyebrow cocked up questioningly.
“I baked them with the bananas you had in the kitchen.”
“If you can make those bananas look this good, I don’t want to know what you could do with real food and time.” Amelia laughed and he loved the brightness of her smile. Her teeth could rival the sun and the light in her eyes made her glow.
He wondered what she would look like in the glow of their lovemaking, or aglow with their child.
There’s only one way to find out.
Ben sat her at the edge of the bed and handed her one of the still warm muffins.
“Go ahead.”
She looked at him and took a fat bite of the crusty exposed edge at the top. “Mmmm…” Amelia muttered around the half-masticated mouthful. But Ben had other plans for her right now, though all she had to do was eat and he would take care of the rest in short order.
“I’ll be right back.” He winked and walked away.
Ben searched for a bottle of lotion. He knew she would need the lubricant on her skin to keep the scar tissue supple. There had to be some that was medically prescribed. He didn’t find anything with a scripted label. But he did find a jar with a thick viscous unguent and he knew he hit pay dirt as the lid opened. The balm smelled like honeysuckle.
He carried the jar out and brought it with him back to the bed. In the few minutes he was away, Amelia had polished off half of the huge muffin. Not to mention, she had covered herself with a robe.
“Take it off.” He said, and the statement was far from a question.
“But I’m naked!”
“Hmm, and here I thought that was obvious. As you can see, you won’t be alone.” He looked down at his cock, which had begun to thicken with her bold appraisal. “I had wondered for a long time, why you always smelled like my childhood. Honeysuckle drifted past me every time I was within eye shot of you. I like it.”
“Thanks, I make it myself.”
He sat the jar down and pulled the ties of the robe apart to reveal a strip of tan flesh that never saw daylight. He could tell as the skin there was several shades lighter that her face, hands and feet.
“Go ahead, finish your muffin Amelia.”
“Uh… Okay.”
When she put her lips back to the half-eaten baked good, he opened the jar and scooped a handful up. Ben rubbed his hands together to warm the contents and slathered her legs and feet. When he had spread the balm over her skin she gasped and choked a bit on the crumbs in her mouth. Ben leaned over and handed her a cup of juice from the tray.
Amelia finally took a normal breath and he resumed as she sat the mug back down.
“You okay?” He asked and she didn’t verbally respond. Instead she nodded once and he let his fingers speak for him.
At first the digits roamed her feet, caressed the skin over her ankles and palmed the bottom. She groaned and he smiled, “Finish your muffin.”
“You are crazy. How do you expect me to eat while you’re touching me?”
“Yes, I am crazy enough to expect for you to eat the muffin I baked for you while I rub your body all over. And that’s not all you have on your plate either.”
Chapter Ten: Literal and Figurative Muffins for Breakfast
Amelia was stupefied. Here she was eating a muffin that the man before her was kind enough to bake, and she was barely able to swallow a single bite. Well, she amended as she looked at said muffin, she had the opportunity to eat half of the delicious thing. But every morsel that she had eaten seemed to become a paste inside her mouth that no amount of swallowing could dissipate.
The balm he used to rub her feet and calves was made in her own kitchen. It was a bunch of things, shea and cocoa butters, coconut oil and her personally handmade blend of scents. One of which was honeysuckle, along with lavender and Moroccan vanilla. But the country boy he was, he noticed the honeysuckle above everything else.
Though, she couldn’t bother with the idea of what she used to make her unguent, he had her discombobulated at the first touch of his fingers. She had never touched herself the way he was. Her hands had never rubbed over her flesh as if the expanse was worth savoring. Ben did. He treated every caress of skin as if it were worthy of love. But she couldn’t eradicate the thought that as soon as he reached the parts of her that were disfigured, his hands would shy away.
His hands had reached her lower thighs and now more than ever, Amelia was fearful of what he would find at the apex of the limbs. She was more than wet, and there was no way the questing digits could miss her feminine nectar. “Um, don’t you think you should eat?”
“That sounds like the best idea either of us has had all day.” Ben smiled at her, and she offered a slivered wedge of mango that she sandwiched between two bits of kiwi. He shook his head. “Feed me, Amelia.”
She placed the fruit between his lips.
“Do you want more?” She asked.
“Yes.”
But when she leaned over to offer another wedge of fruit, this one an apple slice, Ben didn’t take it. Instead his eyes lowered and she could see that he was ogling her wet thighs and sticky sex. He licked his lips and spread her knees, which she had pinned together in embarrassment.
“I think what I want isn’t on the menu.”
She opened her lips to speak, but before she could stop him or ask for more, his fingers parted the lips of her wet cunt and she was left speechless. He studied each crevice with his eyes and Amelia waited with bated breath for what she knew was coming.
But she was wrong. Instead of the fingers she assumed he would probe and manipulate her with, it was his mouth that descended on her fleshy folds. Amelia knew that people performed oral sex on each other, but she had never personally had the chance to feel lips on her pussy.
But no matter how much she had imagined the hands would feel on her, the tongue he probed her with was ten times more sublime. Amelia groaned and the left over bit of muffin was quickly forgotten. His mouth was everywhere, as if he inhaled her cunt whole for one hugely greedy bite. The sensations were so elaborately woven, almost diabolical, that each nerve sang in joy.
She panted and watched him taste her, the dining on her flesh so through and complete that she was unable to do anything more than clench his hair and squeeze her legs around the bulk of his shoulders.
“You like that?” He asked, but the question had to be rhetorical. There was no way he could expect her to respond to him verbally. But he waited for her response. Once she nodded frantically, he lowered his head again. And yet, even though she logically knew what to expect, she was still was unable to contain her gasps and cries of pleasure.
“I-I-I’m going to— No sooner than she said it, did he plunge two fingers into her convulsing snatch. Then what she had threatened was now a reality as he jabbed the tips of his fingers at a spot near the entry of cunt.
Her body bucked, no longer under her own control, nor did she try to cease her hips from jerking as wave after wave drowned her within a sea of seduction. When he ceased toying with her cunt, Amelia’s head lowed back to the headboard. Her skull thudded against the heavy wood, but even the slight pain was not enough to wipe the smile from her lips.
She opened her eyes and looked over at Ben, he now laid on his side and faced her. She roved her gaze over the landscape of man before her. Amelia was so hungry for more that her ogle hungrily ate the flesh from his bones, yet he remained whole and healthy before her.
Amelia wanted to give him the same pleasure she just had. She wanted him to lose himself to her lips the same way she had lost herself under his mouth. Her tongue itched to feel the thick cock in front of her. The meaty club hung south, fat and the eye wept a droplet of pre-cum that she so wanted to taste the consistency and flavor of.
Ben smirked “Nuh-uh. You can’t have that yet.”
“Why not?” She was truly confused.
“Because I want you to eat your breakfast, Amelia and I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
“That is asinine, I’m an adult and if I want my dessert first, then that’s my prerogative.”
“True. But I think if you eat first, then you’ll have energy for all of the fun we’re about to have.”
“What is good for the goose is good for the gander, Benjamin.”
“Ah, I do love wise women who can spout proverbs at the drop of a hat.”
“Huh.” She grunted. “Seems like you would stop talking and start eating then.”
“Ladies first.” But she saw how he looked askance at the discarded muffin, now a mass of crumbs on the pillow next to her. Only then did she realize he wore a fistful of crumbs in his hair and she had dough under her fingernails.
She stood and more of the crumbs scattered to the floor.
Ben dismantled the sheets and watched him toss the mass into the hamper. Amelia ducked into her closet where she had a small vacuum that she could use on the floor. When she came back he was already fitting a new sheet to the bed.