Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family) Read online

  I can’t wait to trace every ridge on his stomach and those oblique muscles with my tongue. He’s watching me with an expression of pure male want, stroking himself while his eyes scan me, and lust shoots through me. He’s scorching hot for me.

  “Just so you know, tonight I’m going to take my time with you. I won’t leave any inch of you undiscovered.”

  I swallow. Old fears rush in and I bite the inside of my cheek, searching for the right words. “Can we turn the lights off?”

  Blake jerks his head back in surprise. “If it makes you comfortable, of course.”

  I nod and he switches the light off, then joins me on the bed, lounging next to me, propping his head in his hand.

  “Clara, I know I’m so hard that I can barely see straight, but if you want to wait, or you’ve just changed your mind, tell me. We’ll still be friends and neighbors.”

  I appreciate this more than he can know. But I have to open up—it’s preferable to Blake thinking I don’t want him. Because I do. Desperately.

  “I have some marks on my back.”

  “Marks?”

  “Yeah, scars.”

  For all my bravado, the first time always makes me nervous. It seems to be worse with Blake, which is ridiculous because I trust him more than anyone I’ve been with. But maybe especially because of that, I want him to really like me, to hopefully accept all parts of me.

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “One of the kids at the group home did a prank. He mixed acid in my shower gel.”

  Blake’s body goes rigid next to me.

  “I was super lucky that I accidentally hit the bottle and the contents spilled onto my back first.”

  “That was no prank.”

  Right, time to lay it all out. “No, it was an attempt to intimidate me. One of the older kids, Hank, bullied all the younger ones. He bit a five-year-old badly, then threatened everyone not to tell on him. I told on him. That was his revenge.”

  Hank was the resident bully at the group home. The shrink who sometimes came by the group home tried to explain that some kids took out the hurt of being abandoned by lashing out at others. But I couldn’t be understanding, hard as I tried. No matter his background, he’d made the choice to hurt others. He kept making that choice. There was no excuse for that.

  “Are you hurting?”

  “No, it happened almost twenty years ago. It doesn’t hurt, just looks a bit alien. But if I’m on my back, you can only see my good parts, and you can’t accidentally touch anything alien.”

  Blake’s gaze turns hard. Even with only the moonlight highlighting him, I can see the change. “Let me make one thing clear. I don’t want you to hide any part of yourself from me, Clara. Ever.”

  He moves closer, almost half over me, and the skin-on-skin contact fires me up.

  “I don’t want you to feel you have to hide from me,” he continues softly, trailing his mouth to my ear, then down my neck. When he nibbles at the hollow of my neck, I inhale sharply.

  “I wasn’t hiding, just...okay, I was hiding.” Gathering my courage around me, I add, “But not anymore. Do you want to turn on the lights?”

  “Don’t do it for me. Only if you want to.”

  “Those are some fine muscles you have there, Bennett. I want to lick up every one of those excellent lines. It’d be a pity not to admire them at the same time.”

  Blake moves to the light switch and back so fast I have to bite back a smile. Once he’s in bed, I climb over him, intending to make good on my promise. I start with his pecs, slowly working my way down licking, and touching and licking some more. Blake grips my hair, pressing his finger pads slightly against my scalp. When I lick his erection from the tip to the base, he jolts into a sitting position, pulling me right into his lap. I land with my opening right above his pelvic bone. I shudder, because my clit got a good shake in the process too. I’m dripping, which he can feel.

  “Your turn.”

  “But I wasn’t done.”

  “If you continue, I’ll lose control, and I promised I’d take my time. I don’t break my promises.

  He lays me on my back, climbing over me, and sweet heavens, the things he does to me. His mouth is everywhere, as are his hands. On my breasts, sucking my nipples—twisting my them, just enough that there is no pain, just pleasure. He descends all the way to my navel, then lower still, completely ignoring my soaked slit. The bastard. He makes it all the way down to my ankles before going back up, kissing inch by inch. I’m ready to break out of my skin, but I can tell he isn’t done.

  He’s right above me when he commands, “Turn over.”

  I’m so turned on and I trust him so deeply that I do as he says the very next second, fighting the age-old fear of rejection, drowning the self-doubt. I’m completely still as I lie on my stomach, listening.

  I’m waiting for him to say something, but instead he does something completely different. He kisses me right there, on that skin that is proof of less happier years. The only part of me I felt compelled to keep out of sight. He touches and kisses, and not only accepts that part of me but embraces it. Soon he moves to other parts, and as he kisses up my spine, my limbs relax, every last wisp of nervousness melting.

  He pulls away, parting my legs. Anticipation courses through me, and I turn slightly so I can see what he’s up to.

  “Don’t turn. Don’t look. Just feel.” His voice is so strong and commanding; it sends a white-hot tingle right to my clit. I rest my head back on the pillow, simply giving in to him.

  Blake parts my thighs wide, settles between them. He splays his hands on my butt, his thumbs pressing my folds together, his fingers pushing my ass cheeks together. When he swipes his tongue long and hard across the crack, my legs stiffen and my tummy contracts. I press my forehead against the pillow, breathing in through my nose. Then he parts my folds and ass cheeks, licking the space in between.

  “Blaaaaaaaaaaaake.” Pleasure radiates through me like a shock to my system. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. He moves his hands under my pelvis, lifting me slightly so he can kiss better. With every swipe of his tongue, he brings me closer to the edge, until it feels like every nerve ending in my body is wired to my clit.

  I realize I pushed the pillow away at some point and am now pressing my forehead against the mattress, fisting the bedsheet. I’ve never been on display like this. The sheer intimacy of this is too much. I’m going to implode if he doesn’t fill me soon. The need, the ache for him is unbearable.

  “Blake, please.”

  “I need to get you wet and ready, Clara.”

  The ache intensifies upon hearing his voice. It’s in a lower octave than usual, husky and primal.

  “I am ready! Please. I need you inside me.”

  I’m relieved when the mattress shifts.

  “Condom,” he says on a groan, in a tone that clearly indicates he forgot to bring any.

  I have a small pack—housewarming gift from Penny. I reach for the nightstand, opening the drawer and retrieving the package, which I then hand to him.

  I tremble with anticipation while I hear him rip it open, then the softer sound indicating he’s rolling on the condom.

  Then he lounges over me, propping his knees on the outside of my thighs, pressing my legs together. The tip of his erection is pressing up and down my entrance, and if I thought the ache was unbearable before, it’s killing me now. If I could part my legs, he’d slide right into me, but I can’t because his granite thighs are pressing mine together. He has the control. It’s delicious and terrifying at the same time.

  When he finally pushes just the tip inside me, I hold my breath. Then he slides in, inch by inch, and I let out a loud, guttural moan. He feels amazing inside me. Amazing and huge, and he isn’t even all in.

  “Oh God!” Blake stills, breathing against the back of my neck. And then he pushes all the way in, and all my muscles contract.

  “You’re so snug and warm. You feel amazing, Clara.”


  My heart soars. I want this to be as out-of-this-world good for him as it is for me. He slides in and out, with measured strokes. Every time he pulls back, I feel a sense of loss, but he quickly pushes back in, filling me again. I close my eyes, overcome by sensation. Blake intertwines one hand with mine and slides the other one between me and the mattress, finding my tender spot. A sound between a moan and a whimper escapes my lips as tremors take over my entire body. I succumb to all the sinful sensations as our frantic breaths and cries fill the room. Blake moves furiously now, pinning me against the mattress, and I’m soaking in all his passion and desire.

  I come hard, riding the wave of my orgasm right until he joins me too.

  Afterward, he stays on top of me for a long while, and as our breaths regain a regular rhythm, I can’t help thinking that this didn’t feel like just sex, or fun.

  It felt like everything.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Clara

  “I need to shower,” I say after a while. We’re still entangled in each other’s arms.

  “So do I. How about we do it together?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I can’t help a grin.

  “You’re shameless.”

  “You have a dirty mind, Clara.”

  “So you weren’t thinking about doing wicked things to me in the shower?” I pout.

  “Nah, or you’ll be sore tomorrow. I’m just going to help you clean up.”

  “Fine, let’s go clean up, Bennett.”

  We walk to the shower holding hands, and for some reason this feels incredibly intimate. Blake starts the water, testing the temperature by bringing his hand in front of the spray every few seconds, only letting me in when it’s warm enough. I love this protective side of him.

  He reaches for my shower gel and sniffs through the open lid. I giggle when he recoils. “Right, no shower gel for me.”

  “But you always say you like how I smell.”

  “Yeah, I like it on you.”

  I know it smells too girly, peach and honey. When I hold out my palm for Blake to pour in it, he shakes his head.

  “I’m cleaning you.”

  “I thought you were just going to help me out in a few spots.”

  “You need my help everywhere,” he says seriously.

  “You decided that for me, huh?”

  “Yeah. Anything against it?”

  “Not at all.” I lean back against the cold tiles. “I’m all yours.”

  Blake’s eyes flash as he pours shower gel in his hands, rubs his palms together to warm it up, then gets to work. I have to give it to him; he’s perfectly composed as he slides his hands all over my body. He seems to particularly favor my breasts and slit, the bastard. I’m so turned on I want to climb him on the spot.

  I barely register when he turns me around, soaping my back too. All of my back, including the scars. I tighten up a bit, then relax again. It’s okay; this is Blake. I trust him, and I love his touch. After the warm spray washes away the soap, he turns the water off and hugs me from behind, wrapping his arms around me, resting his mouth in the nook of my neck. It feels good, and innocent... right up until I press my ass into him and feel his rock-hard erection.

  “Just ignore it,” Blake says.

  “But I don’t want to. I want to kiss it, lick it. In general thank it for the fabulous job it’s done.” I turn around, looking up at him. “Just putting it out there, but I won’t go to sleep tonight. I have to get up in three hours anyway. Now, I have a few ideas about how we could fill those hours....”

  “Are you trying to corrupt me?”

  “Is it working?”

  “I don’t want you to be sore tomorrow.”

  “Clearly I need to sharpen my temptation skills.”

  “You’re killing me, Clara. Let’s get out of this shower and put some clothes on.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’m going to take care of you.”

  I did not expect this comeback. He takes my hand again as he leads us back to the room. I slip into a robe, and Blake puts on his boxers. He looks like an underwear model, with his six-pack and wet hair. I can imagine what an uproar he’s causing every time he goes to the beach. Women are probably vying for him. A pang of jealousy shoots through me, making my heart squeeze. I’m being silly, and I’m determined not to waste any second worrying. I have much better things to do until I leave. I want to get my fill of all things Blake: his smile, his touch, his humor. I’m going to miss him, and that’s ridiculous, because I will only be gone for five days.

  “I need to pack.”

  “Hell, and I thought I did last-minute packing.”

  “Not my fault. I was going to do that before going to bed, but then someone bulldozed over my plans.” I elbow him, pointing to the suitcase resting on top of the dresser. “Can you get that for me?”

  “Sure.”

  I lean against the wall, tightening my robe. Blake walks to the dresser, and he’s so tall that he can easily reach the suitcase by extending one arm. The expanse of his back is ripped and as I look closely, I notice a few scratches on his shoulder blades, four on each one. I don’t remember doing that. Just as I don’t remember biting him, but there’s a definite mark on his bicep as he flexes it to retrieve the suitcase. Heavens, what a sight this is. I should store more of my belongings at that level, ask him to reach for them. The movement makes good use of quite a few muscle groups. It’s a good workout for him, and a delectable sight for my eyes.

  Totally a win-win situation.

  He lowers the suitcase and catches me gazing at him.

  “See anything you like?”

  Eh, what’s a girl to do when she’s caught spying? Deny or come forward. I decide on the latter, and if I’m going to own up to it, I’m going to be thorough about it.

  “Make that everything. You’re handy to keep around. You can assemble furniture and are tall enough to remove objects without needing an extra chair.”

  “That list is far from exhaustive.”

  “Forgot to mention your mad orgasm skills.”

  “That’s my Clara,” he declares with a grin, and my heart soars.

  Winking, he lifts the suitcase, placing it at the foot of the bed. I unhitch myself from the wall, walking to the dresser. Opening the drawers, I intend to inspect the contents so I can decide what to take with me, but I don’t have a chance. Blake hooks an arm around my waist, sweeps my hair to one side, and places tiny kisses on my neck.

  “You’re the one corrupting me now.”

  “And you’re enjoying it.”

  “I’m never going to be ready on time like this.”

  “Maybe that’s my plan, so I can keep you here with me.”

  His tone is playful and raw in equal measures. I wonder if I picked up on the rawness because he’s more open, or if because of everything we experienced tonight, I feel closer to him. He spins me around until I face him.

  He drags his knuckles down my cheek, resting his hand on my neck, splaying his fingers wide.

  “You’re not just a distraction to me. I want you to know that.”

  I swallow in surprise, because I hadn’t pegged Blake as the type to talk so openly about this.

  “Thank you for being so open. You’re not a distraction either, but I’m not expecting anything. I want you to know that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That I don’t need a label on this. I know I gave a big speech when I moved in about what I want, but I just need you. No labels.”

  Neither of us says it out loud, but I strongly suspect that whatever this is between us will come to a natural end by the time I move out. My heart crumbles a bit at the thought.

  “Anything you want.”

  Well, that’s a dangerous statement to make. What I want is to dote on him, learn all the things he likes, then do them just to see him happy. Maybe he could love me, a hopeful voice supplies somewhere in the recess of my mind. I swallow hard, chasing that silly thought away.

  B
lake smiles and touches his nose to mine in an Eskimo kiss. “Now, let’s get you ready.”

  I make quick work of packing. After laying out my outfit for the road and stuffing the bag of toiletries in the suitcase, I zip it up.

  “Done?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Now let’s get some breakfast into you.”

  “I don’t have anything in my fridge.”

  “I have some eggs and toast. I’ll be right back.”

  My surprise must have registered on my face because he adds, “Told you I’ll take care of you.”

  He kisses the tip of my nose again, then slips into his jeans and leaves the apartment. I barely have time to search for a pan and place it on the stove when he returns, a box of six eggs in one hand, bread in the other. I reach for the eggs, but he shakes his head.

  “I’m making you breakfast.”

  “You can cook?”

  “No, but I make a mean sunny side up.”

  I laugh. “That’s a lifesaving skill right there.”

  As I watch him cook for me, I can barely contain my happiness. It might seem a small thing to some, but not to me. I hover around him, under the guise of helping him—I’m not—but I want to be as close to him as possible, touch him without being obvious. The kitchen is small, after all.

  “You either have a problem with calculating the distance, or you’re looking for any opportunity to feel me up.”

  I bat my eyelashes at him. “Guilty.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m an enabler. Feel me up all you want.”

  Well, what’s a girl to do when she’s given free reign? Take advantage and do so thoroughly. So while Blake busies himself with the eggs—which take a suspiciously long time, so I think they’re going to be burnt to a crisp when all is said and done—I move my hands over his shoulder blades, kissing in between, then trace his spine with my mouth.

  Then I step back and admire him. What I wouldn’t give to snap some photos of him. I deleted those pics I took when I moved in because I know enough of the cloud and how the wrong pics could fall into the wrong hands by mistake (and anyway, they are imprinted on my retinas, no need for physical evidence).