This isn't weird.

The second his mouth was on hers, Millie forgot all about her shyness. There was no room left in her head for it; it was all taken up now by the smell of him, the clean fragrance of shampoo and laundry soap intermingled faintly with the organic scent of masculinity, of Ben, his sweat, his skin, his humid breath tickling her upper lip as their breathing grew heavier. More space still belonged to the insistent pressure of his lips on hers, to the tip of his tongue, slippery and assertive as it sought out its counterpart, and to the tidal wave of electricity it sent roiling through the furthest reaches of her body, its swirling epicenter that pulsating somewhere deep inside her core.

She didn't consciously realize she was grinding against him until his hands grabbed her hips and raised them up a few inches above his lap. "You need to slow down a little, sweetheart," he said through gritted teeth. "I will never forgive you if you make me come before I even get inside you."

"Sorry," she purred. "It felt good."

"You know what? I'm hereby revoking your cowgirl license," Ben announced. He stood up, lifting Millie along with him, and threw her down onto the bed. "You can't be trusted. I'm on top now." He climbed over her and straddled her hips, then took hold of her wrists and cheerfully pinned them to the mattress over her head.

Evidently, Drunk Millie was not the only one who got a thrill from a bit of manhandling. "That... is also good," Millie breathed, a dazed sort of sparkle in her eyes as she stared up at him.

So she really did like to be thrown around a little, held down, overpowered—that was information he could most certainly use to his advantage. But he would have to work his way up to that, to make sure she felt completely safe before he experimented any further with that particular facet of her sexual appetites. His hands were careful not to grip her slender wrists too tightly, or exert too much weight on them as he bent down to resume that glorious kiss.

It felt so natural to kiss her, so easy and intuitive and utterly right. How had he spent so long double guessing an impulse that was so obviously the exact thing the universe had intended for them all along? Soon, though, his lips digressed from her mouth, and she tilted her chin up eagerly to give him better access to her throat. He began at the top, working downward at the most frustrating pace possible, feeling the vibrations of her every impatient whimper. As he began to nuzzle into the dip of her collarbone, another set of vibrations caught his attention. He stopped and turned his head to place his ear against her chest.

"Your heart is beating so fast," Ben said, bemused. His own heart was pounding, but it was nothing compared to hers. "You sound like a scared little rabbit."

He regretted mentioning it at once. The lusty flush that had her face glowing such a lovely shade of pink deepened with embarrassment, until her cheeks were burning a shameful scarlet. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm so nervous!" she confessed.

"Nervous?" he asked, drawing himself up to look into her face. He offered her a reassuring smile. "Why are you nervous, sweetheart?"

"I—I had some time to overthink it while I was waiting for you, I guess," she stammered. "I just, um, I haven't... with a man... in a really long time, so I'm... I'm a tiny bit afraid it might, um, hurt?"

"Aw, Mills." Releasing her wrists, Ben took her face in his hands. "Thank you for telling me that. I'm gonna take good care of you, okay? I'll take my time," he assured her, then kissed the tip of her nose. "I won't hurt you. I'll make you feel good. I promise."

"I—I might not remember what I'm doing at first," Millie said. "I don't know if I'll be any good."

Ben burst into laughter, fully expecting her to join in, but her face remained nervous and still. "Wait, that was a joke, right?" he asked. "You're not serious?"