Aflame

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Sequel to Chapter 2 - Waking Up - picks up immediately where that left off.

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The warm glow of late summer out on a hillside near Aubrey Hall is no match for the words Benedict whispers hotly into your ear.

"After all, you'll need all that food after I'm done keeping you up all night."

You can't help the noise that escapes your lips from that line, so turned on from pleasuring him that you're actually vibrating with need, your thighs rubbing together subconsciously.

"Ben, I... fuck... I want you so much I'm shaking," you stumble out quietly.

Suddenly, you are on your back, him surging over you. He pins your wrists to the picnic blanket and holds you there.

"Tell me everything," his voice is desperate, "I want to hear it. Tell me how much you want me."

"I...." You've lost the ability to speak under the intensity of his gaze. Your body is thrumming, but your mind is blank. "I don't have the words. I can't think straight. I just need you so much," you admit, almost ashamed. "I've never been this turned on in my life."

"Show me," he urges, breathing heavily, releasing your arms but still hovering over you.

You scramble to open your jeans, your knuckles brushing his thighs as you fight your clothing. You push them down your hips, shuffling around under him.

"Fucking hell," he exhales as he sits up slightly.

His gaze is trained between your legs; you can feel your light blue underwear soaked through. He rears up and tugs your jeans off your shins in one swift, rough motion. Then he collapses onto you, his face buried right into your cotton knickers.

"You smell amazing," he breathes and suckles the material; the heat of his mouth through the thin layer makes you gasp loudly, sending shockwaves all over your body. "You taste it, too."

"I need to come. Please, please help me..."

He doesn't say anything to your mindless plea; he just pulls your underwear aside, questing his tongue through your folds. You shout a curse, and your whole upper body rises at the sudden rush of sensation. A large hand lands between your clothed breasts and pushes you back down, firm but not rough, a hold that grounds you.

Then he lashes against your clit.

"Ben, oh my fucking god!" You exclaim, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the blanket.

"I have this overwhelming need to make you scream," he rumbles, muffled into your flesh before turning his head and lightly biting the meat of your inner thigh.

"Please..." you stutter, staring down at him, still slightly shocked this is happening.

He wears a secret, crooked smile as he pulls your underwear down your legs, disposing of them over his shoulder without paying heed to where they land.

For some reason, the idea that your best friend would be this person never occurred to you. But as his hands band behind the back of your knees and force your legs wide apart, you are floored by how raw this is. In idle moments when you'd thought about it in the past, you'd always figured he would be one of those sweet, perhaps timid lovers, but he's not. It's much better than that—an edginess that has metallic want blooming in your mouth.

"Look at me," he demands, and you do, gazing down your body to his handsome face framed by your thighs dappled in the shade of the mighty oak.

You watch him sink between your legs again, and you hold his gaze as he swipes his tongue all the way from your pussy to your clit, lingering there, rolling around, sealing his mouth around the whole area. You curse again, your gaze locked onto his eyes. Fiery and challenging, with endless blown pupils. You are certain yours are the same, so achingly aroused.

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