A Stranger's Touch -- Wattys2015

Chapter Seven

A light rumble in her throat told Ben she wouldn't push him again. When he kissed up her neckline, seeking her full lips, she turned her head. The message was clear, no kiss for him.

"Trust me," he whispered against her ear. "Just one kiss, just one."

She shook her head, a stubborn streak around her mouth.

Irritation gripped his gut. He slid his hand behind her back to unclasp her bra. She folded her arms over her head, crossed wrists and closed her eyes. She gave herself up, but only offered her body, not her heart.

He clamped his hand, hard, over her crossed wrists, putting more of his strength into it. Her eyes shot open and he gave a low laugh at the stunned look on her face.

"Come on," he whispered against her mouth, "try to get free."

She bucked against him, undoubtedly to break free of his hold in earnest, and not just that titillating wiggle she'd taunted him with a moment before.

He shifted his entire body against hers, holding her against the wall. Need wavered up in him, the need to possess her, to be inside her, take her by force.

He cupped her breast. Heavy and firm, it fit his hand perfectly. Her heartbeat drummed against his palm. Feeling her nipple tightening beneath his fingers made his erection painfully hard. He crushed his mouth on hers, sneaking his tongue between her lips, getting a taste of her sweetness.

And for three fast heartbeats, her full mouth yielded under his lips. Then her teeth nipped into him with more force than he could endure.

He let his arms drop to his side, giving her every chance to make a run for it. As if answering his thought, she fingered his jeans, her long lashes painting shadows on her cheeks. He could feel her hands shake while she pushed his jeans and briefs down his legs.

He rid himself of both items, and then took his time to shrug out of his shirt while she watched his movements like a cat afraid her mouse would disappear.

He bent to bury his face against her breasts, hiking up her skirt until it crunched around her hips. Tasting the flushed texture of a hard nipple, he drew a soft moan from her as he sucked gently.

When she closed her fingers around him, he groaned, feeling himself thicken against her palm. He wanted to thrust into her until she cried out his name. Her fingers closed around his and guided him between her legs.

"Touch me," she said, guiding his hand over her folds. Slick wetness met his inquiring fingers. She was as ready for him as he was for her, but he wanted to draw out the pleasure.

He dropped to his knees, taking in the scent of her arousal. When he touched his tongue to her center, she tunneled her fingers through his hair. He again licked over her, hearing her moan her longing. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. He cupped her butt in both hands, kneading her flesh and tilting her hips toward him.

He groaned thinking how he would soon be thrusting into her. But first, he kissed her, down there, plunging his tongue deep between her swollen lips. Swearing softly, she dug her fingers into his shoulder muscles. He welcomed the pain, welcomed any proof she was enjoying herself as much as he was.

He paused, hearing the clicking steps from a high-heeled woman walking past the apartment door. Liz relaxed her grip on his shoulders, but her muscles flexed as if she made herself ready to flee.

He feared he'd hear a key in the lock, but the steps faded into the distance and were gone a second later.

Relieved, he drew in a deep breath. What the fuck was he doing? He was buck naked. If the woman had come into the apartment they wouldn't have had enough time to dress and leave through the window. His gaze found his clothes, the gun somewhere in the pile, the small book in the inside pocket of his jacket.