I grinned to myself at the outraged tone in his voice. For some reason, it warmed me to the tips of my toes when he used my full name. Not even my mother did that. “In person or on videos?”
“Both.”
None and I’m not telling. You can just assume that I’ve seen porn, okay? And stop being outraged, because I’m sure you’ve seen it as well. Aha! See? I knew you have.
There are times when I regret the ability for a Beloved to share Dark Ones’ thoughts, he muttered darkly.
Ha. You love it and you know it. Now lie down. You had your turn. I want to look at you. And . . . er . . . touch you.
He hrmphed again in my mind, but lay back down. “I’m not circumcised. That is the difference.”
“Ooh, okay.” I looked down at his penis again, trying to assess it.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Assessing. I think I want to . . . um . . .” I gestured toward the object in question.
A little smile curled his lips. “Do you at all see the irony in the fact that you are unable to say common phrases despite conducting the act itself?”
“It’s not a matter of irony at all,” I told him, sliding down and pushing his legs open. I settled between his knees, eyeing his penis. “It’s not just curse words that have power, you know, and I try to avoid the ones that might get me into trouble. I’m sorry if that sounds prissy or wimpy, but it’s how I am.”
It’s not prissy or wimpy at all. I find it charming that language means so much to you. Does it offend you if I use words like “cock”?
I thought about it for a moment, reaching out to gently touch his thickening penis. No. I did a paper once for an English class on the etymology of various profanities, and I know that word and others have a long history to them. Since you do, too, it doesn’t bother me how you speak. Well, except the accent. I would hate it if you ever lost your accent.
One eyebrow rose. I have an accent? I thought my English was perfect.
It is perfect, but you have a little bit of an accent. It’s very sexy. Kind of a cross between English and Czech, I guess, since you’re from there. It makes me feel . . . warm.
He was about to answer me, but I tipped my head at that moment, and took him into my mouth.
“Well, this is different,” I said a moment later as I tried to analyze the taste and feel of him on my tongue.
Flurg.
“What?”
Flurg. I said flurg. Do that again.
I swirled my tongue along the very tip of him.
His hips bucked. “Flurg!”
“I take it by the fact that Mr. Floppy is gaining in stature that you’re going to be willing to give this another try.”
“Francesca,” Ben said sternly, but his lips twitched as I blinked innocently at him. “I am selfishly grateful that you have not had experience with other men to know this, but there is one term you never, ever use to your lover, and ‘Mr. Floppy’ is that term.”
I looked at his penis. He was not unduly large, not walk funny for a week large, but judging by my rough estimation, he had Finnvid beat. “I’m sorry,” I told his penis. “I will never again refer to you as Mr. Floppy, Mr. Overly Anticipatory, or even Mr. Leave Fran Wondering What All the Fuss Is About—”
“That impertinence, Beloved, is not something I am going to stand for.” Ben was suddenly looming over me, the sheets of the bed cool beneath my back as he nipped my hip.
“I knew you were bossy, but I never knew you were this bossy. Oh merciful goddess! Are you going to . . . You are! Oral sex! I’ve been dying to try—” My eyes opened wide, almost crossing at the sensation of his hot breath on intimate parts of me that had not previously entertained anyone, my hands clutching at the sheets as my hips rose.
“You have to tell me what you like,” Ben said somewhat indistinctly as he nipped the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
“That! I like that!”
“So the swirl gets a thumbs-up. And what about this?”
“Oh, it’s good, too,” I moaned as my hips moved in a restless rhythm in response to the dance his fingers were doing.
“Hmm. Does this do anything for you?”
I tightened my legs around his head when his fingers sank into me as his tongue swirled across aroused flesh. “Flurg!”
He smiled into my mind. I thought that might give you pleasure.
Everything you do gives me pleasure, Ben, but please, please, finish it! I feel like I’m about to explode into a million bits of sexual ecstasy.
If you feel like that now, wait until I really get going, he promised, sliding up my body, bringing my legs with him until they rested on his arms.
“Um, Ben. This is . . . I mean, I’m kind of exposed,” I said, feeling both vulnerable and yet at the same time desperate to have him where I wanted him most.
“Yes, I know. You’re at my mercy. Like the feeling?”
“Imogen told me that you were naturally dominant. I didn’t understand quite why she said that, but I guess now I know what she—Ben!”
He leaned forward to capture my gasp as he slid into my body with a movement that left me breathless.
It’s a good thing I’m double-jointed, or I don’t think this would be at all comfortable, I said, mentally moaning at the sensation of him moving within me. The difference between you and my toys is . . . well, indescribable!
“I begin to think I’m doing this wrong,” he said, releasing my lower lip from where he had been sucking on it. His hips flexed, and this time my eyes did cross as he released my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and arched up against him.
I scraped my nails down his spine, enjoying the sensations he was mentally feeding me. I could feel his arousal building, which just fired mine to new heights. “I can’t imagine that what you’re doing is anything but absolutely perfect. Particularly that.”
He gave another hard little thrust that had me digging my fingers into the thick muscles of his behind, trying to pull him in deeper. “If I was doing it correctly, you shouldn’t be able to talk at all, let alone think.”
I started to laugh. I couldn’t help myself, it was just so funny that in the middle of all that thrusting and heaving and wet, slick noises that were slightly embarrassing since I knew they had their source with me, in all of the passion that wrapped us in its fire, he thought he wasn’t doing it right.
I kissed him, savoring both the taste and feel of him as our bodies moved together in a rhythm that seemed wholly unique to us. I wanted to say something profound, something that would tell him what this moment meant to me, but all that came out was a plea. Feed from me, Ben. I can feel your hunger. I’m offering my blood willingly. I want you to take it from me.
His mouth moved to my neck and down to my shoulder, trailing burning kisses in its wake. I had spoken the truth—the desire to feed swamped him, filling his mind with a need that claimed me as well.
He licked a spot on my shoulder, his teeth scraping as he fought a war between need and self-control. I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t resist any more of the sensations of pleasure he was pouring into my mind. My body tightened around him as I was sent spiraling into a moment of pure, unadulterated rapture. Ben groaned, arching back to yell something in a language I didn’t understand, his hips making a couple of short, fast thrusts before he collapsed down onto me.
I welcomed the weight of him, my breathing as ragged and rough as his. I held him tight as our hearts beat wildly, slowly calming until some minutes later, when Ben roused himself with a murmur about crushing me.
“Not in the least,” I told him as he rolled over onto his back, pulling me flush against his side. I was glad he did—I felt as boneless as a newborn baby.
Ben suddenly cracked an eye open. “Are you taking some sort of—”
“Yes,” I answered, reading the question he was about to ask.
“Good. Not that I wouldn’t have taken care of you if you weren’t, but it’s just easier this way. I assume you do not wish to have children yet.”
“Not yet, no.”
“I find it interesting that you are not seeing any men, did not wish to see me, and yet you are utilizing birth control.”
“Are you implying I expected to have sex with you?” I asked, wanting to be annoyed, but as I’ve mentioned before, Inner Fran doesn’t let me lie to myself very often.
He closed his eye again, his arm tightening around me until I was lying halfway on his body. “I would never presume anything so clearly out of the bounds of possibility.”
I giggled into his damp chest, wanting to say something, but hesitant to ruin the lovely postcoital afterglow. “I’m sorry, Ben,” I finally said.
“You’re sorry you ever doubted I could bring you more pleasure than your toys?” he asked, his eyes still closed, but his fingers making lazy circles on my behind.
“No. Well, yes, although I think we both know that was never really in doubt.” I snuggled into him, cherishing the sensations of my body plastered against his.
His eyes opened again. They held a certain sated look that made me feel extremely smug. Just let Naomi try to bring that look to his eyes, I thought cattily to myself.
“What is it? Why do you look so pleased with yourself, but there is apology in your mind? Did you wish to Join now?”
“No. I enjoyed this. I still am enjoying it. I think it brings our relationship to a new level of intimacy, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to sign away my life to you. I think we need to explore what it means to be us more, before either of us makes a decision.”
He just looked at me, his eyes lightening as I spoke.
“What I meant is that I’m sorry that I asked you to feed off of me. It wasn’t very nice of me to try to tempt you when you explained why you didn’t want to take what I offered.”
He sighed, a gesture that came from the depths of his being. “Francesca, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to conduct all the steps of Joining with you, including feeding from you. But you yourself set bounds, and I am trying to keep within them as best I can, and do my duty by David.”