Janelle Denison - Wild for Him

"I need a condom," he said, and started to reach toward the nightstand, where she kept a supply.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could pull the drawer open and retrieve one of the foil packets. "Not tonight."

He pulled back and stared down at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm on the pill," she said, and bit on her lower lip with a bit of uncertainty, and a whole lot of vulnerability that told Ben just how much she trusted him. "I know that using a condom is the safe way to go, but I'm good healthwise."

"Me, too," he said, and moved back to the spot between her legs, his gaze taking in the way she was laid out before him, his for the taking. "Are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "More sure than I've been about anything in a very long time. I want to feel you inside of me, all of you, without a condom to take away any of the sensation."

The thought of having all that wet heat wrapped around his cock, with absolutely nothing between them, made him shudder with anticipation, lust, and desire. Crawling up and over her body, he pushed her thighs farther apart as his hips nestled intimately against hers, and the tip of his shaft probed at her damp entrance.

When she realized what he intended, she splayed a hand on his chest to keep him from making that final downward thrust into her. "What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes wide.

He smiled. "I'm making love to you." The words slipped out of him without censor, but they felt more right than wrong.

She appeared startled for a moment because they'd always referred to what was between them as sex , but then she quickly recovered. "No missionary position, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." He dropped a kiss on her nose, then took both of her hands, entwined their fingers, and pinned them next to her head so she couldn't use them at all. So that she'd have no choice but to just feel. "But sometimes, the missionary position can be good," he murmured huskily. " Very good."

Her lashes fell to half-mast, and her body softened beneath his. "Show me," she whispered.

He lowered himself completely over her, aligning them from chest to thighs. His jaw tensed as he slowly slid inside of her, then leisurely pulled out again, until just the head of his penis filled her. He entered her once more, this time all the way to the base of his shaft, and moaned as the slick friction dragging along his bare cock provided the most exquisite sensation-one that threatened to make him come way too quickly if he wasn't careful.

He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his breath dampening her skin, and for the longest time he didn't move, enjoying the warmth surrounding him.

She squirmed restlessly, impatiently, beneath him, a silent plea for him to move.

"Wrap your legs around my waist. Christy," he rasped into her ear.

She did as he asked, and he groaned when he felt her soft, slender thighs hugging his hips. The intimate position lifted her pelvis higher, allowed for a deeper penetration that made her gasp. He tried to savor everything about being inside of her this way, but the temptation was just too great, and when she arched beneath him so that he rubbed against her clitoris, which heightened her pleasure, he couldn't stop the instinctive need to push harder, deeper. He eased back, almost to the point of withdrawal, then tunneled his way back inside with a purposeful stroke.

Their rhythm was slow at first, and he concentrated on the scent of her hair, the heated vanilla fragrance still clinging to her skin, the feel of her fingers curling tight against his. Anything but the building, pulsing pressure in his groin.

Hungry for the taste of her, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with aggression and greed. God, she was so sweet, he thought. So beautiful, and generous, and responsive. He rolled his hips hard against hers, then plunged faster, then faster still, until she was moaning beneath the crush of his lips and he knew she was close to climaxing.

He lifted his head, and as he continued to drive into her tight, moist flesh, he watched her. Pleasure suffused her expression and she looked up at him through passion-glazed eyes, her lips pink and swollen from his kisses. She sucked in a breath, and her eyes rolled back as her orgasm began rippling through her, the feel of her tensing and fluttering around his cock more than enough to finally push him over the edge.

With a hoarse shout, he came inside of her in a blinding rush of heat that sizzled along his nerve endings. His body shook as his orgasm peaked and then subsided. When it was over, he dropped his head to her shoulder, unable to discount the overwhelming sense of completion washing over him.

"That was good," she said on a breathy sigh. " Very good."

Smiling, he turned his head, and pressed his lips to her hair, her cheek, then kissed her slow and deep. He wanted to hold onto this moment, and her, forever… but knew, and accepted, that it wasn't meant to be.

CHRISTINE was roused from a deep sleep by the violent twitching of Ben's body next to hers, and the awful, guttural sounds coming from the back of his throat. Momentarily confused, she came up on her arm and stared down at him, and when he jerked again and cried out in his sleep, she knew he was in the throes of some kind of nightmare.

She touched his bare chest and found it damp with perspiration. Feeling his heart racing beneath her palm, she gave him a gentle shake. "Ben, wake up," she said, trying not to jostle him too badly.

He awoke with a start, anyway. Eyes wild with terror, he bolted upright in bed, his breathing ragged. His entire body was tense and his fists clenched at his sides, as if he was ready to confront some unknown evil.

She stroked a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly.

It took him a moment to realize where he was, and then he raked a hand through his tousled hair and exhaled a harsh stream of breath. "It was a bad dream. It happens sometimes." He shook his head, as if that gesture would dispel the internal demons still lingering in his mind.

He was trying to remain calm and casual about the entire situation, but she instinctively knew what the dream had been about-something that had happened in the wan most likely pertaining to his fiancée, Kim. And Christine was more than willing to listen if Ben needed to vent and get those bad memories out in the open, instead of keeping them bottled up inside where they could only fester and breed horrific nightmares.

It was nearly seven in the morning on Sunday, almost time for them to get up anyway. "Do you want to talk about it?"

His expression turned grim. "Trust me, those nightmares are something I have to live with, but the details of those dreams aren't something you want to hear about."

"How do you know that?" She wasn't a weak and fragile female who couldn't withstand to hear a few harrowing stones.

"Because the details are shocking, ugly, and vile," he said, an angry, bitter edge to his voice. "And worst of all, what I dream about is real and something I had to live through and will never, ever forget, no matter how hard I try. There's no sense dragging someone else into my own personal hell."

There was so much pain and heartache in his gaze, and it hurt her to see him hurting so much. He was doing his best to push her away emotionally, and she just wasn't going to let him shut her out that way. Hopefully, if he talked about those awful memories, maybe he could begin to heal inside and those nightmares would finally leave him alone.

"What happened to your fiancée. Ben?" she asked softly, persistently.

Sighing heavily, he lay back down on the pillow and draped his arm over his eyes. "Let it go, Christine."

He sounded tired and weary-no doubt tired of carrying so many painful burdens and weary from years of holding it all inside.