BENCHED (39 page)

She starts taking her clothes off.

"Ana," I warn her. "The water is freezing."

"I checked the temperature. It's fifty-six degrees. I will only be in for a minute."

"I really don't think—"

My words die in my mouth as she casually tosses her hoodie on the blanket I've laid out, and then her jeans, and then her underwear. She takes it off as if she's alone, her movements so natural and comfortable that they somehow make my cock even harder at the sight of her naked body.

I trail after her, planning to dive in and rescue her, but she's true to her word.

She walks out until she's perhaps waist-deep in the water and ducks down, and then rises up with her hair soaked. She bobs in the waves just long enough that I'm about to go in after her before she walks back out, leaving tracks in the wet sand

Water shimmers on her naked body, and her waist-length hair sticks to her skin like snow on a mountain slope. With her mismatched eyes and the sea and sky behind her, she looks like some ocean goddess rising from the waves. I drink in the sight of every inch of her, from her delicate toes to the thick, honey-colored hair between her legs to her hard nipples to her soft lips and the way the bold look on her face contrasts with the blush on her skin.

She stands before me wet and naked and just now shivering and says, "Are we going to make love now?"

I start peeling off my clothes.

A
nastasia

W
hen Jason starts to disrobe
, I go to help him. I lift his shirt up first, and tremble when the backs of my fingers brush his skin. I gasp when I see him.

My heart pounds in my chest, for his beautiful body and for the threat someone will come walking over the hill and see us. We walked far down the beach, well away from anything, really. We are totally alone, the only sounds the waves and the cry of gulls and my own blood rushing in my ears as I undo his belt and let his shorts fall down around his ankles.

His boxers go down last. He's already hard.

Jason slips his arms around me. I love how vulnerable I feel, and how safe it makes me feel to be wrapped in his arms. I lean against him and savor our nudity, his soft skin against mine, his powerful chest expanding and contracting as he breathes.

Very gently, he tips my chin up with his fingers and kisses me. It's overwhelming when he leans over me, towering over me, and puts his hands on my ass, squeezing as I taste him. I squeeze him in return, and quiver at the feeling of his hard cock, throbbing against my stomach.

He kisses my neck and shoulders, sinks down, and takes my nipples in my mouth. When I try to go down onto the blanket with him, meaning to fall on my back and take him inside me, he stops me, holding me firmly around the waist.

Jason sinks to his knees in front of me. He keeps my legs together with his hands on my thighs and makes me stand. I look around, suddenly feeling intensely exposed, aware of all the open air around my nude body. Being naked changes in his presence, becomes exciting.

He nuzzles his chin between my legs and drags his tongue over my mound, tasting me. I gasp and shudder, stroking his head with both hands. When his tongue touches the most intimate places of my body, my nakedness becomes almost unbearable. I can feel the whole world through my skin.

I don't know how he expects me to stand up like this. My legs start to buckle as his tonguing of my clit grows more intense. My toes curl and my balance wavers, but he holds me up with rock-like strength, his arms unmovable.

He leans back and licks his lips.

"You're so fucking wet."

"I want you inside me."

He smiles a distant, almost vacant smile and sits on the blanket, then grabs my wrists and pulls me down. He catches me and eases me into his waist, and uses his hand to guide his cock between us, pressed against my stomach as I straddle him in his lap.

Jason leans back, and slowly lowers himself to lie on the blanket. I fall forward with my palms on his chest and stroke his skin. He gasps when I shift my weight a little and my lower lips slide along his shaft, and I groan at the feeling of the heat and thickness longing to enter me. When I sit up and look down at its girth, I can't stop thinking, he wants to put
that
in
me
.

I want it so much. My entire body aches for him. I feel hollow inside, ready to be filled, like there's an ache and only he can mend it by filling the gap inside me.

It's been long enough. I can't wait. I rise up on my knees and take hold of him, and stroke his shaft as I rub the head of his cock with my lips, wetting it. I'm so aroused it takes almost nothing to slick his shaft before I take him.

The nerves come back, and my legs lock up. I try to lower myself, but I can feel how big he's going to be, how he's going to open me like nothing ever has before. He holds my hips and steadies me, holding me in place as my legs start to tremble.

I relax just a little and close my eyes, and suck in a sharp breath. It hurts, just a little bit, a sweet sting. It's almost uncomfortable as his thickness spreads me open, but it feels so fucking
good
to have him in me. My legs shake harder and still he holds me, slowing my descent. I try to take him faster and he
makes
me go slower, makes me savor it.

From the look on his face, he's savoring it too.

My weight settles in his lap, and I sit up, my breath quickening. God, he's
huge
. I had no idea how full I would feel. I shake all over, just from sitting on him and having him in me.

His hands roam my body, and I find I like it when I move, so I start to ride him with my hips moving forward and back, his thickness shifting inside me. He slides his hands slide up my body and cup my breasts. He doesn't squeeze hard enough, so I grab his wrists and push into him, twisting his hands to tease my nipples.

Oh. My. God.

"You like it?"

"Yes," I pant.

"There's no one here. Moan. Moan for me, baby. Fucking scream. Let it go."

J
ason

I
am going
to lose control. There is no sight more beautiful. Her snow-pale skin glows in the moonlight, still dappled with ocean water. Every time she moves, little, cold, stinging flicks of water land on my thighs. How is she not freezing? Maybe she is. She's trembling, and her nipples are hard enough to cut glass. I lift my hands from her hips to touch them, feel their soft stiffness under my fingers.

Ana gasps and her stomach clenches, and the expression on her face is somewhere between ticklish and feels good. She gives me a sharp look, and I run my hands over her warm skin, marveling at the sight. I'm buried in her to the root, my cock throbbing like a newborn star between my legs.

As she leans on my chest, she bites her lip and starts to ride up and down. I can see my cock sliding out of her just a fraction before her furnace-hot sex swallows it again, and all I can do is pant and watch. She's so fucking wet, it's incredible. I grab her neck and pull her down roughly, tightening my stomach to lift her up. I have to taste her breasts.

Ana chokes back a soft cry as I take her nipple in my mouth and falls on me, cradling my head in her arms as we find a rhythm together.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't stand this. I shift and push her down, holding her against my chest, and thrust into her from below. I can't believe how soft and silky and warm her skin is, the way she shudders at the slightest touch, like my fingers are magic wands.

She whimpers and chokes back a noise again, rising a little from my chest. I loosen my grip and let her ride the way she wants, take my cock the way she wants. Every sensation is a surprise for her, and the shock and pleasure is written on her face. She's so worried about making noise, she grabs my finger and pulls it into her mouth and sucks, hard.

I pull my finger loose and cup her breasts, then grab her sides and push her down onto my cock so hard it hurts, but I don't care. I want to reach every inch inside her.

"Moan for me. Scream. Make some noise, Ana. Let me hear you."

A
na

A
fter so much forcing myself
quiet, I let out every sound that forms in my throat, every moan and cry, every whimper and blissful sigh.

Jason grabs me and rolls. I lock my legs around him as he mounts me, thrusting harder now. He gives me a questioning look.

"Does it hurt—?"

"Fuck me very hard. Now."

"As you command, Princess."

He drives into me, and I rake his back with my nails, nip at his neck, urge him on with my feet on his thighs as I grip him with mine. As he thrusts and grinds against me, my pleasure mounts, growing within me by the second, like a flower unfolding, flaming petals rising from its core to spread heat through my body. The water in my hair will boil; the droplets on my skin should sizzle.

He fucks like a god, and I feel like a goddess.

Jason thrusts into me hard and holds himself there, then does it again. The lust in his eyes is almost like anger, and somehow he is rough and gentle at the same time. I curl up against him as he presses me down and ride the sensation, my eyes pressed shut.

I try to hold back. I try to contain myself, but I cry out, loudly, until my throat burns as beautiful anguish consumes my body. The pleasure goes from trickling through my middle like the first melt of spring snow to a raging, boiling torrent that fills me until it radiates through my skin, sending me into sheer ecstasy.

He grunts and holds me close, and I can feel him throbbing, pulsing, oh my God. He's coming, I can feel it. His body is like iron, hard and tight and hot, the power in him almost frightening, but it's mine, mine, I made him do this. I take him into me, steal him, swallow him, draw us together. There is only one, only us.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," I cry out.

He doesn't. He grabs my hips as he rises up, and turns me over. I get on all fours and thrust back at him and he takes me again, eager and ready. God, it feels so good, so raw, the energy coursing through me tightening my muscles into wires. I fuck him as much as he fucks me, thrusting back against him so our bodies meet like the waves meeting the shore behind us.

I'm so loud my voice echoes. Jason moans, grunts, cries out. He goes still, and I use my hands and knees to push back against him, taking him hard. He pulls me with him as he falls back, and I ride him facing away, my fingers laced through his. I can fuck him harder this way, our bodies meeting furiously.

My second peak is harder than my first, and I fall against him. He locks his arms around me and thrusts up, deep inside as I arch against his back, and I can feel him coming again, the tightness of his belly under me, the groans in my ear.

He rolls over and I lie on my stomach. He's still inside me. His thrusts are slow, gentle, his cock still rock hard. How can he keep going? I can barely move, my legs like jelly, my arms limp. I let my cheek fall on the blankets and look at the ocean as his breath tickles my face, as he whispers pledges and promises in my ear and takes my hands, threads his fingers through mine.

It feels like he fucks me for hours this way, until I've lost all sense of time, of space, of my own name and who I am. My heart is like a shining star in my chest, too big to contain. When he grunts and finishes a third time inside me, he doesn't pull out but holds me, fills me, stays closer than close.

When I roll over and he lies on top of me and kisses me, I fall into a world of pure bliss, lazily stroking his sweaty body with my hands. I want to touch him everywhere and take my time to ensure there is not one spot I miss.

He kisses me over and over, our bodies entwined, until the sun begins to set. Only then do we sit up, together, and I fall against him.

The first tear burning down my cheek is soon joined by another, then another. I start to weep.

Jason gathers me up in his arms, walling me off from the world in his strength. I cling to him.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to stop," I whimper. "You win. I'll give up anything to be with you. If they try to take me, I won't go. I love you."

He tenses. "Ana."

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

He kisses me, hard.

"I'm fucking freezing. Can we go now?" he asks.

"I want more sex."

"After that if we go again, I really will run dry. We have more time. There will be lots more sex. Trust me."

I grin and stand up. Then I fall back down, and he catches me. I end up sitting on my butt to dress while Jason pulls on his clothes. When he offers me a hand and pulls me easily to my feet, I am steady enough to walk. He ends up balling up the blankets and carrying them with us.

Keeping my hands off him is nearly impossible. I suddenly feel free, liberated. I have to keep my feet on the ground or I'll float away.

The moon rides high by the time we get back in the car. I snuggle up against Jason right away and close my eyes, barely able to stay awake. I'm exhausted.

I don't want to sleep. I want to be awake every moment with him, but the motion of the car lulls me into a deep, dreamless sleep. Next I know, I'm waking up as we drive across the bridge, under the big lights. I sit up and yawn, and manage another five minutes of wakefulness before I doze off again.

When next we stop, it's at the house. He pulls the car in behind it.

I look at the poor stuffed shark.

"I can't take him. I can't sneak him back into my room."

Jason grins. "I'll keep him here. You'll see him soon enough. Can you come to my game tomorrow? It's a home game."

"Of course." I kiss his cheek. "Thank you. For everything."

"Love you, baby."

"I love you," I tell him again.

I remember I must put my hood up as he walks me home. It feels like I can fly up to my window. I have to calm myself before he boosts me over the fence. He waits until he sees me climb in the window before he waves and walks back.

I sit at the window and stare after him, sighing loudly with every breath. I slip out of my clothes and shake the sand out of my hair. That one would be difficult to explain.

Sitting on the bed, I ponder how I will deal with this. I have never successfully stood up to Mother before. She overrules me in everything, but this must end. Why must I suffer under some archaic rule? It's not the fourteenth century anymore. There is no reason I cannot marry anyone I want, or not marry anyone at all if I do not wish it.

She can understand, she must understand. If Thorlief tells me true, how can she let me suffer the same pain? If she tried so hard to prevent it, why would she inflict it? I know I can reason with her.

With Jason in my heart I can do anything.

I bathe quickly, avoiding anyone else, and return to my room with my hair still down. I put it in a simple ponytail to sleep and flop on the bed, utterly exhausted. I slept for hours in the car already, but my fatigue steals up on me like a pouncing cat.

I wake a few times in the night, but mostly sleep through. When I wake I feel full of possibility and excitement.

Rising, I dress for the day. The game will begin at three. I'll need to call Dee and plan for it. I could just continue the fiction that I am sick and use that to slip out unnoticed. Thorlief will surely help me.

It is him I expect when the knock comes at the door.

Instead, it is Bjorn. He walks in with two other guards, who stride into my room.