The New Rule: (The Casual Rule 2) (7 page)

“I don’t know why I invited him in. You annihilated my heart. He was nice to me. You want an answer… here’s my answer, you idiot. I. Don’t. Know. I don’t know what might have happened. That’s my answer.”

“I don’t want him here anymore.”

“Why? Nothing happened. In fact, you showed up a few hours later, drunk out of your mind.”

“He wants you.”

“You don’t get to dictate who I see.”

“Jesus, Julia, are you blind? The guy had you undressed and was giving it to you hard in his head.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like the way your old bang buddy, Camille, looks at you. And may I remind you, you
screwed
her. Yet she still hangs around you every chance she gets.”

“She’s my sister’s best friend.”

“That’s Elizabitch’s problem. Let her hang all over her. She would cut off her right arm to have you back in her bed.”

“What did you just call my sister?”

Shit, in the heat of the moment, I let the secret nickname I bestowed upon his sister slip. “Elizabeth. That’s her name, isn’t it?”

He inhales deeply, then breathes out. “I have no interest in Camille.”

 That was a close one.

“I have no interest in Pierce and if I want to see him again, you can be damned sure I fucking will.”

“I will not allow you to go out with someone whose only plan is to fuck you.”

“Not allow me? Do you think you have some sort of ownership over me? Because if you do… you are sorely mistaken.”

He clenches his teeth, his gaze darkens. “Go to your bedroom.”

Is he out of his mind? What am I five-years-old and he’s punishing me?

I cross my arms, shaking my head.

“I said get in your fucking bedroom and strip off every last piece of clothing,” he growls.

“No.”

“This is not a request.”

“You’re ordering me to get naked in my bedroom?”

I know I shouldn’t feel this way but—Holy fuck. All the parts of me that should be closing down for business have flashing neon lights that say “Open 24 Hours.” Jealous Ben is infuriatingly hot and I’m a tingling mess between my legs
.

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” Lifting me up, he slings me over his shoulder. He grabs the cupcake on the edge of the table and carries me into my bedroom.

“Put me down, you jackass.” I smack his ass. He smacks mine back.

Sweet Lord have Mercy, there’s something so wrong about this—and I’m all in. The rational side of my brain knows he’s a colossal possessive idiot right now. But the irrational side is so turned on, all I want to do is lay there and let him go to town on me.

No, no... I have to fight this; my lust-driven libido is clouding sanity. I must be strong and prove a point. His chest-beating caveman antics aren’t the way to solve a disagreement. He unceremoniously drops me on the bed; I look up at him, narrowing my eyes and scowl.

God, that jealous bastard looks so hot right now.

“I hate you,” I growl.

“I don’t care,” he growls back, glaring down at me with a fire in his eyes as he unbuttons his shirt and drops it on the floor.

I gaze up at him: his jaw is clenched tight, his nostrils flaring; then I stop at his crotch. Good god, he’s such a man.

“Oh. My. God. You’re aroused! We’re fighting and you’re getting a hard-on? Are you fucking kidding me?”

His gaze meets mine with a burning intensity. Hate? Lust? It doesn’t matter which. Sometimes they feel the same.

“Don’t fool yourself. You want this as much as I do.”

“I don’t want you.”

“Yes, you do and it’s killing you because you can’t fight it as much as I can’t when you’re yelling at me, looking… well, the way you look.”

“How do I look?”

“Like someone who needs to be fucked. Hard. Before dinner, I planned to make love to you tonight because I love you.”

“And now?”

“Now I just want to fuck you… because I fucking love you.”

I stare at him, my mouth gaping. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”
And in a warped way, one of the sweetest.

Holy fuck, he is going to get it so good tonight.

“I’m not a vessel for you to work out your irrational jealousy,” I insist, not so convincingly. Deep down, I know I crave his touch more than I want him to stop.

He cocks his head and stares at me as calm washes over him. He saunters to the edge of the bed with a smirk. I don’t trust that smirk. What’s his game?

“You just want to be inside me to prove something to your inflated male ego. I have no clue what,” I say, a little confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

He kneels down on the bed, crawling over me, his smoldering dark eyes staring directly into mine.

“Yes, I want to be inside you. I want to be inside your head, so I know you think of me, the way I think of you. I want to be inside your heart, so I know you’ll always love me. And yes… I want to be deep inside you. I need to be close to you, to feel you, worship every fucking inch of you and your stubbornness because, despite that fact that you drive me crazy, I’ve never been so…” He pauses, snapping his fingers in the air like he’s searching for the right word. “Happy. I want to show you how much I love you.”

How the hell am I supposed to stay mad at him when he says things like that?

He leans in close to me, nuzzling my neck, kissing right behind my ear.

“Don’t go turning on the Martin charm. I’m mad at you,” I warn. I tilt my head to the side of the pillow allowing him easier access to my neck, surrendering to the exquisite feel of his soft lips brushing against my skin. It’s a battle between my longing for his touch and my despising him. There’s little doubt who’ll be the victor.

“Why?” he mutters, nibbling from my neck to my earlobe, gliding the tip of his tongue along the edge of my ear.

I frown; the ache between my legs has temporarily suppressed my memory. “I don’t remember. But I know I hate you right now.”

I’ve come down with a case of sex-induced dementia—Sexmentia.

“No you don’t,” he says smoothly, kissing down the side of my neck.

I close my eyes and moan. “Yes, I do.” I exhale a long breath. “I hate you.”

Even I don’t believe me.

“No, you don’t. You can’t resist me. Ask for it nicely and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You want it… Ask for it.”

How the hell did he manage to turn this around?

“You can’t be serious.”

He leans on his side and grinds his groin against my thigh. His rock-hard erection is straining through his jeans. Slowly, he glides a fingertip around the curve of my shoulder and down the length of my arm making small circles on my skin. Goosebumps prickle up and down my arm at his touch. I melt into the bed, inhale deeply, taking in his Benessence, and I know I’m a goner.

“I’m very serious,” he murmurs seductively, the hum of his voice vibrating straight to my sex.

“Please,” I whisper faintly. My need for him is beyond my control. I knew it—and so did he.

I hate the cocky bastard.

“Please what?” he taunts.

“Please make love to me.”
I’m weak. I’m weak. I’m weak.

“You want me to undress you?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“You want me buried deep inside you until you scream?”

“Yes,” I breathe, closing my eyes.

“You want to come, over and over again.” I don’t have to see him to know he’s smiling.

I crack one eye open and look at him. “Cut the crap, Ben.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” he teases.

“Fuck you.”

He frowns, but there’s a hint of humor hidden behind it. “Don’t you mean ‘Fuck me’?”

“Yes,” I sigh, exasperated. “Just fuck me, you smug bastard.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” He cocks his head and smirks.

“I still hate you.”

“Julia, right now… I don’t care.” He grabs the bottom of my sundress and pulls it over my head. I tremble as his fingertips skim across my skin. “Grab the cupcake on the nightstand,” he instructs.

“Hungry?” I ask, turning over to grab it. While I’m still on my side, Ben quickly unhooks my bra. The man has skills.

“Very,” he answers darkly. “Just lay back, Julia. It’s time for dessert. We’re not done until I lick every last crumb off you.” He slips my bra off quickly as I lay back down with the cupcake in my hand.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He gazes at my body appreciatively. His eyes are dark and hooded as he licks his bottom lip. The anticipation is killing me. I swallow hard, squirming and clenching my thighs together in effort to relieve this pent-up ache for him.

It’s not working.

He snatches the cupcake from my hand and dips his finger in the buttercream frosting. Teasing me by waving the icing in front of my lips, he puts his finger in his mouth and sucks it.

“Mmm, decadent and sweet.” He looks me up and down with a gaze so salacious, it makes me blush. “I see something else I know is decadent and sweet.” He dips his finger again in the icing and circles it around my nipple.

Leaning down, he takes my nipple in his mouth and sucks it, swirling his tongue around it then licks the icing off. I moan softly at his touch.

“You know what they say… I licked this. That makes it mine.”

He dips his finger in the frosting again and decorates my other nipple. He looks quite pleased with himself, admiring his artwork. Then leans down and with a few long luscious strokes, he licks it clean. “Mine.”

I suck in a panting breath, watching him take a fingertip full of icing and swirl it around my navel. His tongue tickles my oversensitive skin as he savors me and the icing with each sensual stroke. He dips his tongue in my navel. My fingers curl in causing my nails to dig into my palms. “Mine,” he whispers.

I don’t know who the hell this possessive Alpha-Asshole Frosting-Licker is… but I sure as hell hope he comes back often.

He continues painting my body with frosting then licking it clean. I wriggle and squirm every time I feel his warm breath on my skin, each time I feel his velvety tongue glide effortlessly across it.

 I’m going to orgasm any minute. He’s either going to succumb to a massive sugar rush… or fall into a diabetic coma if he doesn’t stop this sugary assault soon.

He hooks a finger around the side of my panties and slides them off. Finally, he’s positioned himself between my legs. He paints the frosting on my inner thighs, licks it, over and over and fucking over again. The combination of the friction of his coarse stubble rubbing against my skin and the silky feel of his warm wet tongue makes me quiver.

“There’s one last place I need to lick,” he murmurs. He works his way to my dripping wet center. I wriggle at first then relax and sink into the mattress, surrendering to all the sensations. He teases the opening of my swollen folds oh-so-lightly with the very tip of his tongue before flicking his tongue powerfully on my clit then softly. Holy fuck.

“You taste exquisite, like sugar and sex.”

I groan, my hips instinctively rise up to meet his mouth.

“And only I get to taste you.”

I inhale a deep breath and hold it. I’m two seconds away from losing it completely.

He senses it, stops and shakes his head. “No, no, no. You don’t come until I let you.”

Motherfucker.

He’s enjoying my frustration, and in some twisted way, I am too. I exhale and grab hold of the sheet before my palms start bleeding from my nails digging into them.

“Ben,” I breathe. It’s a plea. I need a release. I think he’s trying to kill me.

He looks up at me from between my legs with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He looks back down and sucks my clit, swirling his tongue in circles until I quiver. A few long delicious strokes are all it takes to bring me to the edge.

I groan in pleasure or maybe it’s relief. I’m not sure.

“Oh, oh,” I cry as a wave of sinful bliss washes over me. “Thank God.”

I surrender to this feeling, his mouth expertly bringing me to a place only he can. Ripple after glorious ripple of pure pleasure washes over me.

He trails feather-light kisses up my body. I want to swallow him whole.

Ben quickly takes off his jeans and boxers then climbs on top of me, spreading my legs wide with his. I wrap my legs tightly around him, flesh on flesh. Perfect.

He kisses me fiercely, his tongue warm and silky claiming me with a long, hungry, drugging kiss. He’s right; I do taste of sugar and sex. My love of cupcakes has risen to a whole new level.

“Is this what you want?” He thrusts deep inside me, stretching me, filling me with one swift motion, never breaking eye contact.

“Yes.” My breaths are shallow and fast.

“From who?” He plunges hard inside me, my back arches up meeting his thrusts. I want all of him, every hard luscious inch.

“You,” I pant. “Only you.”

“Damn right, only me.”

I pull my knees up, as he rotates his hips slightly and slams inside me. We never break eye contact as he thrusts deep inside me over and over and holy fuck over. My headboard is banging hard against the wall.

He reaches beneath me and grabs my ass, squeezing it hard. “You have a fucking perfect ass and it belongs to me,” he growls.

He owns me and he wants me to know it. I already knew, but if he needs to take me like this to prove something to me… or himself, I’m in.

Possessive-jackass Ben is dirty and rough. And dammit, I’m loving it.

He has an incredible amount of restraint tonight as he rides me harder and harder, faster, rougher, tilting his hips to hit me at the exact spot he knows will spiral me into a frenzy. My muscles spasm violently, I can’t hold back and I can see in his eyes, he knows.

“When you come, you’re going to look me in the eyes and remember who brought you there,” he growls, thrusting hard again. “Give it to me, Julia. Give it to me.”

I tilt my head to the side, looking towards the wall and catch a glimpse of Ben’s shadow fucking mine. Holy shit, we’re sexy. I look back at him, our gazes meet. I’m lost in him again. It’s intense and it’s all it takes for me to let go again.