On Sale for Christmas (7 page)

I couldn't say that. I
wanted
to say that. But…

"I can't."

"That's ok, because I paid for you to get me off. Not you."

I swallowed back the humiliation, suddenly as pissed off as I was turned on. More determined now to just get him off and be done with it. But he held off, which ensured that it really did feel like work. I bounced up and down milking him, until finally he grabbed me hard by the hips and let out a bellow of pleasure.

I got to see his face tighten at the same time I felt him twitch with release, flooding the rubber inside me. Gripping me like a sex toy until he was done. It was a few minutes before we could both catch our breath, but when we did, he said, "Thanks. Worth every penny."

I smiled, not knowing what else to say. I wasn't exactly up on my prostitution etiquette. Was I supposed to compliment him or something? I shyly rolled off him, slipping under the sheets of the bed.

Meanwhile, he sat up and reached for his wallet. "Here's a little extra for the cock-sucking," he said, dropping another bill on the bedside table.

Then, he got up and dressed and left without another word.

When Ben came back into the room, I was all but hiding beneath the sheet, wearing nothing but lace thigh high stockings.

He looked edgy, a little pale as he sat at the end of the bed. "You okay?"

I was not okay. I was…indescribable. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I was ashamed. I was aroused. Mostly that. I'd been fucked perfunctorily, which is just what I wanted. I'd been treated like a toy. A commodity. A little fucking whore. And I wish I knew what was in my wiring that made me love it so goddamned much.

But that was the psychological pleasure. The deep-seated fantasy, the reality of which now announced itself on the bedside table in two crisp bills. My body was still screaming for satisfaction. Trembling with it, actually. "I'm okay. Just really turned on…"

I wasn't sure what I was going to see in Ben's eyes. In spite of the fact that he'd engineered this, I expected to see disgust or judgement. Instead I saw relief. "You're okay…" He breathed out a long breath. "I felt like a caged lion over there, pacing in front of the door, listening."

"Could you hear—"

"Everything. The bed thumping the wall. Everything. Yeah."

I swallowed. "Did it freak you out?"

Ben's eyes slid away again and my stomach did a somersault. I was pretty sure that this was where everything about this night was going to go really badly. So I braced myself.

Ben swallowed, and flattened his palms on his knees. "Don't think this is weird, okay? But it actually excited me a lot. I dunno if it was the adrenaline of being jealous, or the fear I was going to have to bust things up, or the knowledge that you were actually
doing
it. But I'm kind of going out of my mind right now with wanting to take you and…I dunno. Plant my flag. I want to make you mine so badly that I'm afraid to look at you for fear I'm going to just snap."

Thank God
. I almost melted into the sheets as a surge of some very strong and strange emotion flooded me. I hadn't realized, until just this moment, how much I needed Ben to be okay with all this. Even though possessive talk from guys usually sent me running for the hills, I felt more honestly
earned
than by any guy I'd ever been with. And the realization forced me to be way more honest than I might otherwise have been. "You can look at me, Ben. You can snap if you want to. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you and wishing you were there in the room the whole time."

He blew out another shaky breath and met my eyes. "Can I see?"

"You can do anything you want," I said, meaning it more than the words could convey. So I let him peel back the sheet from my body.

How strange it was that even though this was the first time he'd ever seen me completely undressed, I wasn't self-conscious. Everything in his body language said that he adored my breasts, my hips, my belly. No, it was the other things he'd seen in me that made me feel naked.

He touched me with only his fingertips, feathering them down over my nipples until I hissed with pleasure. Then he stroked my legs, and back up between to the nexus that throbbed for his touch.

"Spread your legs for me," he said.

If he'd been on top of me, it wouldn't have been hard to do. But I knew what he wanted to see, and it ached to separate my knees and show him my freshly fucked cunt. "Mmm. Becca. You're so pink, and wet, and engorged…do you want me to take a picture of what your pussy looks like after it's been bought, paid for, and used?"

I let out a helpless cry that wasn't an answer. Would I frame a picture like that or delete it? I
couldn't
have answered him. My entire body felt like it was on fire—from shame or arousal or both, it didn't matter. More than a little terror too. I couldn't even guess what he might think of me right now.

I only knew that he'd done this to me—
for
me—and I wanted him more than I'd wanted anything. Every bit of attraction I'd felt for the guy who had already come and gone was now wrapped up in Ben. More than wrapped up in him. It was all
about
him.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, using his thumb to smear some of the stickiness over my clit, which elicited a moan and a jerk of my hips against his hand. "Did it?"

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut because I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to answer questions. I just wanted to come and come and come. But he kept me hovering there on the edge. "Did you want it to hurt?"

I gasped. "A little…"

His touch became rougher. "I think I'm figuring out this kink…"

"No more talking," I whispered, gripping the sheets, undulating under his hands. Then reached for his belt buckle, unclasping it, and yanking it free with a snap. Emboldened, I went next for his zipper. "Because I need to come. I
need
to. I know you wanted to wait until after we did this, but it's after! I want you. Enough to beg, even. Please?"

"Should I count the years I've been waiting to hear that?"

"No counting, either!"

A slow and sexy smile brightened his expression. Then he reached for my cheek and brought his lips near. "Keep my mouth occupied then…"

He kissed me. An amazing kiss for the way it melded white hot lust with some more tender emotion. I helped him pull off his sweater and tee, dying a little at his muscular arms, and the tattoo on his bicep that I hadn't noticed before. I stroked it, loving the way goosebumps rose on his skin at my touch.

He stripped off the rest of his clothes, then leaned back so I had ample room to see his gorgeous member spring free. Jutting up, it was thick, long, beautiful. Uncut. Different than the one I'd already serviced tonight, but just as riveting.

I couldn't resist stroking the foreskin up and down the shaft and watching the little bubbles of lubricant reward my efforts.
God
, the things I wanted to do to him!

For a moment, I couldn't decide which I wanted more—to take it in my mouth, or to have him inside me. But in the end, my greedy body won out. I rolled a condom down onto him and leaned back in eager invitation.

Ben crawled over me, stooping to nip at the inside of my arm, all the way from my elbow to my shoulder. Each graze of his teeth was like an electric jolt through my body and I moved shamelessly, rubbing against him, using the lace of the thigh highs to tease and tickle. But just as he had himself positioned between my wide-spread legs, he stopped and said, "I don't think you were totally honest with me before."

I put a finger to his lips. "Please…shhhhh…just…just fuck me."

With a sparkle in his eye, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the headboard. "Not until you admit it."

"You're torturing me. I'll admit anything!"

He chuckled. "Admit the real reason you needed me to make this fantasy come true for you." The head of his cock nestled between my nether lips, the sensation of making me quiver. "Becca, you needed me to pimp you out. That's part of the kink, isn't it?"

"I don't know!" I cried.

Or maybe I said something else. I was incoherent with desire. I put my arm around his neck and tried to draw him down into me, but he was too strong. Holding me still, he bit the hollow at my throat and whispered, "Because you needed someone to
know
. You needed someone to know what you did to make it real."

"Yes," I cried, a little sob that started in my throat but made my whole body shudder. "Or else I could pretend it never happened."

"Oh, it
happened
," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "And this is happening too…"

Then he pushed himself inside me.

I was so raw from screwing another guy that it ached. But I didn't care. I lifted my hips, arching to meet him, sighing happily as he filled me all the way up. That's what I needed. I needed Ben inside me. His hard body against my soft one.

He felt so good. Not just because of the twisted naughtiness of it, but something else, too.

It almost felt like it was the first time.

Like, ever.

Which was pretty strange considering what I'd just done.

Ben gave it to me slow at first, adjusting to me as I adjusted to him. He was staring into my eyes, and I was staring into his, stroking his cheek with the hand he didn't have pinned down. Delighting in the fact that he always seemed to smell like a fucking Christmas tree.

I grinned at him and he grinned back.

"Becca," he said, his voice as steely as his cock. "You fucked a total stranger in this cheap hotel room, then he slapped his money down on the table and left. That all happened. You and I are the only ones who are ever going to know it, but—"

"You made it happen," I whispered.

"I sure did," he said, letting his nice guy exterior fall away. Slow strokes suddenly turned to hard, hammering thrusts. And he was destroying me.

I'd dismissed him out of hand. Not my type. Not kinky enough for me. But here he was, plowing me into a bed I'd just shared with another man, thrusting into me with strokes that made my breasts jiggle and the rest of my body weak.

He was hot and flushed, really putting his back into it, as if to make me forget there had ever
been
any other guy. I'd wanted to come so badly, but now I held it back because it felt so good that I never wanted it to end, and because…

"I need you to say it, Ben," I panted, desperately on the edge.

Hand stroking down the side of my body, he paused, and for the first time, he looked as if he'd lost mastery of the situation. "What do you need me to say?"

"Tell me what I am tonight…"

He growled in my ear. "You're amazing. Sexy as sin. A joy to fuck."

"No…no…I need to hear the word."

He was close now, too. I could feel him pulsing inside me, noticed the tightening of the cords in his neck, and the grip of his hand at my hip. If I weren't so desperate, it might've been comical to watch him struggle with it. But it seemed deadly serious when he found the strength to look me right in the eye. "Tonight you were my little fucking whore."

That was the word.

I came. Right then. So hard that stars danced beneath my eyelids and a scream tore itself from my throat. My insides collapsed in orgasm around him, throbbing and spasming as I got the relief I needed. My feet dug into his ass, trying to get him even further inside when I heard him roar his own release, a loud, sexy sound that devastated me as he gave himself over to complete abandon.

He was also kissing me and I tasted the salty sweat of his upper lip when he spent himself in me like I was an investment, and not the vulgar kind.

In a pleasure-dazed state, we kept touching each other long after the orgasm faded. Our legs tangled, our sweat-damp skin clinging with each touch. He traced his fingertips down my ears, over my cheeks, down my neck. And I kissed him. Softly. Along his jawline, down his neck, his chest, stroking his body.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, with a dreamy expression.

I was feeling a little dreamy myself. "I was thinking that Christmas just came early for me…and that this was the best first date I ever had."

He pulled me closer with a little laugh. "This isn't our first date; I don't have sex on the first date. Our first date was the Sweet Shack."

"That wasn't a date."

"You said this wasn't a date either," he said, twining his fingers with mine. "But it totally is."

It totally was.

"Well, you've proved me wrong about a lot of things…"

Ben's dreamy expression sobered. "How are you so fearless, Becca?"

"What do you mean?" I reached up to unwind the pony tail holder from my hair, then rested my head upon his bare shoulder.

He sighed. "Everything you do. Leaving town for the big city. Stage acting. Your sexuality—what you did tonight…Fucking. Fearless."

I snorted. "I was terrified!"

"You didn't show it. Meanwhile, I was going over every little detail in my head, thinking about everything that could go wrong, making back-up plans for my back-up plans. I was kind of a nervous wreck."

"But you didn't show it either, Ben. Good thing, too. Because I could have never gone through with any of this without you. I let you worry for me. If I was fearless, it was because you let me be. If you'd wavered, I'd have freaked. But you were thoughtful, organized, punctual and prepared—all those boring things I used to count against you." My insides melted a little more when I realized it. "Turns out, it's easier to take a leap from something rock-solid. And you were rock-solid for me, tonight."

He grinned. "I've got something else that's rock-solid for you."

I groaned, my hand instinctively drifting down his body. "You wanna do it again?" I asked, both impressed and alarmed at his recovery rate.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"Oh, it'll be trouble," I promised. "But let's do it somewhere else."

"Brothel chic is losing it's fascination for you already?"

"No, I just want to make one of
your
fantasies come true…"

~~~