Chapter Twenty-one

Griffin

Ben looked good enough to eat when he opened the door in answer to my knock: fresh out of the shower, hair still damp, and with his shirt unbuttoned. How the hell had I ever let this man go? Cade was right. I was extremely lucky he hadn't found someone else during the period when I'd fallen prey to my own stupidity.

He laughed when the brown paper bag full of assorted Chinese dishes—most of them Ben's favorites rather than mine—got in the way when I tried to kiss him. I flung it at a nearby table, the door having the courtesy to shut itself while I pulled him into my arms and reacquainted myself with everything Ben. How he tasted. How he felt pressed against me. The sounds he made.

"Bed," he managed between frenzied kisses as I buried my nose in his neck and inhaled the scent of the familiar shower gel, Ben still using the same one from when we were together .

"Wall," I countered, pushing him up against it so he could witness first-hand how stable it was.

He laughed, but there was a tremor to it. Seeing him acting professionally at work made me even more pleased I could rid him of that rigid self-composure in a matter of seconds.

"Sofa?"

"Wall," I insisted again, capturing his lips once more and preventing any more words from escaping in the most enjoyable fashion. Showing I could multi-task with the best of them, I combined kissing him with slowly peeling him out of his clothes, Ben's bare skin silky-soft and hot to the touch.

"I only just got dressed." There was no heat in Ben's words, just a lazy amusement.

Yeah, I supposed it was quite funny that my willpower was so poor that I'd leaped on him within seconds of him opening the door. And we hadn't even been apart that long. Thirty-six hours at most. It had been a long thirty-six hours, though. A very long thirty-six hours. "Well," I said as I started work on the fastenings of his jeans, keen for them to go the same way his shirt had—the fabric already lying wrinkled on the carpet. "You could have saved yourself the bother."

"You'd have me answering the door naked?"

"Yeah." I didn't really know what I was saying, too focused on the wondrous sights being revealed as I succeeded in getting Ben's jeans unfastened and pulled them down his thighs to leave him clad in just a pair of white briefs, his cock already tenting the front.

"That would go down great at work. The Metropolitan police are always keen for their detectives to get caught exposing themselves. "

"I bet they are." Jeans satisfactorily dealt with, I shuffled forward on my knees to bury my nose in the crease of his groin, inhaling the musky scent of him.

He ran his fingers through my hair, the touch both comforting and arousing. "And there I was thinking you'd rather other people didn't see me naked."

The sentiment twisted something in my gut. Because how many men had seen Ben naked over the last three years? Single figures? More? I could dwell on it, or I could consign it to the past where it belonged. After all, I hadn't been celibate myself. Flynn was proof of that, and Ben hadn't lost his cool when he'd met him. So instead of saying anything cutting, I turned my head to press my lips against the fabric of his underwear. "I don't. Save all your nakedness for me." I pressed a kiss to the growing hardness of Ben's cock. "This is all mine." I pushed my hand between the wall and Ben's arse, grabbing a handful of it and squeezing. "And this too."

Ben's laugh was throaty. "You better do something with it then."

I didn't ask which one because I intended to put both to good use so it didn't matter. Ben squirmed as I mouthed his cock through the fabric, the grip I had on his arse ensuring he had no choice but to put up with the stimulation. Not that he had any objections if the groan that came from his lips was any indication. I peeled his underwear slowly down over his hipbones, pressing a kiss to every inch of the cock I revealed until I got to the base. A glance up Ben's torso found him with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. "Suck it," he demanded, his fingers flexing in my hair.

"Bed," I said to wind him up .

He laughed without opening his eyes. "I swear to God, Griff, that if you tease me any more, I'm going to come, anyway."

I mouthed his balls, a shudder running through Ben. "You're not going to come until I'm balls deep in you."

"You'd better hurry and make that happen then."

Not if hurrying meant I didn't get a taste of him. Thumbs pressing into the crease of his groin to hold him still, I slid my lips over him, his groan reverberating in my chest as our connection made me feel both parts, like I'd gained the ability to suck myself.

"It's got stronger," Ben said between pants as I took him deeper.

It had. I didn't know how, but there was no disputing it. And it wasn't like I'd ever really understood the necromancer bond and how it worked. I knew that not everyone was like Ben and me, that there were plenty of necromancers who, even with their fated mates, could go about their day without knowing what their partner was eating and drinking. Did it make us special? I didn't know the answer to that and I probably never would when there was no necromancer handbook available. All I knew was that it could be both a blessing and a curse.

Pre-cum flooded my tongue as I kept sucking, determined to drive Ben right to the edge of coming. By the time I finally relinquished his cock, a rosy glow suffused his entire body and his chest rose and fell so rapidly that he looked like he'd run a marathon.

Despite my earlier insistence about the location, I tugged him away from the wall and into the living room, Ben not voicing any protests as I arranged him over the back of the sofa, legs spread and hard cock, still glossy with my saliva, trapped beneath him. Ben turned his head and studied me with hooded eyelids. "How come I'm naked and you haven't taken anything off yet?"

I stepped up behind him and rubbed my fabric covered crotch over his naked backside, goosebumps breaking out on Ben's skin. "I guess I was just too damn eager to get you naked. And you were too eager to get your cock sucked. Just like you're eager to get fucked." I punctuated my words with a thrust hard enough to drive him up onto his toes.

"Jesus!" Ben's knuckles turned white as he gripped the sofa harder. "Will you take your damn clothes off?"

I grinned devilishly, even though I knew Ben couldn't see it. "Actually, I don't think I will. I only need one part of my body to fuck you." We'd never done it like this, the thought of fucking a completely naked Ben while I remained dressed to the point of not having even taken my jacket off, only making me hornier." I treated him to another thrust, this one with more intent behind it as I warmed to the idea. "Have you got a problem with that?" Ben's only response was something that sounded suspiciously like an insult. "Pardon. I didn't quite catch that."

He turned his head again, his lips quirking. "You know what your problem is?"

"No."

"All talk and no action."

It got the result Ben had been angling for, pricking my male ego enough that I was already reaching into my jacket pocket to pull out the lube I'd brought with me. If I had removed my jacket, I'd have had to waste time locating it, so there was definitely a silver lining to staying dressed. I'd brought condoms as well, my fingers pausing around the packet. "Condoms?"

"No." No hesitation, Ben not even stopping to think about it .

"I know you always preferred it without, but maybe we should—"

"No. I want to feel you."

I didn't have the willpower to argue. I unzipped my fly and pulled my cock out, smoothing lube on it. "Fingers?"

"No."

"Ben!"

"Don't Ben me. If you don't like the answer, don't ask the question."

Shaking my head, I parted his thighs wider, my gaze fixed on the pink hole the action had revealed. Ben was just as gorgeous as he'd been three years ago. Maybe even more gorgeous, Ben wearing the extra years well despite the rigors of his job.

When I pushed in, there was no stopping the stream of profanities that spilled from my lips. It was just too damn good. So tight. So hot. So made for me. I closed my eyes against the dual sensation of fucking and being fucked, Ben's emotions wrapping around me until I didn't know where I ended and he began.

"So fucking good," he crooned as I introduced another inch, the lack of foreplay only seeming to accentuate his pleasure as he became accustomed to the stretch. That was one good thing about our bond. There was no hiding pain when I would have been able to feel it.

Ben moved first, backing onto my cock like he needed it more than oxygen. And any man that said he didn't want their sexual partner desperate for them was a liar. Him wanting me as much as I wanted him was the biggest turn on.

"Do you remember our first date?" Ben asked as I bottomed out, my pubic bone flat to his arse.

I laughed. "You want to talk about that now? "

"Do you?"

"Depends on what you're classing as our first?" Ben and I had been out with friends at a bar, the way our eyes had met across a crowded room, both a cliché and the truth. I'd known he was the one straightaway, the knowledge making it harder rather than easier to approach him. It was for that reason I'd hung back, drinking more as I'd tried to pluck up the courage. Ben had been the brave one even then. Even though he'd had no understanding of necromancers and fated mate bonds, he'd known he couldn't let that electric spark between us remain unexplored and he'd approached me, his hundred-watt smile making my knees go weak. We'd fucked that night, neither of us able to fight it, despite it not being the usual way we operated.

He'd told me later that all logic had gone out the window from the moment he'd laid eyes on me and that he would have clubbed me over the head if it was necessary. I'd told him that if the police were clubbing people over the heads, then the country really was going to rack and ruin.

"Not the first night. The first time you took me out."

I smiled, my fingers curling more tightly around his hips. "You mean when I took you to a concert you hated?" The band had come highly recommended by a friend.

"I didn't hate them."

"You said you weren't sure what they were trying to achieve."

"I still don't. Their set list was so eclectic that it was hard to know whether thrash metal or a lullaby was coming next."

"They were experimental."

Ben chuckled, the action producing an interesting sensation around my embedded cock and reminding me that this was a bizarre time to be having this conversation. Maybe all Ben needed was a distraction. I withdrew slowly and then pushed back in, angling my hips so that I brushed his prostate.

"Jesus! Wait… I had a point I was trying to make."

I didn't wait. That single thrust had made it impossible to, my hips taking on a life of their own to repeat the motion. Still slow, but no less enjoyable for it. "What was your point?" I thrust again, this time harder and deeper, the sight of my cock disappearing into Ben, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen—a sight I could never tire of. I was choosing not to think about the fact that I'd willingly given it up. Monks used to flay themselves as punishment. I'd cut Ben out of my life as cleanly and efficiently as a surgical amputation. But if I dwelled on it, we'd never get past it. And I knew that as devastated as he might have been by my actions that he understood. He might not have forgotten, but he had forgiven.

"My point was…" Ben was breathless now, his hips moving in tandem with mine and a sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin. "That… fuck… Yeah, that's good. Harder. Really give it to me."

I did, the wet slap of our bodies filling the room and our movements abrupt enough to shift the sofa forward a couple of inches. We went with it. If the sofa had ended up out in the garden with us still draped over it, I doubt either of us would have cared enough to stop. "Your point?"

Ben braced himself more firmly against the sofa, arching his back and turning his head so that our gazes met. "I don't remember, you bastard. You've fucked it out of me."

Hips still moving, I pulled him back against my chest and kissed him. It was a kiss of possession. One that said he was mine, and I was his, and that I wouldn't be letting him go again while there was still breath left in my body. My hand found his cock while we kissed and I peeled his fingers away to take over, Ben gasping into my mouth as I stroked him in time with my thrusts.

It was an awkward position that didn't satisfy either of us for long. Whether I pushed him back over the sofa or whether Ben dropped there of his own accord was up for debate. Given how in tune we were, it was entirely possible both things happened simultaneously.

"Harder," he demanded.

For the next few minutes, there was only the slide of skin, harsh pants, and a race toward what we both wanted… what we both needed. Ben's hand was almost a blur as he stroked his cock. My cock. I didn't know anymore, the sensory perception as tangled as it always was. I felt his orgasm before mine, Ben going rigid beneath me as he cried out. I fought my climax, not ready for it to end yet, but nobody could stave off the impossible forever. When my orgasm came, it hit like a wrecking ball, heat consuming me from the inside. I came what felt like gallons, filling Ben up just as he'd wanted me to do when he'd rejected condoms. When I finally recovered enough to withdraw, there was a primal satisfaction in watching the drip of cum slowly make its way down his thigh. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Ben let out a breath, one so slow and prolonged that it seemed to go on for a lifetime. "I needed that," he eventually said. "This case…"

"Yeah." I knew how much of a toll it had taken on him, had felt his emotions churning beneath the surface even when he'd been at his most composed on the outside. I turned him around to face me, Ben laughing as I bent forward and heaved him over my shoulder.

"What are you doing? "

"Taking you somewhere more comfortable."

"You mean that bed you were so set against?"

I didn't answer. My route to the bottom of the stairs was already confirmation enough. Ben was heavy as I maneuvered us up them, our previous relationship never having included me manhandling him to this extent. I had a feeling, though, that quite a few things would be different this time round. How could they not be when we were different people? No doubt there would be lots of new things to discover about the other, but rather than scaring me, I was looking forward to it.

"Thanks," Ben said drily as I dumped him somewhat unceremoniously on the bed and he lay back with his hands behind his head, naked and on display. I gave myself a few seconds to admire the sight before going into the bathroom and coming back with a washcloth. "Such a gentleman," Ben teased as I washed both him and myself, shedding my clothes as I did so.

Tempting as it was to join him and lose myself in him once more, the rumbling of Ben's stomach reminded me we'd had other plans before we'd leaped on each other like a pair of randy teenagers. "Stay here. I'll get the food and we can eat it in bed."

I padded back downstairs naked, closing the curtains in the living room—which was very much like closing the stable door after the horse had bolted—before retrieving the bag of Chinese takeaway from where I'd thrown it and going into the kitchen to look for plates.

"Griff!"

I smiled at the shout. "Yeah?"

"Don't be long."

"We need plates."

"I can be your plate. "

Despite the messiness that image conjured up, my cock still twitched. We'd never eaten food off each other. We'd never done a lot of things, so the possibilities were endless. I needed to make a list. One that made up for lost time.

When I returned to the bedroom with my plates full of goodies, Ben was still naked. He wore a cat that had got the cream expression as he lounged back against the pillows, his cock not quite flaccid against his thigh, like he was already contemplating round two.

I lay the plates between us before sitting cross-legged on the bed, Ben levering himself up and mirroring my position.

"I'm staying tonight," I announced as he reached for the cutlery I'd brought and speared a piece of Peking Duck on the end of his fork.

"Oh, you are, are you?" The smirk on his face as he chewed slowly showed it for the teasing it was. "What if I don't want you to? What if I like my own space?"

I shook my head. "Not an option."

"And why's that?"

I helped myself to some noodles. "Because you haven't fucked me yet. Because I'd miss you too much. Because…"

Ben's expression turned serious. "You don't have to overdo it. I know you're sorry. I know that if you could turn the clock back, you'd make different decisions. It's sorted. It's in the past. We move on from it."

"Just like that?"

He nodded. "Just like that."

"In that case…" I stole the last piece of duck from the container and stuck it in my mouth, Ben's expression changing to one of outrage. "Hey! Just so we're clear. There are things I can't forgive you for, and stealing my duck is one of them. "

" Our duck."

" My duck."

And then we were both laughing, any residual tension between us dissipating. "We should look for a place to live," I said. "Somewhere different that will be a fresh start."

"I'm not leaving my job."

"I would never ask you to."

"Good." Ben chewed slowly while he contemplated what I'd said. "So we're going to move in together again, are we?"

"Only if you want to… I assumed…" I trailed off. "Perhaps I shouldn't have done. I can wait for however long it takes for you to feel comfortable with the idea."

Ben lifted his head and subjected me to a searching look. "And what about the rest?"

"The rest?"

He toyed with the food on his plate for a few seconds. "We were engaged. We were halfway through planning a big wedding, remember?"

"Of course I remember." The accusation that I might not stung. "I figured I'd have to work up to that point again."

"What point?"

I suddenly felt like I was on a rollercoaster, the words lodging in my throat. "Asking you to marry me again." The first time I'd pulled out all the stops, booking the entirety of Ben's favorite restaurant, hiring a band to play romantic background music, and then getting down on one knee to offer the ring I'd agonized over buying. I had no idea how I was going to top that. "What did you do with the ring?"

Ben finished his mouthful of food before answering. "You really don't want me to answer that question."

"I do. I think we need to be honest with each other. "

"I threw it in a river. It seemed symbolic. Now… I wish I'd sold it."

I winced. "Ouch!"

"I told you that you were better off not knowing."

"I'll buy another one."

Ben shook his head. "It's not about the ring. An engagement ring is a promise, not a piece of metal. It's a statement of intent, a—"

"Detective Chief Inspector Ben Weaver, despite not deserving you in the slightest, will you marry me?" I slipped a noodle off my plate, bent it into a circle, and held it out on the palm of my hand.

Ben stared at it and for one painstaking moment, I thought I'd misread the situation completely, that he hadn't meant that it was the engagement that mattered rather than how it happened. Then with a smile, he plucked the noodle from the palm of my hand and wrapped it around his finger. "Maybe I should have asked you. It was my turn." He held his hand up, staring at the noodle like it really was gold rather than Chow Mein.

Nerves made it hard to breathe. This was far worse than the first time I'd done it. Then, I'd known he'd say yes, and it had just been about getting to that point. Now, though, there was a tiny part of me that thought he might throw it back in my face and tell me this whole thing had been nothing but a well-orchestrated revenge.

Ben glanced up at me, his brow creasing. "Your face."

"You haven't said yes yet."

"Huh!" He tipped his head to one side and grinned devilishly. "And there I was, thinking I'd twisted your arm to get you to ask me." A few more seconds passed. "Yes," he said, "for God's sake, yes. We do it in a registry office, though. And soon. I need to be able to tell my family that the deed's already been done. It'll save me from the lecture of all lectures about trusting you again. They don't understand the bond we share. They barely understand what it is you do. Then we can have a ceremony and invite everyone. One mainly for show. More of a party, really."

Things were moving awfully fast, and to my surprise, I didn't mind. Not when I wanted Ben as my husband. "When?"

"As soon as we can. Whenever we can get hold of a license. Do you have any problem with that?" There was a challenge in Ben's eyes that dared me to say I did.

"No."

Food forgotten, Ben held out his arms. "Then you better come here and kiss me. Consummate the engagement, so to speak."

"I don't think that's a thing." I was already pressing him back against the pillows, though, heat building between us once more and the Chinese food no longer seeming important.

"I lost my ring."

Ben sounding so genuinely sad about it, had me chuckling. "I think I accidentally ate it while you were fucking me."

He turned his head my way with a big grin on his face, both of us still slightly out of breath from yet another round of spine-tingling sex. "Saves me throwing it in the river, I suppose."

I rolled closer to him, holding his gaze. "I'm never going to give you a reason to be annoyed at me again. I promise you that. "

Ben trailed a finger along my cheek, his grin only growing wider. "While I appreciate you saying that, all relationships have their difficulties. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I will keep it. I—"

The harsh ringing of Ben's phone cut into what I'd been going to say. Despite us both turning our heads that way, neither of us reached for it. "You're not on call, are you?" I waited for the shake of his head. "Then leave it. You've worked your arse off for the past few weeks. You deserve a bit of downtime."

The phone stopped, only to start up again less than thirty seconds later. Ben swore and swung his feet out of bed. "It's probably just an I not dotted, or a T not crossed."

I checked my watch as he brought the phone to his ear. "At two in the morning?"

He shrugged. "DCI Ben Weaver speaking. I'm not meant to be…" He didn't get any further, the person on the other end presumably cutting him off. Ben's face draining of color had me sitting up, a boulder settling in my stomach. He swallowed, the action appearing painful. "Give me the address. I'll be there as soon as I can. Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

My heart was racing by the time he hung up. "What's going on?" When he turned to face me, all the relaxation from the night we'd spent together had disappeared to leave him looking haunted. "Ben? You're scaring me. What's happened? Is it your mum? Your dad?"

He shook his head. "Nothing like that. There's been another murder. Same MO. Or at least that's what they're saying. And yes, before you ask, Dougie's still in custody."