Chapter 19

I don’t know why I expected Ben to start acting weird the second we were in L.A. Maybe it was the part of me that was still used to being disappointed. It didn’t take more than an hour for those fears to be put to rest, however, as Ben made a place for himself in my life as easily as I’d made a place for myself in his.

He was always there.

Always helping.

Taking care of me, chatting with Nancy, standing stoic and quiet in the back of the room while he let me do my work. He didn’t get in the way, and his lips were always twisted into a proud little smile. Like looking at me shine made him happy.

It’d been a long time since I enjoyed being watched, and I found myself melting into it now, as I stood on the temporary stage that the crew had constructed, running through the musical numbers that had been selected for me.

This was just the dress rehearsal. It was the only time we’d be running through everything before I returned for the party on Christmas Eve. I already had an idea of how my home would be decorated—Nancy had a binder full of pictures that she and the event coordinator had decided on. There’d be a caterer with ridiculously tiny plates full of ridiculously expensive food. An open bar. A giant black and white Christmas tree that was tall enough to tap the ceiling.

Now, the room was bare, aside from the crew, the performers, and Ben.

It was a skeleton of what it would be, and yet…I felt high, almost.

My skin was buzzing.

Energy burst through my body, the excitement of the performance—despite the fact it was only practice—making me feel worth my weight in gold. This was how I’d used to feel when I was on stage, before the nights went dark and the eyes became too much. This was the reason I wanted to be a musician. To feel the music move through me, to feel it’s throb and ebb. The zap of electricity that shot through my veins every time I hit a note just right.

It was nice to feel it again.

I never wanted it to end.

“That was your best yet,” Nancy hummed when I finished the last set, gently giving my shoulder a squeeze. The band was already packing up. They were new people. No one from my previous tour. I didn’t even know their names, and normally that would bother me—but right now, I was too excited to care.

Ben clapped, as did the rest of the crew. I said my thanks, then stepped down, letting Nancy bark orders as I made my way toward Ben and his spot in the corner.

“You were amazing ,” he promised, his eyes sparking with heat.

“Oh?” My eyebrows shot up as Ben pulled me in close. Close enough his very hard, very delicious dick pressed against my belly. “Oh,” I repeated, lower this time. “I didn’t know my singing did it for you.”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, leaning down so his breath was hot at the shell of my ear. I licked my lips, piercing clicking against my teeth when I bit down with a groan. “You do this thing…when you’re playing,” Ben hummed, voice crackling like fire. “Your hips push forward, and your pants pull tight?—”

“Jesus fuck.”

“Your pretty little cock has been teasing me all night.”

Suddenly, I could not fucking wait for everyone to leave.

The L.A. city lights spread out beneath our feet as Ben and I peered down black glittering glass into the streets below. My belly swooped the way it always did when I got this close. Despite the thickness of the glass and its safety, my body was still convinced I would fall.

It was past dark now. The crew had cleaned up and Nancy had given me a parting kiss on the cheek before leaving with a wave and a click of her high, high heels. I wouldn’t see her again until I flew in on the twenty-third.

The goodbye was as bittersweet as it’d felt when I’d first left L.A. to go to Belleville over a month ago. Only this time…something inside me felt more settled.

I wasn’t ice cold and praying for mercy. Wasn’t operating on half an hour’s rest and six cups of coffee. I hardly felt like the same person, even though I knew I was. Like the skeleton Ben had put back together for me, I had all the same pieces—only now that Ben had arranged me I was fundamentally changed.

The moment we were alone at last, Ben and I had poured ourselves congratulatory—in my case—glasses of wine before we meandered our way toward the window. And now here we were, what felt like miles above the city streets, and I was floating—but that had everything to do with Ben’s proximity and the promise of what was happening tonight, and nothing to do with the height of my penthouse apartment.

“You had fun tonight,” Ben said, and his voice was soft and sure as always. I hummed in agreement, sipping at my wine and tipping into his side like it was second nature. Even though I wasn’t sure it ever truly would be. There would always be a little part of me that was grateful for his warmth, that was made reverent by how solid and sure he was.

He’d coaxed me forward, gently, patiently.

He was careful with his words, with his gestures, never giving too much—always more aware of my boundaries than even I was. Like he had wiggled his way inside my brain. Like he was a part of me now.

We were different.

In fact, we had more differences than similarities.

Ben was everything I’d always wished I could be. He was steady and strong, dependable and loving. And yet being with him never made me feel like I was lacking. He was the first person in my life that I had let truly see me. The first person that I had no walls up with.

“Robin?” Ben’s lips were against my temple now, gentle and sweet. I realized too late that I hadn’t replied. He sounded worried. Which was fair, usually I was a chatterbox when I was with him. “We don’t have to?—”

“I am hopping on your dick tonight. Taking a one-way ticket to pound-town. Eating a full plate of eggs Ben-ad-dick.” Frowning, I added. “Ben-addict?”

Ben snorted, amused, and I was honored to experience one of his snorts against my skin. Felt weirdly tickle-y and very pleasant, if I’m being honest. “We can postpone,” he hummed. “If you’re not feeling well.”

“Why are you trying to cockblock me?” I twisted around, grabbing on to his face with my free hand and giving his cute little cheeks a pinch. His lips pushed out as I squeezed, and his eyes danced—though his concern was not gone entirely.

“You’re quiet,” he said, like me being quiet made him worried.

Again, proving that just like I’d suspected, he really fucking paid attention.

“It’s a good kind of quiet,” I replied, relaxing my grip enough that he could twist and press a fluttery kiss against my palm.

“Yeah?” Ben’s voice was low and softer than snowflakes.

“Yeah,” I agreed, my own voice just as husky. “It’s like…for the first time in my life I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” My heart skipped a beat, and my eyes burned. “And I’m…enjoying it. Being here—with you.”

It might be the only time I had this.

Except…now that we were here—I didn’t think I could stomach that anymore.

A life without Ben Montgomery was not a life at all.

He was the click of a metronome. He was C major. He was lilting notes and revelation. He made my world quiver and shake, like the last tremulous notes of a love song. He was peace and longing, and happiness, all rolled into one tall, serious, but kind man.

With his sweaters. And his chocolate chip pancakes. And his daughters, who he was so, so good with. With his snort laughs. With his gentle hands. With his brilliant, wicked brain. And the way he could bring me higher than anyone ever had before, but held me when I was at my lowest just as easily.

Ben was the kind of man who deserved sacrifices.

He was the kind of man who deserved to be chosen . To be chased. To be cherished. Bright as the winter mornings I’d seen in the Christmas movies I’d grown up coveting. He was childlike laughter, tearing open wrapping paper, and home—idealized in one, lovely, cologne-wearing person.

“I don’t think I was ever happy till I met you,” I admitted, voice cracking down the middle. “Like the ‘me’ from before, and what I felt, was duller somehow.”

“Robin,” Ben’s voice was low and crackling with warmth. And yet his eyes were warmer. He curled me in close, our wine glasses clinking.

“No,” I interrupted him, for once in my life not overthinking what would happen next, or who I was, or who I needed to be. “I need to finish.”

Ben nodded, watching me with such affection it normally would’ve made me freak out. But right then—I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid of losing him. Because right then there was nothing in the world but us, the lights below us, and this moment—and how precious it felt.

“I’ve never brought anyone here,” I told him, voice serious for once. “Not even Miles.”

Ben nodded.

“I see the way you look at me,” I added, heart thumping erratically. “I’d be blind not to.”

Again, Ben nodded.

“You’ve been so patient.” My eyes were burning. “And I just…want you to know that this—this thing we have—is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I gestured between us. “And I…” I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to so badly, but the words still wouldn’t come. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” That was better, right? Closer.

Closer than I’d ever gotten to being truly vulnerable.

“You know that scene in your book?” I added, palms slick with sweat. “Beckett.” Ben nodded. “I told you when we met about the part when Beckett left his pack and his brothers behind.” Ben nodded a third time, kind as ever. “And we made our deal.” I sucked in a breath. “I always thought…I always thought that was like me, you know?”

Ben made a quiet sound, urging me to continue, but he didn’t speak. My giant, silent teddy bear.

“I always thought—everyone was better off without me. That I…have a tendency to complicate things.” I bit my lip, piercing clinking. “And when I read about Beckett I thought—here’s a guy who gets it. A guy who understands what it’s like to put the safety of the ones he loves above himself, even if it means he ends up alone.”

Ben’s eyes were encouraging.

They said , go ahead.

They said, I’m listening.

They said, it’s okay.

“I think your book broke me a bit,” I admitted. “I was on tour. Sat in my bunk and blubbered like a baby for like an hour till Nancy came to get me for dinner.” My lips twisted into a wry little smile. “It was the first time I really felt seen, you know?”

This was a different kind of communication.

It was the kind that made you feel cracked open, your rawest most vulnerable bits exposed. And yet, here I was, trusting Ben with all the things that hurt. Because I knew he’d protect them, even better than I had.

“I think for most of my life I’ve been so scared of hurting the people I love that I’ve kept them at a distance. I told myself it was because I was being protective. That I was doing right by them.” It was hard to get the next words out, hoarse as my voice was. “But I think that’s just a lie I said so that I could hide behind my choices.” Ben’s eyes were fathomless, the warmth in them never fading. “The person I was actually protecting…this whole time…was me.”

I’d never admitted that to anyone, not even myself.

“Because I thought—if one more person—” My voice broke. “If one more person lets me down, I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“ Baby ,” Ben’s voice was a rumbly, crackly murmur. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I reached up, dashing them away, the city lights nothing but a blur.

“When I love people—” I hiccuped, “they hurt me.”

“ Shhh , I know.” I don’t know how, but Ben magicked our wine glasses away. And then he was curling around me, blocking out the lights and the world. And all there was left in my peripheral vision was cashmere. There was only his cologne. Only his biceps, and how lovely they felt huddled around my body.

His breath ruffled my hair.

“I’m so scared of being hurt.”

“I know.” Ben kissed my head. He kissed it again. And again. He squeezed me tighter, and I broke—let all my pieces fall loose. “ I know. ”

“But you won’t hurt me,” I managed, surprised by how sure I was as the words come out. “You won’t.”

“I won’t,” Ben agreed—a promise.

“Because you’re Ben Montgomery.”

“I am.”

“And you always keep your promises.”

“I do.”

Ben’s mouth tasted like happiness, which sounds cheesy, I know, but it’s true. His breath was warm, and his tongue was warmer—and his body felt impossibly large where it squashed mine into the mattress.

We hadn’t started out here.

First we kissed against the window. We’d tested Ben’s nerves as syrupy sweet kisses turned harder and rougher. The glass had been chilly against my back—if only because Ben’s body had been so, so warm. I’d clung and clung, and he’d clung back just as fiercely.

Like he was worried if he stopped holding me I’d simply sift right through his fingers.

I’ve had sex loads of times. Years ago, when I’d first started out and moved to L.A. with no money in my pockets, and no friends—one-night-stands were the easiest way to find a place to rest at night.

I’d slept in hundreds of foreign beds.

Done the walk of shame what felt like a billion times.

Given pieces of myself away with every encounter.

This was the first time I’d been with someone and I felt like they were giving back. Like…this was one of those silly, dopey love movies from the 90s. Like we weren’t fucking at all. Like it was deeper than that. I was Julia Roberts and Ben was the sexy man who had decided that despite my flaws, maybe even because of them, he was going to keep me.

Making love.

That’s what this felt like.

Especially as Ben very carefully, very slowly—because no one wanted him to get hurt, thank you very much—oh my god, carried me up the stairs to my room and laid me on the bed. He always treated me like I was something fragile and precious. Like I was a delight, no matter what I was doing. He asked me again if this was what I wanted—and I’d laughed, because he was so annoyingly sweet it made me want to scream sometimes.

And then we kissed.

And kissed some more.

And we kissed and kissed and kissed .

And it was slick, and warm, and home, home, home. It was happiness and comfort. It was lulling and delicious. These almost drugging, languid swipes of his tongue that made me feel like I was melting.

The world could’ve been ending outside and I wouldn’t have cared.

“Yellow if you want me to slow down,” Ben murmured, kissing my forehead, my lips tingling the second he pulled away. “Red to stop.” He kissed my cheek. “Green if you like something and I’m checking in.” He kissed my ear.

I shuddered, fingers bunching up in his sweater. I was wrinkling it. Maybe stretching it out too—to the point that “Robin” fingers would remain inside it forever.

Ben didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” Ben murmured, this quiet rumbly murmur that made me light up from the inside out. And then he added, as if what he’d already said wasn’t sweet enough. “Thank you for trusting me with this. With…you.”

I was fully clothed and yet I felt naked.

“Thank you for listening,” I replied, voice rubbed raw, like my feelings had given it a rug burn. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“I adore you,” Ben said, the words his eyes had been telling me for weeks. “ I adore you, ” he repeated, because once would never be enough for either of us.

“I adore you ,” I replied, because it was true. It was true, and at that moment, I wasn’t too scared to admit it.

Ben was quick and efficient as he stripped himself of his clothing. All that gorgeous tan muscle on display. I fanned my fingers across the flowers that ran up his forearms, skipping over the scrawl of the twins’ names, etched delicately between petals.

The veins danced beneath my fingertips as Ben’s chest heaved, his free hand fumbling between his legs to get his button and zip undone. He shucked the rest of his clothing off quickly, dick slapping free.

And god, was it a lovely fucking dick.

Thick, and long, and—fuck. Yes .

I’d never get tired of staring at it.

Never.

He’d been patient until this moment. Always biding his time, like a crocodile lying in wait just below the surface of murky water. But now he was exposed, his feelings written all over his face as his cock rose from a nest of auburn curls, veiny, hard, and delicious.

It was an honor to see Ben so open.

He had more walls than I did.

And as he worked his fingers under the hem of my mesh shirt, I shivered. Ben was more gentle with me than he’d been with himself. And it was hard to think about anything but the sexy cock swinging between his legs. Flushed bright red, the crown leaking obscenely. It brushed my thigh, skimming the hole in my jeans, and I groaned.

Together, we pulled my shirt up and off.

And then Ben’s mouth was on my chest. Liquid hot, his tongue laved my nipples, teeth sinking in like he was as ravenous for me as I was for him. Weirdly enough, my explosion of honesty hadn’t poisoned this. In fact, it somehow made it better. Made me feel raw and open and needy in a way I never had been before.

Trust was the elephant in the room.

“You’re so beautiful,” I croaked out, shivering when Ben’s hands froze, his head swiveling to look up at me. His eyes were nearly black with lust, the honey color swallowed almost entirely.

“Thank you,” his voice was hoarse. “So are you.”

I didn’t think anyone had ever told Ben that he was beautiful before. Because the splotchy flush on his cheeks was telling.

“I’ve never met a more wonderful person,” I added, because it was true. Ben made a hurt little sound, head sinking down as he fluttered a grateful little kiss against my sternum. My pants and boxers were the only thing between me and all that warm, lovely skin. Normally I’d be impatient. I’d be swearing and pulling and begging.

But this…moment was too perfect to ruin with haste.

If this was all I ever got, I was going to make the most of it.

I would memorize Ben’s moles, memorize the cowlick on the top of his head, memorize the sounds he made when he finally, blissfully lost control. I’d keep him safe inside my heart beside all my darkest secrets. Because Ben had proven to me that he was far more precious than all the things that made me brittle, and it was as he pressed one more final kiss against my sternum that I realized I cared about him more.

Cared about him more than my carefully guarded heart.

Cared more about him than protecting myself.

Cared more about him than I cared about myself.

“Lift up,” Ben’s lips skimmed my throat as his fingers found my zipper and tugged it down. I did as I was told—because duh, when Ben tells you to lift up you fucking lift up. He wiggled my pants down, pausing for a second, a sharp exhale escaping him. “ Robin ,” his voice was a low growl.

“Surpriiiise,” I replied, heart skipping a beat.

Ben’s fingers fanned along the lace that hugged my hips, a quiet groan escaping him. “I knew I liked your surprises,” he murmured, an almost reverent tone to his voice. When I glanced down I nearly came. Because the juxtaposition of Ben’s big ass hands on my hips, paired with my cock, pressing insistently against see-through black lace?—

“Didn’t want to disappoint you,” I replied, going for teasing.

“You couldn’t,” Ben hummed like it was a fact. “Not even if you tried.”

And then he was sinking that delicious mouth down, placing greedy, wet kisses along my hip bones. His tongue flickered out to taste the lace and my head fell back. Flick, flick, Ben worked his way down toward my dick.

When his mouth closed around the tip I moaned, spreading my legs as far as they could spread, while still trapped by my jeans. It was the immobility that kinda did me in, actually. Because I couldn’t fucking move and that was…Jesus, that was hot.

“Ben,” my voice cracked right down the middle. “Ben, please .”

His mouth slipped off my cock and he made this adorable grumpy sound, like I was pissing him off by taking my dick away.

“I’m stuck.”

“I know,” Ben laughed, biting my hip almost punishingly, before he ripped my pants off so fucking fast it felt like a magic trick. When I could spread wide, I groaned again, my balls pulled snug against the lace as Ben dropped his head back to my cock and suckled at it through the fabric. Already the panties felt sticky.

Hell, if I was being honest, they’d been sticky since the first time Ben had kissed me against the glass. He made these happy little growly sounds, like the flavor of my cum pleased him. It was honestly fucking filthy. The way he slurped through the fabric, flicking his tongue to catch every drop.

By the time he pulled my panties off, they were soaked through, and my dick was aching.

“How do you want this?” he asked, voice low as he wiggled back to gently extricate the panties from my ankles. They looked impossibly small in his hands.

“Let’s go vanilla,” I replied. “Wanna see your kinky-ass face.”

“Ass-face?” Ben teasingly arched an eyebrow, and I laughed—only that laughter died pretty damn quick, because when my gaze fell to Ben’s cock again, I was gifted with the fucking obscene sight of him fisting my panties around it and giving it a long, lingering stroke.

A drop of cum pooled at the tip of his dick, leaking onto the fabric and mixing with his spit.

“Jesus fuck,” I whimpered, my dick twitching, and my hole clenching around nothing.

“Missionary it is,” Ben hummed. “To start.”

“To start?” I echoed, still staring at his dick. Staring at how fucking huge it looked, the strappy lace of my panties wrapped around it. He stroked again, and I felt electrified, ready to do just about anything to feel that dick inside me.

“If you think I’m only fucking you once tonight you are about to get a surprise of your own.”

I laughed, though it was really more of a moan.

I reached down, legs pushing up toward my chest, my fingers spreading my cheeks to give Ben a flash of where I wanted him most. “Are you gonna fuck my bussy, Ben Ben?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ben replied, fisting his cock again as he laughed—my jokes obviously doing it for him.

He pulled the panties off his dick and flicked them at my face. I snorted, batting them away, though I was quickly distracted as the quiet click of the lube opening echoed through the room. It was like fucking Pavlov’s dog or some shit, because that sound immediately made my hole twitch, and my balls draw up tight.

Ben leaned over me, the length of his body pressing into mine as he leaned on one elbow—somehow able to support himself entirely on the single arm as his other hand slip-slid between my cheeks. Slow and searching, he gave my hole an exploratory rub.

“F-fuck,” my voice broke and Ben hummed, low and sweet.

“Relax, little songbird.” His fingers continued to pet at me, teasing me into submission as he fluttered an almost innocent kiss against my cheekbone. At least…it felt innocent—in comparison to what his hand was doing. “Push out when I?—”

I did as I was told, groaning as Ben slipped inside, the pad of his finger wiggling experimentally deeper.

“You’re acting like you’ve never fucked me before,” I complained as he moved impossibly slow.

“I haven’t.”

“I—” I guess I didn’t have anything to say to that. Because he was right. Sure he’d had his fingers inside me more times than I could count, but this was different. Because there was a condom wrapper beside the lube bottle tonight, and Ben and I were going to be joined for the first time.

“What, no snarky comment?” Ben teased, kissing my temple affectionately. “No silly nickname? Not going to try and boss me around again?”

“Wouldn’t work even if I tried,” I agreed, shuddering as he pushed deeper, and deeper still. “We both know you’re the one in charge.”

“Fuck,” Ben’s voice was back to that quiet little growl. He slid a second finger in with the first and I whined, fingers biting into his biceps.

“What, you like that?” I teased, squeezing around him and enjoying the slight burn. My lashes fluttered. “You like being the one in control?”

“Of course I do,” Ben replied, fingers twisting and then—oh fuck. Jesus. It was my turn to swear now. I whined softly, the bite of my fingers growing slack as all my focus was redirected to the pleasure zinging from where Ben was brutally pushing against my prostate. “When I’m in control, you’re safe.”

I gasped out, squeezing around him, eyes rolling back as he pushed in and out, the wet sound obscene.

“When I’m in control, you’re spoiled and stuffed full—” Ben continued, still fucking me, his wrist snapping a little harder. “You’re happy.”

He was right, so I didn’t argue.

I just spread wider and arched my back to take him better.

Ben’s third finger burned more than the first two had, but I didn’t mind. I’d never minded. I liked that even more than if I’d felt no burn at all. It reminded me of how big he was. Reminded me that this massive monster of a man was inside me.

His dick was most definitely bigger than three fingers.

And when he was focused on my ass, his dark eyes full of lust, gaze trained on where he pushed in and out of the hot-wet-pink, I wiggled my foot down to press against his dick.

“Fuck,” Ben groaned, hips bucking. His gaze snapped up to my face, brow arched almost threateningly.

“ Ben ,” I begged. My snark was noticeably missing, voice plaintive and sweet. “Please.”

I knew he’d continue to stretch me for hours if I let him. Knew he would edge me. He’d bring me to the brink over and over—like he loved to do.

But I needed him.

I needed him, and I knew he needed me too.

Ben—because beneath all that sadistic deliciousness, he was a giant teddy bear—immediately complied. He rose up my body, the crinkle of the condom wrapper sounding as my now-empty hole gaped.

He didn’t make me wait long.

“Green?” he murmured against my lips, his sheathed cock bumping against my hole. I clenched in invitation, and Ben groaned.

“Green,” I agreed, because I was. I was green-green-green.

And then he was pushing in. And it ached and ached—so fucking good. Made me feel split wide. Like I was forced to evolve to accommodate his girth. And I loved every fucking second of it. Loved the way every inch caused new little zaps of electricity to skate up my arms. Loved the way Ben’s chest heaved, and his breath left him in an overwhelmed swoosh.

“You feel so good,” he gasped out, the words hot against my temple. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight.”

I didn’t have words, so I just nodded, whining softly, my ass giving for him. Steadily, he pressed inside. Inch by inch. I wanted to force him to move faster, but even I knew that wasn’t the best idea.

When Ben bottomed out we both released a groan. And then laughed. Only the laugh made me tense up—and Ben made this delicious sobbing sound, his hips grinding in deeper—like he simply couldn’t help himself when I squeezed around him.

God, he was big. So fucking big. I could hardly breathe I was so full.

“Ben—” I managed, somehow, voice wobbling.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Ben repeated, lower than before. He slid out a little, testing the give of my ass. “Can I…?”

Always polite, that one.

“Please,” I replied, shuddering. “Please. I need—I need you.” It was hard to say those words, even in a setting like this—with the person I loved most in the world. But I managed. I managed, because Ben was worth leaving my comfort zone for.

“I need you,” I repeated, and no truer words had ever been spoken.

Ben’s mouth was liquid hot as he took me in the kiss to end all kisses. Teeth, tongue, nipping, biting. He owned my mouth as greedily as he owned my ass, slipping out all the way with a gasping whine—only to shove back into me with a harsh snap.

I raked my nails up and down his chest, up his back, into his hair—holding on for dear life as he pounded into me, all his carefully controlled walls turning to dust.

Snap, snap, Ben’s hips drove into me, sending me higher and higher and higher.

I whined, a high brittle sound, sucking on his tongue, my body giving for him.

He made these delicious little growly sounds every time he pounded inside me. My hole gave, loose and wet, squeezing around him with every delicious snap of his hips. Close, so close, I shivered beneath him, desperate to make this last as long as possible. Ben had different plans, however, because one of his big, lovely hands closed around my cock. He squeezed once. One single time—and that was all it took.

I spilled with a broken sob, my entire body bowing toward him as Ben milked every last drop out of me, still thrusting in earnest.

He followed soon after, two, three, four sharp ruts of his hips as he spilled inside the condom with a quiet groan. He collapsed onto me, his cum-stained hand smearing across my hip as he held me close, face pressed to my skin.

“You’re perfect,” he promised, quiet enough I wasn’t sure I was even meant to hear. “You’re so perfect.”

I clenched around him and he groaned, hips giving another aborted thrust—like he simply couldn’t help himself.

When he tried to pull out, I dug my heels into the backs of his thighs, forcing him to stay put.

“Stay,” I begged, kissing the gray at his temple the way he always kissed me. “Just a little longer.” Ben nodded, curling tighter around me, his big warm body squishy and slightly sweat-sticky. “Wanna be full of you just a little longer.”

Ben groaned, grinding into me again, his big ass flexing. I could feel it beneath my heels when I skimmed upward, enjoying the happy little sounds he made as he fucked me the way he’d promised he would.

“Next time we’re gonna do that without a condom,” I promised, voice dropped low. “And you’re going to breed my ass.”

“Fuck yes,” Ben fucked forward a third time, a sharp enough snap that for a moment there I thought he’d gotten hard again. But he hadn’t. Not yet. “Gonna breed you full, my little songbird,” Ben murmured, sounding half drunk and sated. “Gonna make your sweet ass gape as it leaks my cum.”

My big, gorgeous teddy bear.

“Hell yeah, you are,” I agreed—because holy fuck did I want that.

“Good boy,” Ben hummed, voice a sleepy rumble. “You’re such a good boy, Robin.” He fluttered a kiss against my neck where he was nestled. “Such a good, good , boy.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said those words and yet it warmed me just the same.

My eyes burned and I grinned, letting my lids drift shut.

Because this was a perfect moment. And I wanted to memorize every bit of it. Wanted to memorize the way Ben’s leg hair prickled. Wanted to memorize how it felt to have him inside me—all that hot, thick length rearranging my insides. Wanted to memorize the hot brush of his breath, and the way he held me close like I was precious.

I felt precious then.

I felt good .

But even more than that…I felt loved.

All my wiry, sharp edges. All my freckles, my moles, my frown lines. My protruding ribs, and mistakes I’d made nothing but things that made up the person Ben Montgomery adored.

Because as I lay in Ben Montgomery’s arms, the world no longer felt like a scary place. I wasn’t afraid of being disappointed. Wasn’t scared about what the future might hold. I was full, in more ways than one, and for a man who had lived his entire life starved—that was…

That was pretty fucking awesome.