“Yes. I’m sorry. I wanted your first time to be special. But the things you were feeling were too much for me, and . . .” He started laughing again.
I looked at his penis for a moment, then giggled. “I suppose I should take it as a compliment, but I have to admit, I’m feeling a bit . . . well, let down. I mean, all those years dreaming about this moment, Ben. All those hot, steamy daydreams about what it would be like. All that anticipation. Never once in my fantasies were you like this.”
“Like what? Anticipatory?”
I touched his penis with the tip of one finger. “Floppy.”
He rolled off me, laughing even harder, pulling me onto his chest. “Every second of every minute of every day since you left, I’ve thought about making love to you, and when I finally get the chance, this is what happens.” He had to stop talking, he was laughing so hard. “I swear I will make it up to you, Fran. Just give me a minute to catch my breath, and we’ll do this again, properly. I promise my floppiness is only a temporary situation.”
“Well, I hope so, because frankly, at this point my toys have you beat.”
He roared with laughter at that, and my heart did amazing little flip-flops. I’d seen Ben laugh before, but never had I seen him this way, so caught up in mirth that tears sneaked out of the corners of his eyes. I kissed the tears, then kissed his jaw, then kissed the spot behind his ear, breathing deeply of the scent of him. “You smell like a well-pleasured man,” I told him, biting his ear.
His laughter slowed down to a chuckle, his hands sliding up my hips to my breasts. “You smell like my woman.”
“Arrogant as ever, I see. Hey, I thought you were supposed to be catching your breath so you can do all the things to me that I’ve planned for you to do. And the ones you thought of that I had no idea we could do. Like that one. Seriously? With honey? I thought you didn’t eat?”
The grin he gave me was pure devilishness. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
I blushed at the thoughts that went behind his words. “No. Yes. Oh, I don’t care, but I would like you to do that bit with the honey.”
“Later,” he promised, pulling me over his body so my boobs were at his mouth. Right now I have a gauntlet to pick up. You’ve challenged me, Francesca, and I intend on proving to you that I far exceed your toys.
I squirmed with delight as he rubbed his face against my breasts, capturing an aching nipple in his mouth, where he laved his tongue over it. All right, but I have my own challenge to take care of.
What challenge is that?
I have to prove to you that I’m not horrible at sex.
He filled my head with laughter. What happened was not because you are inexperienced, love. It’s because I was not in control of myself as I should have been.
“Good. I like you out of control,” I said, sliding backward a little bit. “In fact, I think I should . . . um . . .” I looked down his body at his penis, taking a moment to admire the sights along the way. “I like your stomach.”
“Thank you. I like yours as well.” He tried to pull me up again, but I evaded his grasp, moving down to his hips, so I could press a kiss on his stomach. There was a thin trail of hair that led down from his chest to his belly button. I teased it with my fingers as I eyed his penis. It looked a bit different from I had expected. “Is something the matter? Why are you frowning at my cock?”
“It’s . . . uh . . . is it supposed to look like that? The ones I’ve seen look different.”
He sat up. “How many have you seen, Francesca?”
I grinned to myself at the outraged tone in his voice. For some reason, it warmed me to the tips of my toes when he used my full name. Not even my mother did that. “In person or on videos?”
“Both.”
None and I’m not telling. You can just assume that I’ve seen porn, okay? And stop being outraged, because I’m sure you’ve seen it as well. Aha! See? I knew you have.
There are times when I regret the ability for a Beloved to share Dark Ones’ thoughts, he muttered darkly.
Ha. You love it and you know it. Now lie down. You had your turn. I want to look at you. And . . . er . . . touch you.
He hrmphed again in my mind, but lay back down. “I’m not circumcised. That is the difference.”
“Ooh, okay.” I looked down at his penis again, trying to assess it.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Assessing. I think I want to . . . um . . .” I gestured toward the object in question.
A little smile curled his lips. “Do you at all see the irony in the fact that you are unable to say common phrases despite conducting the act itself?”
“It’s not a matter of irony at all,” I told him, sliding down and pushing his legs open. I settled between his knees, eyeing his penis. “It’s not just curse words that have power, you know, and I try to avoid the ones that might get me into trouble. I’m sorry if that sounds prissy or wimpy, but it’s how I am.”
It’s not prissy or wimpy at all. I find it charming that language means so much to you. Does it offend you if I use words like “cock”?
I thought about it for a moment, reaching out to gently touch his thickening penis. No. I did a paper once for an English class on the etymology of various profanities, and I know that word and others have a long history to them. Since you do, too, it doesn’t bother me how you speak. Well, except the accent. I would hate it if you ever lost your accent.
One eyebrow rose. I have an accent? I thought my English was perfect.
It is perfect, but you have a little bit of an accent. It’s very sexy. Kind of a cross between English and Czech, I guess, since you’re from there. It makes me feel . . . warm.
He was about to answer me, but I tipped my head at that moment, and took him into my mouth.
“Well, this is different,” I said a moment later as I tried to analyze the taste and feel of him on my tongue.
Flurg.
“What?”
Flurg. I said flurg. Do that again.
I swirled my tongue along the very tip of him.
His hips bucked. “Flurg!”
“I take it by the fact that Mr. Floppy is gaining in stature that you’re going to be willing to give this another try.”
“Francesca,” Ben said sternly, but his lips twitched as I blinked innocently at him. “I am selfishly grateful that you have not had experience with other men to know this, but there is one term you never, ever use to your lover, and ‘Mr. Floppy’ is that term.”
I looked at his penis. He was not unduly large, not walk funny for a week large, but judging by my rough estimation, he had Finnvid beat. “I’m sorry,” I told his penis. “I will never again refer to you as Mr. Floppy, Mr. Overly Anticipatory, or even Mr. Leave Fran Wondering What All the Fuss Is About—”
“That impertinence, Beloved, is not something I am going to stand for.” Ben was suddenly looming over me, the sheets of the bed cool beneath my back as he nipped my hip.
“I knew you were bossy, but I never knew you were this bossy. Oh merciful goddess! Are you going to . . . You are! Oral sex! I’ve been dying to try—” My eyes opened wide, almost crossing at the sensation of his hot breath on intimate parts of me that had not previously entertained anyone, my hands clutching at the sheets as my hips rose.
“You have to tell me what you like,” Ben said somewhat indistinctly as he nipped the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
“That! I like that!”
“So the swirl gets a thumbs-up. And what about this?”
“Oh, it’s good, too,” I moaned as my hips moved in a restless rhythm in response to the dance his fingers were doing.
“Hmm. Does this do anything for you?”