She laughed, a bubble of joy rising inside her, relaxing her, and Ben bent his head to her body, his mouth moving over her breasts, sucking, nipping. She threaded her fingers through his hair, so crisp and soft, as sensation took over. She definitely wasn't overthinking this now.
Yet Ben never let her slide into oblivion. Any time she did, closing her eyes, throwing her head back, forgetting, he brought her back to the present, to him, nudging her eyes open, making her respond not just with her body, but with her mind. Her heart.
She writhed underneath him, resisting, wanting this to be simple. Easy. Safe.
Yet nothing about being with Ben was any of those things. It was frightening and wonderful and far too intense. His mouth moved down her body, lingering in certain places, his tongue tasting her skin, memorising her. Natalia lay there, accepting and strangely humbled, and yet also fighting the tide of desire that threatened to wash right over her, sweep her out to sea. She was afraid of this. Afraid of losing control, of being laid bare, body and heart and mind, before him.
His hair brushed her tummy as he moved lower, and then his mouth was between her legs, right at the centre of her, and Natalia tensed. His hands rested on her thighs, gently forcing her to stay splayed, utterly exposed and vulnerable, everything open to him, and she couldn't bear it.
Natalia tried to pull away, resisting, afraid and embarrassed, but Ben wouldn't let her hide herself. His mouth pressed against her and her body jerked in response, pleasure and sensation spiralling upwards inside her as her voice caught on a jagged cry. His tongue flicked against her folds and she cried again, the pleasure so intense it felt painful.
Still she resisted, her hips twisting as she tried to free herself from his hands. ‘Don't-' she gasped, and yet when he stopped she felt as if a jagged hole had been cut through her; she was devastated, empty and aching.
‘Don't fight it, Natalia. Don't fight me.'
‘I can't-' she gasped, because even now the thought of him seeing her like this made her want to cringe and hide.
‘Why?' Ben asked quietly. She felt his breath feather her heated skin. ‘Why can't you?'
‘Because … '
His hands rested on her thighs, steady and warm. ‘Do you want me to stop?'
‘No-' she gasped, because that thought was intolerable. His mouth found her again and this time Natalia couldn't resist it. She gave herself up to the feeling, to him, and when she cried out, her voice a broken splinter of sound, he slid inside her, consuming her as tears of both emotional and physical release streamed down her face and pleasure like nothing she'd ever known coursed through her, filled her heart to overflowing so the shell around it cracked and broke right open.
Her body clenched around him and she matched him stroke for stroke, tears still streaking down her face, waves of pleasure washing over her in an endless tide. Then she felt Ben find his own release, his body shuddering against hers before he subsided, their hearts beating a desperate rhythm against each other.
She was completely exposed, her body and heart, and there was nothing she could do about it. No way to hide or pretend now. Gently Ben wiped the tears from her face as her body shuddered in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced.
Her heart felt like something fragile and fledgling, exposed to the elements, barely able to survive. Even now she wanted to pull away and protect it. Protect herself.
He kissed the corner of her eye where another tear had started to trickle down. ‘Are these good tears?' he murmured.
‘I don't know,' Natalia confessed in a shaky whisper. ‘I don't know what they are.' She'd never felt so much. Revealed so much. She felt both empty and full at the same time.
Ben didn't answer, but as he rolled off her Natalia felt ridiculously bereft, as if he'd just left her. Rejected her. He slipped from the bed and she watched in surprise and then understanding as he moved through the darkness of the bedroom. He turned on the light in the en suite bathroom and a second later he slid back into bed and pulled her towards him. He fit her snugly against him, his chin resting on her shoulder as his thumb continued to trace the silvery track of tears down her cheek.
‘Better?' he whispered, and she nodded, felt herself slowly start to relax, the tightly held parts of herself loosen. They had been good tears after all. ‘Happy?' he asked, and she smiled and reached for his hand, threading his fingers with her own.
‘Yes,' she said. ‘Happy.' And safe. In Ben's arms, she felt safe and vulnerable, which was a mind-blowing combination. She felt known.
And it was wonderful.
CHAPTER TWELVE
NATALIA woke slowly to sunlight, her body aching in the most amazing places. She shifted, felt Ben's arm heavy across her and smiled. Memories of last night drifted through her mind in pleasure-splintered fragments, memories of an intimacy so incredible and life-changing she could hardly believe it was real. It had happened.
She turned so she could see Ben, his face relaxed in slumber, his lashes long and curly on his stubble-roughened cheeks. Still smiling she reached over and with one finger touched his mouth, the mouth that had kissed and loved her all over. Even now, in the safety of his embrace, the memories made her blush. This was all so new, not just Ben, but her. Who she was. Who she was with him.
Ben opened his eyes and blinked sleep from them before giving her a lazy smile. ‘Princess,' he said, ‘are you checking me out?'
‘No-' Natalia said instinctively, and his smile deepened.
‘You shouldn't have told me how you go blotchy. I can tell when you're lying.' He pressed one finger to the now-rosy skin of her throat. Natalia let out a reluctant laugh.
‘All right, so I might have been checking you out,' she said, staying flippant. ‘So what?'
‘I like it,' he told her, and nuzzled her neck. ‘I like it a lot.'
‘Don't get all arrogant on me now,' she said, and Ben lifted his head to gaze at her steadily.
‘Trust me, Natalia, you keep me humble.'
She swallowed, moved by the sincerity on his face. In his eyes. He'd let go, she realised. He wasn't letting the fear or lack of control keep him back, yet she still felt uncertain. Afraid. And she knew that wasn't fair to him. Tentatively she touched his cheek. ‘I like it when you say my name,' she whispered.
‘I like that you like it,' he said, his eyes darkening, and then he captured her mouth in a consuming kiss. They didn't speak any more for a little while.
Later, as she showered in Ben's en suite bathroom while he saw to breakfast, Natalia heard himself humming. Felt herself smiling. Had she ever been this happy before? Had she ever felt this free, this loved?
Ben hadn't said it, not really. Loving you. Last night had he simply meant physically, or something more? She could hardly ask for clarification of that statement. Yet she felt, with a fragile hopefulness, that he did love her. That last night he'd been showing he loved her, in so many ways.
But he doesn't really know you.
The whisper slid slyly into her mind, filled it with the slow, seeping poison of doubt. Natalia stilled, tensed, the water from the shower still streaming over her. She knew she still had secrets, things she hadn't told Ben, important things. And with that hidden knowledge came a lingering fear that this couldn't last. It couldn't actually be real. He'd tell her he'd changed his mind or he'd discover something that would make him change his mind … .
How could she trust him? She didn't do trust. She'd learned at all of five years old that you didn't show your weaknesses. You didn't tell people your fears. Yet she'd been doing just that ever since she'd met Ben. Something in him-that quiet, rocklike core of steadiness-made her want to tell him. To reveal herself, even as she kept retreating and trying to cover her tracks. Cover herself.
Natalia leaned her head against the slippery tile and closed her eyes as the water streamed over her like tears. She didn't know if she could do this. If she was brave enough to be honest, strong enough to be vulnerable.
Why does it have to be so hard?
She had no answer.
As Natalia came out of the bathroom, swathed in a huge terrycloth towel, she saw that Ben had laid out a clean T-shirt and shorts of his to wear. Natalia slipped them on, grabbing one of his belts to cinch at her waist for the clothes swam on her. Not the most fashionable of outfits, but it touched her that Ben had thought of it at all.
She followed the mouthwatering aroma of bacon and eggs frying to the kitchen, where Ben stood by the stove, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a worn grey T-shirt. Even now the sight of him, from his rumpled hair to his bare feet, made her mouth dry and her heart thud.