held him in her bed, motionless. Part of him knew he should leave. He had promised her this was a marriage on paper only, assured her she could trust him. Still, part of him wanted to stay. He couldn’t deny his attraction to her, and all their talk last night had only made it harder to put his feelings for her safely away in their box.
‘Why isn’t it a good idea?’ she whispered, gently twisting her wrist from his loosened grip, slowly returning it to his face.
She traced the outline of the scar which pulled at the corner of his eye. ‘Some war wound, huh?’ Her voice shook as she spoke,
Memories punched into him. The last time she’d asked that exact question had been on their one and only date, moments before they’d shared their first kiss. Could it only have been six weeks ago? It had been a gentle yet powerful kiss which had rocked him to his foundations in a way he’d never suspected a mere kiss ever could. It was the moment he’d realised he wanted more, so much more, from this woman.
She’d asked him how he’d got it—assuming, as others had done in the past, that it was something to do with the Army. Ben had always been happy to go along with their assumption—not that he’d dated a lot since his career had begun to come first. But instead he’d found himself telling Thea how the scar was a result of running into an open kitchen drawer when he was boy.
In fifteen years he’d barely even spoken to anyone about his mother. But that night he’d regaled Thea with the story of how he’d been running away from his half-furious, half-scared mum, having been found blown halfway across the room after jamming a kitchen knife into an electrical socket, trying to retrieve his wedged-in toy soldier.
Thea had been shocked and amused in equal measure, with no idea of the enormity of what Ben had just done in telling her something so personal. And now she was tracing his scar and asking him the same question again. Deliberately reminding him of that night.
He felt his willpower slipping.
He snatched his head away, jackknifing his body upright to slide her off him and launching himself sideways out of the bed. But she slipped her arms around him, stopping him from leaving the bed completely.
‘We can’t do this, Thea,’ he repeated.
If he didn’t stop this his self-control would crumble, and at some point she would come to hate him for letting this happen She would never forgive him for not staying strong enough for both of them.
‘I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight,’ she whispered hoarsely.
Grief was still etched into her expression. He felt torn. He was supposed to be here to look after her, to support her—how could he walk out on her now?
He had to get things back to where they’d been a couple of hours earlier. He could hold her, comfort her, but nothing more was going to happen.
He moved back to the bed and sat down to pull her into his arms and soothe her, as he had a few hours earlier, but Thea had other ideas.
Turning her head to his, she pressed her warm mouth to his skin, kissing his temple, his cheek, the skin inches from his mouth.
He moved his hand to stay her. ‘Stop, Thea. Neither of us are thinking straight.’
‘You’re wrong...’
Her shaky voice should have told him more, but he didn’t want to hear.
‘I know you still want me. And it’s precisely because we aren’t thinking straight that we can do this. We need this. I need this. I need oblivion. Take me away from all this. Make me forget the last three weeks. Make me forget everything. If only for a short while.’
‘It will still be there afterwards,’ he said.
Resisting her touch was taking all his willpower. She was right—he did still want her. Despite the promise he’d made to himself six weeks ago, never to go near Thea again, he hadn’t stopped wanting her or thinking about her. She had haunted his dreams.
‘Just make me forget for a moment. Please, Ben, can you do that?’
She touched him again and his mental grip slipped further. He shouldn’t give in, but he was losing control, his head was spinning. Grief, guilt, lust—all mingled together with his lack of sleep over the last month, and Ben struggled to pick his way through the tangle of emotions.
As if sensing his weakening resolve, Thea slid hesitant fingers under the waistband of his boxer shorts, looking to him as if for compliance. He should stand his ground, tell her that she was still grieving and scared and confused, that she didn’t know what she was doing.
Except it seemed as if she knew exactly what she was doing. She seemed to know what she wanted and just what effect she was having on him. And, as she’d already pointed out, she knew only too well how much he wanted her.
With a slight dip of his head he conveyed his acquiescence, sucking in deep breath as Thea slid his boxers off him and surveyed every inch of him. Then, almost shyly, she took his hand and moved it to her breast. Her nipple was hard against his palm.
The effect was instantaneous. Pushing her back into the middle of the bed, Ben moved to cover her body with his, and as she arched slightly to meet him every inch of their bodies was pressed into delicious contact. Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers, to claim it as his own, but she squirmed slightly beneath him.
‘I don’t need the niceties,’ she said, flushing red at her boldness. ‘I just need you to take me. To make me forget.’
Ben scanned her face. It must have taken some courage for her to say that. He hesitated. Since he’d met her, kissed her, six weeks ago, she had danced into his late-night fantasies, but this wasn’t the way he’d imagined their first time to be. Still, there would be plenty of time for languid, indulgent exploration of each other’s bodies the next time—and the time after that. If immediate release was what she wanted now, this time, then he wasn’t objecting. He just wanted Thea—to touch her, to claim her.
He slid his knee between her legs, gliding his hands over her skin.
‘Open for me,’ he murmured, revelling in her immediate compliance, sliding his fingers between her legs and finding her hot and wet.
‘God...’ He gave a guttural groan. ‘You’re going to be my undoing.’
She gasped as he dipped inside her, finding her clit and flicking back and forth, knowing just the right amount of pressure to elicit a moan of pleasure from her. But before he could continue her hand pushed down between their bodies, her fingers latching around his wrist as she pushed him away, wrapping her legs around him instead and shifting her body so it was central to his.
The tip of his erection skimmed her damp heat and he heard another low moan. It took him a moment to realise it was his own voice.
‘No niceties, Ben. Remember?’ Thea muttered.
‘This is all you want?’ Ben asked. Holding back when he was this close was almost unbearable, but he had to be sure.
‘It’s all I want,’ she confirmed, burying her head in his shoulder.
Unable to hold back any longer, he pushed inside her, feeling her stretch around
