Don’t Blame Me – Taylor Swift
like this. Desperate for more, more skin, more taste, completely and utterly starved on their touch. His touch. And judging from his matched eagerness, the parallel pressure of his lips, I thought it was safe to assume he was into it as much as I was.
There was nothing sweet about the way he kissed me. His lips were soft, but that was about it. This kiss was all hunger and lust as our mouths moved against each other. He’d run his teeth against my bottom lip, pinching it playfully, and I’d return the favor with my tongue teasing him, earning a deep guttural groan of desire from him.
Utter filth.
I couldn’t beg, wouldn’t beg for more. That was too desperate, but I was about to combust if this didn’t go somewhere more private. His hand traveled up into my hair, pulling gently but hard enough for me to know the pressure was intentional. I tried to stifle a moan, but it treacherously escaped, and he bit my lip again in response.
The way his lips moved against mine, the softness of his skin, the stubble he’d sported during the week erased–it was driving me insane. The tension between us continued to build higher and higher as he slid his arm from my shoulder to my waist, snaking around my body, his hand searching for access. His touch was already sending shivers up and down my spine. How would it feel against naked skin? He pulled me into his body, hard against him this time, and then as he pressed his lips into mine, I felt his hardness against me, a strong reminder of what this could all turn into.
And Jesus Christ, did I want him. I wanted to wreck him, ride him, take so much of him I couldn’t bear it. I don’t know how long I’d been hurtling towards this without realizing it. How long had this tension had been building? But I was done fighting it, especially when it felt this good.
Suddenly, a car drove past, its horn blaring despite the late hour. At the same time, we untangled from each other, pulling away like the wrong sides of a magnetic field. Instantly, the space between us felt wrong, the chill of the night suddenly so alarming despite the raging heat of my skin. I could still feel the pull towards him, the need to drag my hands through his hair, press my lips to his again and taste him till I forgot what anything else ever tasted like.
“Are you okay?” His voice was breathy, his chest lifting up and down as if he’d just finished running a marathon. And to be fair, I felt the same way, my heart racing in my chest. When I didn’t answer, he took a step forward. Immediately, I lifted my hand up to keep the space between us.
“Just… give me a minute,” I said, voice quiet but firm as I tried to regain control of myself, trying to understand how much had changed between us with one quick, world altering kiss.
Who decided to let a man as handsome as Ben Bennett be that good a kisser?
Taking a deep breath, I tried to pull myself together. This wasn’t like me, I didn’t lose control. Certainly not for a while, and never with co-workers. Especially with Ben Bennett. And yet, here I was, still wondering what it would be like to be pressed up against him again, tangled up in his arms; what it would be like to feel him on me, his skin touching mine.
I felt good, better than I had in months. My brain felt temporarily eased from the permanent gray fog that had rolled in one morning and never left. Like a buzz of something good, something warm and intoxicating I could get lost in for an hour or two. A chance to feel something other than gray.
“We can forget this happened, if that’s what you need. Nothing has to change, we can get you an Uber and pretend on Monday this never happened,” Ben began to babble, coming undone all over again. A pink flush appeared across his cheeks, his hands running through his hair. Nervous Ben was kind of cute.
“I mean this wasn’t what I was expecting, but… I don’t think I want that,” I responded, putting the poor boy out of his misery with a small, reassuring smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he said, the voice coming out crackled before he cleared his throat with a single hoarse cough. “Yes, I’m good.” He awkwardly shifted on his feet, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he looked down at the ground. My heart squeezed traitorously at the sight, not sure if I should reassure him further or if he was starting to regret the kiss.
“Maybe… I should go home,” I offered. The words tasted sour as I said them. But one look at his face–the immediate glance up, his eyes holding onto mine followed by his mouth opening and then closing, his throat bobbing as if he’d forced himself to swallow his words–told me exactly what I’d been hoping for. “Or,” I added, that invisible cord between us pulling tight, a familiar tug back to him forcing me forward.
“Or?” A sly grin lit up his face, a grin that only hours ago would’ve irked me to the ends of the earth, but now sent small tingles down to the base of my spine. “We could go back to mine?”
I let his words hang in the air for a moment, waiting for a voice in my head to kick in, tell me no or remind me of the hundred different ways this was a terrible idea. But… nothing. Because it wasn’t just the hunger for another taste caused by one look at him, with his shirt half undone and his usually perfect hair ruffled, but also the wanted distraction. For one night, I could dive head first in, turn off my brain and truly escape. Get myself lost in a tangle of sheets and pleasure.
“We should set ground rules,” I reasoned. The last thing I needed was either of us thinking this was more than it was, more than what I needed.
“Sensible as ever, Ms. Davis,” he said, taking a step forward, his eyes holding a playful glint.
“Like that. That can’t happen,” I said, pointing a finger up and down. I ignored his step closer to me, staying exactly where I was as the distance between us closed slowly. “There can’t be any work talk. Not even an acknowledgement.”
“So, no calling you Ms. Davis.”
“Exactly,” I said as he took another small step closer.
“Even if I enjoy the look you give me when I call you that?” He wiggled his eyebrows and I rolled my eyes.
“Especially if you enjoy it.”
His grin was incomparable, radiating with wicked joy.
“Well, that’s no fun.” He stepped forward again, with all the cunning of an animal on the hunt, prey on target. Mirroring him, I took a step back, keeping the distance between us.
“Well, that is the point of this. Fun. That’s all this is. Get this,” I said, pointing again between us, “this tension out of the way.”
“Get it out of our systems, once and for all,” he agreed, with a nod of his head, his eyes dark with hunger and glued to me like I was his next meal.
“Exactly.” Hot pleasure ran through me at the agreement. “So do you…?”
“Live nearby?” he finished. I nodded, both of us refusing to break eye contact for a moment as the air turned thick and heavy, as that need, that longing, returned and I felt the weight of the night lifting. “A few blocks, five minutes walk?”
“And if we run?” I didn’t think that wide grin could grow, but I swear it nearly doubled as he broke into a light laugh, flames alight in his eyes.
“Eager are we?”
“Only to see if you work that mouth as well as you do when we argue’” I smirked back at him, just as he broke eye contact, peering down the street.
“Seems I have some expectations to live up to.” His eyes bore into me, his hand rising to the side of my face, fingertips caressing softly down my cheek before meeting my jaw line, and then oh so carefully, tilting my neck up, his other hand snaked behind my neck, his thumb on my throat.
“Or a lot to make up for,” I mumbled.
He didn’t seem to disagree with me as he dipped low, closing the gap between us once and for all.
The journey to his apartment would have been short if it hadn’t been for all the pausing to sneak kisses and soft touches all the way up the sidewalk, –and a couple of dimly lit side streets. Ben had pressed me up against the cold brick, trapping me between his arms, his head dipping down to meet my lips. He was insatiable, and I wasn’t much better.
We finally arrived at a new style apartment block, large, darkened windows lining the walls of the building. I spotted his familiar black Audi parked outside, grinning as I realized we’d reached our destination.
A lump formed in my throat as he stepped ahead and pulled open the heavy glass door. He paused, looking at me, his eyes concerned when he noticed I hadn’t moved.
Was this really what I wanted? A night alone with the master of all that had been horrible in my professional life? Did it make me a massive hypocrite, after years of swearing he was the devil in a very attractive skin suit, going back to his apartment after one night of making out on the street? What would they think if it ever got out at school? I could immediately imagine the faces of some of the other members of staff, the judgment. Sleeping with a co-worker was bad enough; let alone one you’ve had a very public distaste of.
But he wasn’t who I thought he was. He’d proven that tonight. He was arrogant certainly, but after seeing him with his class, after learning he’d given up improvements to his classroom and come up with a way to temporarily save the clubs, he’d shown me he was more than an enemy. He could have just shrugged it off when I left in a rush, but he’d followed to check if I was okay, and stayed when he realized I wasn’t.
And now I was following him inside for a night of torrid, no strings attached sex.
I pondered on the idea for a moment, enjoying the slick hot feeling that wrapped itself around me. My mind conjured up an image of how it would look to wrap my body around him, the feel of his mouth against the sensitive skin between my legs. The promise of the bulge I’d felt lightly on the way here.
I looked up at him; his eyes were on me.
“Are you coming inside? Or I can call you a car. If you’ve changed your mind.” His words were apprehensive, as if he hated the sound of them as much as I did. And for a moment, I didn’t know which way I was going to go. If I was going to take him up on his offer, nod gently his way and apologize for leading him on. There would be plenty of rideshares around. It wouldn’t take long, and then I’d be home, stuck in my childhood room, in that small bed, lying awake staring up at the ceiling all night. Alone, mind wide awake thinking about everything; about her.
Instead, I bit my lower lip, shaking my head slightly as I took a step forward. He pulled the door open again, and I squeezed past him, walking into the lobby.
We’d barely made it through his apartment door, before he turned, and pressed me up against the hard wall, thankfully avoiding any light switches or hung pictures. His body was firm against mine as I enjoyed the pressure of being trapped against him. His head hung low as his lips met mine again, rough and hard and needing, as if the small break had driven his lust to new heights.
Ben pulled away momentarily, just to rip off his jacket and toss it away, before he stood before me. He leaned down and slowly put his hands on the outside of my thighs before he ran his hands up, pushing the red material higher. Every single inch of my skin claimed drove me nuts, the feel of his palms against my soft skin, the feel of the edge of the dress slowing growing shorter.
Then, he hoisted me up in one clean motion, his hands pulling me up. Without a second thought, my legs wrapped around his waist, my dress pushing up to my waist as I pulled his body against mine, as finally I found myself level with his beautiful face. The weight in my stomach dipping for a moment as I adjusted to the movement.
We paused momentarily, looking straight at each other. I could barely see him in the dim light of the unlit hallway, the only source of light a window that looked out onto the street below. But I could still see his eyes, all color gone and his pupils dilated with want, with need and lust.
He wanted me. And as if I needed more confirmation of it, I finally became aware of what pressed into the center of me now as I wrapped around him. Thick hot pressure, and I was suddenly reminded of all those times I’d found myself wondering how exactly it would look, what the source of all that obvious self-assurance and swagger would feel like. I’d immediately dismissed the inappropriate thoughts, wondering what the hell had happened to me to be daydreaming about Ben Bennett’s penis.
But now I was in exactly the position to find out. The luscious anticipation felt like it would crack me open, and I wasn’t exactly sure who or what would be unleashed by the answer.
I melted against him as our lips rejoined, his fingers pressing hard into my thighs as mine pulled at the material of his shirt, craving more and more skin, needing more and more of him. He grinned against my lips, obviously catching on to what I was trying to do.
With no warning, he pulled away from the wall, his arms wrapping around my torso to keep me attached like a spider monkey. With impressive pace, he marched through the apartment to his bedroom.
Slowly, he laid me down on his soft bed. The sheet smelled like fresh cotton and something familiar I couldn’t place my finger on while he eased away from me, still standing over me as I laid across the bed. Looking down at me, that look in his eyes told me, promised me that I was about to enjoy very much what was about to take place. I could barely look away from him, already missing the feel of him against me. Hot anticipation built as I imagined the weight of him pressing down on me.
I needed him. Needed and wanted only him. His weight and pressure, and that thick promise of all good things to come that hung between his legs.
“Take those off,” he ordered, motioning to my shoes. I didn’t dare to argue as I kicked my shoes off.
“It should be illegal for your ass to look like it does in this dress,” he grumbled as he started to undo his shirt, his fingers stumbling over the small buttons. I didn’t bother to fight the pleased grin that crawled onto my lips.
“You’ve never seemed to have a problem with them before, but it’s good to know you’re an ass man.” He only managed to undo the top buttons of his shirt before impatience got the best of him; his hands went to the bottom, and he pulled the material over his head. My mouth practically watered at the sight of him. He was all deliciously large: firm muscle and smooth skin.
“You don’t know the half of it, Olive.”
He didn’t give me any time to think before he leaned down, getting on his knees at the side of the bed. Effortlessly, he pulled me into position, dragging me down the bed, until my backside met the edge, legs resting on his large shoulders as my heart leaped at the sight of him above me. A wicked grin was painted on his lips.
“I can’t wait to taste you.” he said huskily, his attention on the bottom of my dress. His hands slid up, pushing the material up past where it had fallen down to my thighs to reveal my underwear. He kept pushing, my bottom lifting to give him access as he pushed higher, his hands skimming past the dip and curve of my hips.
Momentarily, I pushed myself up to give him access to the top half, allowing him to pull the red material over my head, before discarding the material completely.
He sat before me, his gaze raking across me, from my collar bone, my bra, my stomach. It felt like he took every inch of me in, before with a heated gaze, he says one word.
“Beautiful,”
Then he pulled under my knees again, catching me off guard as he dragged me to the edge of the bed again, forcing my back down to the bed. I almost passed out when he pressed his hand against my lacy underwear, the dampness in-between my legs growing in anticipation as my fingers twisted into the sheets, needing to grip something as if I was holding on for dear life.
“I’ve always fucking wondered what you taste like, Olive.”
I could barely hear him as his lips skimmed down the skin of my thighs, the touch nearly driving me over the edge as he made contact with my softness. I swore out loud, but he kept talking and I burned hotter with every word.
“We’d be in mid argument. You’d be saying something annoying and a little thought would pop into my head, curious about how you’d feel against my tongue, the noises you’d make,.”
My breathing was deep and labored as the tension built further, his face hovering over my underwear. He curled his fingertips under one side of the material, pushing it to the side.
Instantly, I shot up, cheeks turning red as I started. To say I’d been less than prepared for this was more than an understatement.
“Oh fuck, it’s… it’s been a while, and I just haven’t bothered,” I babbled, trying to make him understand, praying praying praying this wouldn’t turn him off. It had been at least six months since I’d last slept with somebody, and when the nights grew long and lonely, I’d begun to grow a little lazy and comfortable and shaving had become an afterthought. He shook his head, eyes practically black as he looked down at me.
“Don’t apologize, Olive,” he smirked, dipping lower again. “I prefer your pussy like this.”
And then his warm, wet tongue dragged against me, licking slowly and oh so pleasurably. He lapped me up, and
I. Lost. My. Mind.
A breathy moan escaped my lips, followed by another and another as he kept running his tongue across me, the feel of his mouth against me completely overpowering. A firm touch of his calloused fingertips pushed my thighs open wider for him. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as delicious pressure built higher and higher between my legs.
His hand moved from holding me in position, and reappeared at my entrance, two fingers pressing inwards but not all the way, no further than his fingertips. He held them in place and it was too much not to move against him, desperate for the fucking feel of him inside of me as his mouth worked. The rhythm of his mouth matched that of my hips as his fingers slowly, slowly, slowly eased deeper inside, stretching me out while giving nothing away and entirely making me work for it, making me ride his hand the way I wanted it. And God, did I.
For a moment, he raised his head, looking up at me with a glistening, undeniable grin, and I took the opportunity to push up into my right elbow and reach down to where his hand pressed against me. I wrapped my hand around his wrist, guiding and showing him exactly how I wanted him against me. I pressed him further in, showing him the pace I needed until I began to lose all ability to function, wild waves of pleasure crashing over me.
“You want it rougher?” he asked, eyebrows pushed up as the grin turned into surprise lined with awe and a fiery heat that told me he loved the idea as much as I did.
“Yes,” I said, the word coming out breathy and desperate as I closed my eyes as I imagined how it looked, watching his fingers pump in and out of me. Wild. I was absolutely wild for him.
“Good girl.”
His words nearly pushed me over the edge as he pressed his mouth against me again, rougher this time, and sucking perfectly on all the right places. He kept up the pace and pressure, working me harder as the knot inside me grew tighter.
“I’m gonna come,” I gasped, managing to break past the involuntary moans.
“Come for me. I want to feel you against my face,” he said, barely raising his head up from my sex to speak. I lost it, completely and utterly unraveled as the knot, that feeling and pressure loosened and tightened at the same time, waves of pleasure rolling into me, over and over.
He didn’t stop, kept up the pace. Not a moment to let me breathe or recover as I kept moaning and moaning, head pushing back into bed and it started to feel like this moment would never end, that this intensity would continue till I tapped out or simply just passed out from orgasm overload.
“Ben.” His name was a sin on my lips, and slowly he pulled away, letting me melt into the mattress. It took me a moment to recover, a moment to remember exactly who was in-between my legs, grinning up at me like the devil.
“Fuck, that was good,” I murmured, still trying to collect the pieces of myself back up again, my mind dizzy and spinning off center. Who knew Ben Bennett could use that mouth of his so well for something other than arguing with me? Who knew oral could feel that toe-curlingly good?
“Was?” He smiled hungrily as he wiped his mouth against his arm, cleaning away some of the wetness that glimmered in the low light. “Don’t tell me you’re done for?” He pulled himself up from the edge of the bed, crawling up beside me and lying on his side as he looked me up and down, eyes catching on the plain black bra I was still wearing. “Because Olive, I’m far from finished with you. If I only get one night, I’m going to make sure I work every bit of it I can.”
This time it was my turn to grin at him.
“Hell no,” I said, getting up and softly pushing him onto his back, taking him completely by surprise. I swung one leg over him, so I sat on his lower belly, being careful not to press my entire weight onto him. I was reminded again then of his thick cock nudged in-between my thighs, and it took more strength than I had left not to let myself grind against it, against him, feeling the length of him against me.
He could barely get words out as I worked myself over him, feeling him trapped against the thin material of his underwear as I rocked over him, working the length of him, enjoying immensely how he looked wrapped up in lust, the need for me etched clearly on his face.
I wanted to let him suffer, let him yearn a little longer but my own self-control had long evaporated by this point.
“Do you have condoms?” The question was breathy, barely audible as the words fell out of my mouth. My own eyes were closed as I grinded hard against him, trying to make it as hard as possible to get him to answer me.
“Top drawer,” he answered, the words laced with a frustration that brought a pleased smirk to my lips. I lifted myself off him, giving him the space to move so he could remove his underwear. I was glued to the sight of him as I watched it all in slow motion, electricity buzzing under my skin as I watched his thumb dip under the elastic at the top before pulling down, exposing more and more pale, unblemished skin.
I felt like I’d been trapped on a deserted island, with nothing but a diet of coconuts and fish to survive on for the last eternity. A person, starved and starving, now looking at the most delicious and picturesque Thanksgiving feast as my eyes danced over the length of him, the girth.
I watched helplessly as he rolled on the condom and pulled out a bottle of lube, applying it for good measure. Then, in one swift motion, I was back on top, refusing to give up the position, to give up control.
I wanted to fucking torture him. To hear him groaning underneath me, to go slow when all he wanted was for me to fuck him fast and hard and… all that went straight out the window as I lowered myself onto him, slowly, trying to let myself get used to the feel of him inside of me–adjust to the thickness of his cock.
I moaned loudly, the sound almost primal as I rocked, working him deeper and deeper, the tight pressure feeling so unbelievably good it had me seeing stars, gasping for a full breath.
“Fuck, you feel incredible.” His words were barely more than a growl as I looked down at him.
“Don’t feel so bad yourself,” I said breathlessly.
His eyes opened, connecting with mine as I shot him a cocky smile, before grinding forward, deeper than before, and I swear that boy’s eyes rolled back in his skull.
I was enjoying it, the power, the control. Enjoyed making myself feel good on him, using him as much as he was using me. Years of built up tension were finally reaching a boiling point. I’d always thought this point would result in a murder, never thought for a second it would end up with us tangled up like this. Never thought for a second I’d be riding him, controlling every motion and exacting my payback by toying with his pleasure.
But I had to admit, I certainly preferred this method of working it out.
I kept a steady pace, moving my hips front to back, up and down, enjoying every single sound that escaped him and the looks that crossed his features. All the while, I was fighting the urge to go harder, rougher. I was fighting the need to give my body exactly what it was crying out for.
What it demanded was to go over that closely nearing edge.
I felt his hands on my hips as he helped me keep the rhythm, helped me rock forward in the way he wanted and felt un-fucking-believable for me too. I kept swearing, not even bothering to keep my curses under my breath. I leaned back, giving it an entirely different angle as I adjusted to the feel of him. I lost myself entirely for a moment, my mind going completely blank as he helped keep the pace.
“Go faster” he begged, pulling me from the space I’d found myself in. My lips curved into a sly smile, knowing the moment I’d been waiting for had finally arrived. “I want you to really fuck me, Olive. The way I know you want to.”
“No,” I shook my head. His eyes shot open, still awash with hot pleasure.
“Why the hell not?” His words shot pure icy delight into me, more erotic than anything filthy he could have whispered.
“You’ll enjoy it too much.”
He cocked an eyebrow, finally realizing what I was doing, why I was holding back. Payback.
“I think someone’s enjoying the power a little too much.”
I smiled, a small chuckle escaping my lips as I kept the same pace, refusing to give into the pull of his hands on my hips.
Then without any warning, his left hand moved from my hips and planted behind my shoulder. He pulled down so I was chest to chest with him, my face buried in his neck. Instantly, I pushed back, trying to regain the position, but he had me trapped against him.
His right hand had seized the opportunity, pressing on my lower back as he thrust wildly up and up, fucking me from below, holding me as close as possible as he sped up. I was powerless, completely powerless to him, to the pleasuring building up inside of me. He was still below me, but he was very much in control, every thrust forcing me closer to the cusp. Rushing towards it. That knot inside of me pulled tighter and tighter, impossibly so, the edge coming towards me now.
I wanted to fight, wanted to regain the control he’d stolen from me but it felt too fucking good. I was losing my mind, losing all conscious thought when he finally pushed up, flipping us over so he was finally above me, his cock still buried in me.
“Did you have fun? Teasing me like that?” he asked, but I didn’t have enough tangible thought to respond, every brain cell buzzing on the feel of his dick moving inside me. “Did you enjoy using me, Olive?”
I was going to come again. I was going to come again and it was going to be hard. I gasped, trying to find the words, my nails trailing down his back, digging into his skin as I held on for dear life. That didn’t slow him down, he kept his rapid pace, his body rocking into me.
“Well, it’s my turn to use you now.”
He grabbed onto my hair and forced my gaze up to meet his. His eyes were pure black, his lips in a thin smile that made my pussy pull tighter against his cock.
“You’re all mine, Olive Davis. You and your pussy are mine.”
I’d never had anyone talk to me like this, never seen a hint of this side of him. And the very idea I was his should have me rebelling against him, but instead, my traitorous legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer if it was even possible, and spreading my hips open wider. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Was it supposed to feel this fucking good?
“Which means you have to ask to come. You have to ask me before, Olive.”
“I… I… Ben, please,” I mumbled, the ache undeniable and uncontrollable. I needed the release, I was there. My mind was begging to let go, but I couldn’t. Not without him.
Fuck you was the only intelligible thought I was really capable of having.
“Please what, beautiful? You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
“Please!”
“Please, what?”
His grip on my hair tightened, forcing me to look up at him again as he pushed in and out and my grasp was loosening, the dam threatening to break as I swallowed, trying to collect myself for one moment before I blacked out.
“Please… please let me come.”
The four simple words felt like an accomplishment but they were nothing compared to the intense pleasure that had built up. I needed this and only this.
He took a moment, his lips twisting in a smirk. “Then come.”
A deep, guttural moan escaped me as I unraveled in his arms.
Gone.
Tangled in him, him tangled in me, his arms clenching tight around me.
He buried himself inside of me, his head in the crook of my neck as he sped up to an uncontrollable pace, groans of pleasure escaping him on deep breaths. Finally he collapsed on me, the weight of his hot body nothing against mine.
He lifted his head momentarily, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he spoke.
“Holy shit,” he said.
Holy shit indeed.
