HOLA, my lil muffins!!! How’re y’all? I’m good. Thanks for asking. This chapter should be PG 15 or above!! Lmao. Love you guys!! -Mel <3
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We stumbled through the motel door, lips locked in a passionate conversation. Ben immediately closed the door, shoving me into it. My head roughly hit the door and whined out in pain.
"Sorry," he murmured in between our kisses. I just shushed him, pulling his shirt off. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen Ben without his shirt, but it never ceases to amaze me on how amazing he looks.
Ben backed up from the door, taking me with him to the crappy bed with lord knows how many stains.
“You know, technically I can’t take you over the border of this state without permission from your legal guardian,” Ben huskily whispered, climbing on top of me. Goosebumps ran down my arms as a chill racked through my body.
Ben grabbed my white shirt, pulling it up. It slipped off with ease as Ben groaned. Confusion overtook my face for a second before it cleared up.
“God, you’re so... there aren’t any words to explain it. You’re just you, and that’s more than enough,” he buried his head in between my shoulder and neck, attacking the skin there with his lips. I could feel his hands explore my stomach, resting on my ribs right below my breast.
I laced my tingling fingers through his soft, brown hair and tugged. This man would be the death of me.
Ben’s right hand slowly wandered down until he reached the waistband of my leggings. He began tugging, but I stopped him.
“Ben, I don’t want to undress,” I shakily told him. His eyebrows scrunched together.
“How do you expect me to give you pleasure if you won’t let me see your body?” He chuckled, poking my cheek that was heating up. I rolled my eyes at him.
It’s not that I was insecure, but I wasn’t very fond of my body. No girl was. I was short and fat. My thighs were adorned with red, ugly stretch marks on the insides of my thighs and on the outside leading up to my lower cheeks. My hips were larger than most people’s, and it wasn’t in a good way. To me, I was a mess. To Ben, I was a masterpiece.
“My queen, I want you, all of you. I don’t care if you’re sixty and have wrinkles. You’ll always be mine. You’ll always have my heart. Your insecurities are my favorite parts of you. Don’t hide when you should be showing off how imperfect you are because the imperfections are the things that draw me in,” Ben pecked my forehead as the mood was officially ruined. A tear escaped my right eye, and thankfully Ben didn’t catch it in the dim lights. The thing Ben did catch though was the sniffles that escaped my nose.
“I’m sorry that I’m not what I should be, what I strive to be,” I whispered before getting out of Ben’s hold. I wandered to the bathroom and made sure to lock the door. I stripped, wanting a nice, hot shower.
“Don’t hide in the bathroom, my queen. I want all of you, including the parts you wish were gone,” Ben hollered through the wooden door. I could hear the sound of a click which I assumed was the lock. I rolled my eyes at him.
“Ben, no,” I strictly told the man I loved.
“Too late,” his arms wrapped tightly around my waist from behind. I turned in his arms, and to my surprise, he wasn’t looking down there or anywhere other than my eyes.
“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he said in a hushed voice. I gulped down the lump in my throat. Ben was getting his perfectly dry clothes, that he still had on, soaked.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to look. I do because I know you’ll worship every part of my body, but I can’t worship myself, and it hurts more than you not being able to love my body,” I admitted, looking at my tainted thighs.
“I want a direct answer. Can I love your body? Will you let me praise the gods that I found you?” Ben questioned. My throat felt dry from the need in his eyes. He needed to love my body.
“If you want to look, you can,” I quietly murmured. Ben trailed his eyes down my body until they met the stretch marks on my inner thighs.
“I won’t say anything about them other than utterly imperfect but breathtakingly beautiful,” Ben murmured, leaning in to kiss my lips. He then trailed kisses down my drenched body until he was on his jean clad legs. His face was near the most intimate part of my body, but he didn’t care about that. He cared about praising my imperfections, my stretch marks.
Laying kisses on the little devils, he gripped my hips in his hands. He held me still with his eyes and his hands. I wasn’t moving though. I was frozen. I was his.
“I love you so much. I will never get over how you make me feel,” he said, now moving his attention to the right thigh on the outside. He paid his attention to the marks there, leaving slow, agonizing kisses there.
Eventually, I had enough. I grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him up. I slammed my lips on his and pushed him against the shower wall. He let a chuckle slip past his lips.
“We should tell them we’ll have a late check out,” Ben flipped us so that I was pushed against the wall and attacked my lips with his once more.
We didn’t go all the way, but it was enough for me. Just knowing that I was his was enough for me.