Nina Ch. 02

"Are you finished?" he asked simply.

She nodded.

Ben wanted Nina to respond verbally. He was on the verge of making a jibe about their encounter at the gym, where he and Carter had told her to count aloud as they punished her with a spanking, but he thought better of it and swallowed the words.

In her bedroom, she had been so responsive to one kind of behavior. He wondered if she would prefer a different kind of treatment for the evening.

Ben had shown her he wanted her earlier. Now he would show her he wanted her to want him; he hoped she would want to come out of her shell around him.

After all, this was for the both of them.

"Would you like to come out there with me?"

She masked it quickly, but he caught the look of surprise that played over her features. She smiled tentatively, and he admired her little dimples, just below the apples of her cheeks.

"Okay," she said, her voice full of caution and-he thought, but wasn't sure-pleasure.

He opened the sliding glass door for her onto the patio, where a few yards away the fire danced in its large, black pit. Faces turned toward them, ovals lit up by the flames.

Ben didn't take her hand, but he stayed close beside her as they approached. She looked at him automatically, it seemed, and he sat on a vacant bench, leaving room for her. A change in the atmosphere rippled around the group as they noted this development. Bethany couldn't hide her smile. Tomas looked surprised, and not particularly pleased.

Talk gradually resumed. Ben was happy to keep up his end of several conversations, occasionally dropping a glance at Nina, who sat fairly quietly beside him, staring into the fire. The light was very becoming for her auburn hair, which framed her face and trailed down past her shoulders. Her eyes reflected the flames. With her focus so lost to her inner thoughts, her expression took on an open quality Ben had only seen once before, in Carter's gym.

The wine was gone by ten o'clock, and people started to trickle back inside. In two days, most of them would be heading away for the backpacking trip. Tomorrow they would spend some time planning and would go to sleep earlier.

"Ben? Did you make up your mind?" asked Dominic, one lanky arm around Bethany's shoulders.

"I'm afraid I won't be joining you. I have some things to take care of."

Nina felt like a jolt of electricity had gone through her. Was she the 'some things' that he was going to take care of? Suddenly she was all nerves again. She and Ben would be alone in the house for nearly three days.

The next day, Nina ran hot and cold from one hour to the next. She made a breakfast of French toast and sliced fruits for everyone. She walked with the others to a nearby pool, where once again she stayed in the sun, reading. She even got out her drawing book and doodled, trying to let her thoughts untangle themselves with every swish of her pencil. It was no good.

She tried to avoid Ben without it seeming like she was avoiding him, but that was no good, either. By lunchtime he had made it clear he'd noticed her reluctance to engage with him. She waited for him to say something, but he didn't. She thought he was being nice and giving her space; then she thought he was making her agonize over what he might say next.

As Tomas, Nate, and Dominic made dinner-beet salad with goat cheese, roast potatoes, and salmon-several of the others were either packing or checking the rations for their trip the next day. Vic and Felicia were experienced backpackers, and they had planned well in advance.

Nina sat on the sectional, watching the activity with a detached interest until she felt a weight settle beside her, startling her.

"Don't worry," said Ben pleasantly. "I'll leave you alone in a minute. I just wanted to remind you that we have three days together to work through things."

Nina couldn't say anything. She just nodded.

"You know what I want," he murmured, his eyes pinning her and a small smile appearing on his face.

Nina she squirmed in her seat.

Ben leaned slightly in toward her, resting his hand on her thigh. Nina found herself leaning in, too, wishing he would slide his hand further up her leg, waiting for what he was going to say-

"Answers."

He stayed just long enough to see the color drain from her face before squeezing her leg and getting up to set the table.

Twenty-four hours later, Nina couldn't take the waiting anymore. She had taken advantage of the bustle of everyone leaving to have a breakfast uninterrupted by Ben, though her body was hyperaware of his every move. In the kitchen, he passed behind her to grab something from a cabinet, and she found herself standing completely still, willing him to brush against her. But he didn't.

After a long, solo walk, Nina returned and didn't find Ben at the house. She made a sandwich and sat on the patio in a beach chair someone had hauled out from the garage, soaking in the sun until she couldn't bear the heat and feared even her SPF 50 had given up protecting her.

She felt hot and sticky, so after a cooling shower, she was changing in her room when a knock sounded against the door.

She almost asked, "Who is it?" but obviously it was Ben. With her towel wrapped around her, she opened her door to him.

"I thought I'd make dinner tonight. How do you feel about pasta with meatballs, sauteed veggies, and some of that salad leftover from last night?"

Ben's presence seemed somewhat diminished. Upon a more careful inspection, it seemed to Nina like he was just being very... polite. Almost reserved.

"That sounds good," she said, nodding. "Thanks."

Ben nodded back and made to leave.

"Um," Nina said. Ben paused, turned back, and waited for her to continue.

"Um, it seems like y... It feels..." But the words wouldn't come, and she felt self-conscious. What was she trying to express?

Finally, she just said it. "It seems like, maybe... Is everything okay?"

"With me?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, I mean, you know, you're..." Nina made a gesture that she hoped conveyed "calm" or "chill" or some equivalent feeling that seemed to be hanging on Ben.

One corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile, but he sounded serious as he said, "I'm just trying to make you comfortable."

It was almost a challenge.

"Well, I am, though," she responded.

He took a step closer to her. "Really?"

She nodded uncertainly.

"No," he said with deadly quiet. "You're not." It seemed to Nina like he filled the hall; like the air around them was close and hot. The towel felt thin and scratchy and like it wanted to fall to the floor.

Nina made an admission then, one she knew she couldn't take back: "I don't mind."

As soon as she said it, she held her breath, wondering how he would respond. Surely, he would be shocked-perhaps even a little disgusted. She felt dirty. What kind of woman liked a man who made her feel uncomfortable?

But Ben just stood there. He made a show of looking her up and down as she stood there clutching the towel, until at last he said, almost tenderly, "I know you don't."

As he walked up the hall to the rest of the house, he heard Nina's breath whoosh out of her. He could still go back, he thought. It would be easy to take the towel from her. She would want him to do that. She was probably thinking about it now, as she supposedly got dressed. Perhaps she was even sitting in her room, on her bed, touching herself. He thought about the last time he had seen her pussy.

Ben was halfway down the hall to her room before he stopped himself and headed back to the kitchen. But he noticed it took until dinner was almost ready for Nina to come out of her room.

She started to set the table, but he called out to her, "You feel like watching a movie?" He thought she might want a distraction over dinner, something to take her mind off of what might be happening between them later.

"Yes," she said vehemently. She pinked at how the word had come out and added more calmly, "That's a good idea."

They carried plates upstairs to the only television in the house, an old monster that still used VHS. Nina set her plate down and pored over the stacks of tapes.

"I think this one," said Ben at her shoulder, pulling one out from the pile.

Nina read the title: Secretary.

"I've never seen it," she said. The picture on the front gave her a clue about the story.

"Look it over."

She did, feeling his eyes on her and his closeness as she read the back cover. When she was finished she handed it to him wordlessly.

Though the food was probably delicious, there was simply no room for either of them to pay it much attention.

Ben saw that Nina had put on another tank top and wore black lightweight sweatpants. He had invited her to sit near him on the small couch, though not so near that their bodies touched, and his eyes swept across the swell where her breasts were revealed by cut of her shirt.

The first scenes of the movie were fairly innocuous, if dealing with serious subject matter, but Ben felt himself getting excited at the thought of watching upcoming scenes with Nina-or more accurately, watching Nina's reaction to them. They had already finished and set aside their plates when the lawyer started to interview the applicant for the secretary position.

When the lawyer said, "There's something about you," Ben felt Nina freeze in her seat. She stared at the unfolding scene with wide eyes.

Ben touched her arm, and she flinched. "Doing okay?" he murmured.

She nodded, withdrawn. Just as he had expected. He knew this would get to her.

He was not immune to the movie's charms, but he managed not to become highly aroused as they watched. But once or twice, it was a close thing, with Nina's recent admission fresh in his mind. He yearned to lean over and make her a little uncomfortable.

Why shouldn't he?

As the lawyer commanded his secretary to lean over his desk, Ben turned his head very purposefully. Nina glanced at him. He stared, watching the light from the television flicker over her face.

The scene played out, but Ben watched as Nina became more agitated, her eyes darting between his and the movie. At first she just gave him a fleeting smile, as if to say, Funny joke, you've had your fun. But when he kept his level gaze aimed at her, she couldn't ignore it.

Her pupils were already large in the room dimmed with evening, but he thought they became fuller, rounder, as she tried not to look away from him. Then, the first spank landed on screen. Nina's mouth opened in surprise. Her chest was heaving.

Smack, smack, smack. The sound echoed in Ben's head, as it surely did in Nina's, and he knew she was remembering their last encounter. He allowed a look of anticipation to rest on his face. His pants were starting to tighten around his groin. Nina moistened her lips.

When Ben couldn't wait any longer, he took up the remote and hit the pause button. The sudden silence didn't last long; Nina's breathing was audible as she faced him. Under her little shirt, Ben could tell she wore a bra. He wondered what her breasts looked like, how her nipples would feel if he rolled them under his thumbs-took them between his lips-

With a grunt he didn't even know he made, Ben moved forward toward Nina. His strong, eager hand took her leg. She gasped. Gently, he moved it so her hips were square to him and he could slide between her knees as he knelt on the couch and she laid back against a pillow.

Ben was leaning over her, looking down into her solemn face. His eyes roved over her features; as his gaze brushed over her chest again, he felt her quiver beneath him. With his eyes locked onto hers, he lowered his face until his lips were less than a centimeter from her chest.

"Nina," he whispered, his lips barely grazing the soft skin. He could see now her nipples stiffened beneath her bra and shirt. He brushed his mouth over each one. She shuddered. "We need to talk about what's going on."

Nina blinked, breaking their eye contact. He watched her throat contract with her nervous swallow. But he had his upper body firmly planted over hers, and he suspected she would not really fight to get away.

"Nothing's going on," she said at last, almost in a whine.

"Don't lie." Ben kept his voice low and calm.

She tried again. "I don't know." Shrugging, she started to fall apart a little: her eyes traveled the room, landing anywhere but on him, and her legs fidgeted at his sides.

He felt the frustration rising, but it was far away, a tool for him to use. He sat up and gave her a piercing look. "Get onto the floor," he said heavily.

There it was, naked between them. He would order her, and she would... What?

Nina swallowed for what felt like the hundredth time. Without looking at him, she slid off the couch and sat on the floor. When Ben shook his head, Nina knew what he wanted. Reluctantly she came to her knees and planted her hands in front of her on the worn carpet.

Ben said nothing for an eternity, kneeling beside her but sitting back on his heels. She saw the bulge in the front of his pants and sucked in her breath through her nose loudly.

In answer, Ben sighed, a sound that seemed to come from very deep down in his chest. Nina felt strangely small and remote. Perhaps the sigh meant Ben was tired, and she had made him tired. She felt tears prickling in her eyes and swallowed yet again.

Ben moved on his knees until he knelt right in front of her face. His fingers gripped her chin, and he lifted her face. "You're afraid of me?" he asked, seeing the tears.

I don't know, thought Nina desperately. But the truth was, she did know. It was just so hard to speak it. Unconsciously, she clenched her jaw.

"You'll tell me, you know," said Ben. As he resumed his position at her side, he said conversationally, "You never returned my call." Nina felt his large hand rest on her lower back. She knew what was coming. She ducked her head and at the same time pressed her hips back so her ass was even higher off the ground.

"Why didn't you?" he asked her. One hand stayed at her back. The other brushed her hair away from her face so he could crane his neck and look at her better. "Not going to answer me? All right." He braced himself against the floor. Nina tensed.

"Get ready," he said gruffly. "And count."

Smack!

Silence.

"Nina," Ben snapped, "don't make me tell you again, please."

Ben was preparing to strike her again when he heard the thin sound: "One," said Nina. She couldn't see his satisfied grin.

Instead of spanking her, he rubbed his other hand along her back soothingly. "Good," he said.

Then he continued. As he looked down at Nina's form, with her tank top riding up, the swell of her ass feeling firm and lush against his palm, and no underwear line in sight, he welcomed the sensation of his penis becoming more and more engorged. All he had to do was think back on the last time he'd had Nina in this position, and he knew he was well on his way to being at full sail.

Nina had counted to ten. He had spent most of those strokes alternating cheeks. He paused to squeeze one. Nina made a jerking movement; he realized she had been starting to press into his hand and had stopped herself suddenly.

"Push against me," he ordered harshly. With a breath that sounded like relief, Nina complied. "That's right," he said, rubbing his hand over the soft material of her pants, lingering in the divide between the globes of her ass.

"What's going on, Nina?" he whispered again, leaning over her while fondling her butt. She just shook her head. Channeling his ire, Ben straightened and resumed the punishment.

By the time they reached thirty, Nina was clearly uncomfortable. Chastened, Ben realized he had probably been hitting her harder than he and Carter had done. But he was determined to break down this wall. She would confess.

So, she might get a little more uncomfortable, he thought grimly. That's how it is.

With renewed energy, he reached forty, then fifty. He decided she probably wouldn't say anything if she believed he was going to stop soon.

At one hundred, Nina let out a very quiet "Ow."

"But you're not going to say anything else, hmm?"

Nina buried her face in her hands.

Gritting his teeth, Ben yanked her pants down, revealing no underwear. She tightened her legs together in response. The sight was nearly his undoing. "Nina," he said through his gritted teeth. But he didn't dare speak further. Instead, he picked up speed, leaving pink splashes on her white cheeks. He wouldn't leave any kind of bruise, but this would sting.

The memory would sting for long after, he knew. She still counted, but he was intensely focused on the feeling of his palm slapping this round, firm, private part of her.

At one hundred twenty-five, Nina blurted out, "Um."

Ben paused.

"Okay," she said.

"What's going on, Nina? Are you afraid of me, or what?" His voice wasn't demanding. He already knew the answers. He just needed her to confirm them-to admit them to herself. To put it out there.

To be vulnerable.

"No," she began in a whisper. "I'm..."

She trailed off, but Ben had decided he wanted her to face him when she told him. He knew it would make it harder for her, but they would be better for it.

"Lie down, please," he said huskily. He pulled her pants completely off and dragged his hands over her muscular legs, rubbing them, feeling her as he rolled her onto her back. He was still completely clothed, and he didn't lower himself onto her yet. Instead he knelt between her legs. He pulled them up so her bent knees pointed toward the ceiling, and he let his hands trail up and down her thighs, dipping nearer and nearer to her neatly trimmed pussy.

With a great sigh, he lowered himself until his weight rested on one elbow. He looked her directly in the eyes and with his unencumbered hand reached down to cup her ass, massaging gently at the sensitive flesh where her ass and leg met.

"What are you afraid of?" he rumbled, working a finger around her pussy lips. He could feel her wetness making his finger slick. His dick needed to be there, soon.

"I... I'm... I'm, um, you," she panted. "Sorry," she whispered. He saw the tears threatening to spill out.

"Shh, shh," he soothed. "You don't need to be scared of me. I'm not going to hurt you."

She nodded and sniffled, saying, "I know," but he didn't quite believe her.

"What are you afraid of?'

She mumbled something and looked away.

"Hey," Ben said sharply. "Do you need more motivation?"

She shook her head submissively. "No."

"Tell me." Ben felt his whole body tight over her. He was starting to feel urgent need to have Nina stroke him, suck him, anything to quench the hot thirst inside him. He swirled his middle finger around her entrance and pushed inside, looking into her eyes as he did it. They widened a little as though she were struggling against something.

"Nina," he said roughly.

"What I want," she burst out at last. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She was breathing hard, and not all of it was her arousal.

When Ben felt the silence had developed long enough, he asked, "What do you want that you're afraid of?" He pushed a second finger through her slippery, warm entrance, feeling her stretch as he moved his hand around. She moaned softly. He wished he had taken off her shirt. "Hmm?" he continued, pumping his fingers, doing everything he could to take control of her senses, to get her to open up.

"Please," she said.

"No," he said patiently, shaking his head. No, he wouldn't let her go yet. No, he wouldn't satisfy her, not yet. No, he wouldn't stop until he had his answer. She writhed beneath him, writhed against his hand. He held her down with his hip bone and finally-finally!-allowed his rock-hard dick to rub against her through his pants.

"You'll tell me," he said. "And you'll suck me, and you'll take me inside you. Look, Nina-Look at that clock. I'm going to be having sex with you in ten minutes."