She had a high sex drive when attracted to a man, without doubt. But it was a new concept to be unable to keep her hands off her partner. She fumbled with her key in the door. Ben’s chest pressed against her back, his hard cock arching up into the curve of her ass. She didn’t even consciously move, but still she found herself grinding back upon him, moaning as his hands came around to cup her breasts through her shirt. Her hand slipped, the metal teeth of the key scratching a line in the paint of her door. “Fuck,” she cursed. “I intend to,” Ben murmured against the shell of her ear. “The second you open this damn door, babe.” Not deigning to respond to that—for really, what could she possibly say?—Layla tried a second time to open the door. Ben made the usually simple action damn near impossible as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth, his hands squeezing her breasts, his wicked fingers finding her hard nipples with laser-like precision. Her back arched, her eyes fluttered shut as a whimper of need tore free from her throat.
