The sun was dipping low over the junior soccer fields when Valentine’s Day finally ended.
Parents were packing up oranges and drink bottles. Kids were running off energy before heading home. Annie stood near the sideline, arms folded, trying to pretend the date on the calendar didn’t sting.

Last Christmas had shattered her world.

Her husband’s long affair had come to light, and the divorce papers arrived weeks later. Since then, she felt like she was relearning how to be a person, not just a mother of two. The Valentine’s decorations around the field made her feel painfully out of place.

Ben noticed her before she saw him.

He always did.

The ref shirt stretched across his sculpted chest, and the warm breeze pushed dark hair away from his forehead. He carried himself with casual confidence, the kind that made every other mother at the field take a second look. Annie had never once taken the bait. Until recently.

Ben approached with that sly smile that made her stomach flip.

“You alright?” he asked, soft and teasing.

“Fine,” she lied.

He bumped her arm lightly with his shoulder.

“I know fine. You’re not fine.”

She tried to keep her voice steady. “Just tired. Long week.”

“Long everything,” he said, looking straight through her. “You doing anything tonight?”

She forced a shrug. “Hotel room. Just me. I booked it last month. Wanted space to think.”

Ben didn’t even blink.

“Invite me.”

The words hit her low and hot, like a tendril of heat curling through her belly. She held his gaze, searching for something playful, but what she found in his eyes was hunger. Familiar, patient hunger he had not acted on all year.

Her voice came out quiet.

“Alright.”

His smile was slow. Triumphant.

“I’ll see you soon.”


---

The hotel room was small but warm, glowing with soft yellow lighting that made her pink nightie look even more delicate. She had barely had time to breathe before someone knocked.

When she opened the door, Ben stood there in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up, a single flower in his hand. The sight struck her speechless.

“This is for you,” he said, offering it without arrogance, without the usual cheeky grin.

The tenderness of it cracked something open inside her.

“Come in,” she whispered.

He stepped close to hug her, and she meant for it to be brief, polite, controlled. Her cheek pressed to his chest, his scent warm and clean. But he didn’t release her. His arms tightened, one hand sliding slowly up her back into her hair.

Annie’s breath caught.

Ben pulled back just a little, enough to tilt her chin between his fingers.

Her pulse fluttered under his touch. He brought his mouth close, close enough that she felt the heat of him, but he stopped right before their lips touched.

“Your call,” he murmured.

The restraint in his voice tore the last thread of her self control.

She grabbed his shirt, fisted the fabric, and kissed him hard.

Ben groaned into her mouth, the sound deep and desperate. The kiss turned hot instantly, tongues moving, bodies pressing, hands exploring with months of denied attraction.

Her back hit the wall gently as he deepened the kiss. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her hips flush to him. She could feel how much he wanted her, full and hard, pressing against her through his jeans.

“You taste better than I imagined,” Ben whispered against her lips, breath unsteady.

“You imagined this?” she breathed, already knowing the answer.

He laughed quietly, kissing along her jaw. “Annie, I’ve imagined this every time you walk onto that field.”

Her knees weakened. He caught her easily.

“Come here,” he said, guiding her toward the bed. His hands were steady but urgent, as if every second mattered.

They fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs and soft gasps. Her nightie rode up her thighs, exposing warm skin. Ben paused only long enough to look at her, really look, admiration and heat pooling in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said softly, brushing a thumb along her hip. “I should take my time, but I’ve wanted you for too long.”

“Don’t apologise,” she whispered. “I want this too.”

That broke him.

Ben kissed down her stomach, slow and reverent, until he was kneeling between her legs. He lifted her thighs over his shoulders, his breath warm on her inner skin. She was already trembling.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and then his mouth found her.

The first long stroke of his tongue made her gasp loudly, her back arching off the bed. Ben held her steady, mouth working her with a mix of devotion and hunger. He alternated soft teasing flicks with deeper, firmer strokes that had her gripping the sheets.

“Oh god… Ben…” she moaned, thighs tightening around his head.

He loved it. She felt him groan against her, the vibration sparking through her spine. He pulled her closer, feasting on her until she could hardly breathe, until the room blurred and her body convulsed around his tongue with sharp, breathless cries.

When she could finally form a thought again, she pushed gently at his hair.
“Come here,” she demanded, pulling him up for a kiss.

She tasted herself on his mouth, and something primal unfurled inside her. She pressed him down to sit, straddled his hips, and sank onto him slowly, inch by inch. His head fell back, a helpless sound leaving his throat.

“Annie…” he gasped, grabbing her hips.

She rocked into him, rhythm deep and confident, skin slapping lightly, breath mingling with desperate sounds. His hands explored every curve, every soft place, squeezing lightly, possessively. His mouth found her breasts, kissing and sucking until she whimpered his name and rolled her body harder against him.

“Annie, I’m close, I’m so close,” he warned, and that drove her over the edge again. She cried out, shuddering around him, and he held her tight as he followed, groaning against her shoulder.

They collapsed together in a warm, tangled heap, breathing hard, laughing quietly, kissing whatever skin they could reach.

Later they curled under the blankets, watching a movie but mostly touching, lazy kisses, fingertips tracing ribs and hips, the kind of closeness that felt impossible hours earlier.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.


---

Annie woke to wet heat and slow, focused pressure.

She blinked down to see Ben nestled between her thighs, nightie bunched around her waist, his mouth moving with steady intention. He smiled when she gasped and pushed her hips toward him.

“Good morning,” he murmured before returning to her now tingling pussy, tongue circling and teasing until her breaths turned sharp and needy. Still slightly groggy from sleep she moaned, only registering the absolute pleasure building as his tounge and fingers mercilessly worked together to make her whimper.

“Ben… please… I want you,” she begged, gripping his hair. His soft chuckle tickled her, his hands moving away.

He pulled back slightly, lips slick, eyes dark with desire.

“Shower first.”

He stood and walked away. She stared for a second, outraged and turned on, then scrambled out of bed, stormed into the bathroom, and pushed open the glass shower door.

Ben turned at the sound.

Annie stepped in with him, water trickling across both their bodies. He didn’t hide the grin.

“Couldn’t wait?”

“Not even a little.”

She pressed her body to his. Ben lifted her instantly, one hand gripping her thigh, the other sliding up to hold her throat gently, thumb brushing her pulse. Annie had never been held like this, so firm and forceful. She gasped, looking into his blue piecing eyes before letting a smile play on her lips as she accepted.

He pinned her to the tiled wall and thrust into her in one smooth, hungry movement. She moaned loud enough that the sound echoed. Her legs locked around him, hands gripping his shoulders as he pounded into her with deep, powerful strokes that shook her entire body. His grip on her throat tightened as he fucked her, soft moans escaping as her vision started to cloud with dancing stars. She opened her eyes to look at him once more, his lips parted and eyes narrowed with focus. His lips curled up into a smirk as he locked his eyes on hers, then dropped his head with a low moan indicating that he was getting close.

Her climax hit fast, sharp, unstoppable. She cried out his name, shaking in his arms as he held her through it. Ben buried his face in her neck, thrusting harder until he came with a low, guttural groan that vibrated against her skin.

He held her there, chest against hers, breathing heavily as warm water washed over them.

And for the first time in a very long time, Annie felt wanted.

Not pitied.

Not rescued.

Wanted.