Being tormented and teased to an incredible orgasm had turned Juliet into a simpering, lustful fool. While Ben did his best to prepare their meal, Juliet touched him, held him, and kissed him as many times as she could manage while he stretched pizza dough over a greased sheet pan and spread a light layer of sauce over the dough. She sat on the counter and grabbed finger-fuls of shredded mozzarella to eat as he sprinkled it over the sauce. They playfully discussed suitable toppings between kisses and tender touches. Juliet openly stole the resulting slices of pepperoni and vegetables Ben was chopping for them until he playfully chopped the knife next to her fingers on the cutting board and made her squeal with laughter.

She perched on the counter and openly enjoyed her view of his broad back and cute butt as he slid their pizza into the preheated oven. He closed the oven door and caught her staring when he turned to face her.

"You're looking at me," he pointed out, self-conscious, but pleased.

"I definitely am," she grinned. "Come over here so I can do something else to you."

Like a besotted moth to a flame, Ben moved across the kitchen and pressed his mouth to hers. She captured him, wrapping him up in her arms and legs and lips, and held him there at her leisure. She kissed his smooth jawline and inhaled just a hint of his aftershave. In his white undershirt and dark boxers, his warm flesh was easily accessible, and her hands dove freely under the fabric and moved exploratorily over his skin. She ruffled his hair, squeezed his rear end, kissed him repeatedly until they were both dizzy with lust, and still it wasn't enough.

Fortunately, Ben couldn't seem to get his fill of her either. He never tired of touching her, holding her, or kissing her breathless. And he was endlessly patient. He accepted everything she gave him like it was a precious gift, and he reciprocated double what he received—never asking for anything more than what she offered freely. He was attentive and responsive to an exquisite degree, and he thrilled her completely.

However, as usual, there one small thing bothering her—and it was ironic, really, because practically no straight woman had ever had this problem, ever, but—no matter how she tried to turn the focus of their pleasurable activities onto him, he reversed course and brought the focus back to her. Every time.

He did it earlier, in her bedroom, going down on her until she was literally begging him to come, and barely letting her touch him once. Then, he opted to cook her dinner instead of having an orgasm, something she didn't know a man could physically do. Now, she was sitting on this countertop, grinding against an erection so rigid it could easily penetrate her through both his boxers and her lacy underwear, and he wouldn't let her at it.

She tried to put her hands on him several times while he prepared the food, wrapping her arms around him from behind and letting her hands wander downward, but to no avail. It didn't matter if he was going soft or if he had a length of concrete in his underwear, he would take her hands and move them, then distract her with stimulating touches and kisses to her own person. Even now, he was unbuttoning his shirt from her body and making an appetizer of her breasts, having learned earlier that she enjoyed this activity to no end. She took a deep breath and tried to focus.

"Ben," she groaned, leaning back and away from him, rescuing her nipples from his intense attention. "How long does that need to cook?" She was talking about the pizza, the whole reason they were here in this stupid kitchen and not holed up in her bedroom.

"I should check it in about twenty minutes," he looked at his watch. "I should set a timer."

He left the warmth of her embrace far too quickly and easily for Juliet's taste, and set a timer on the stove. Juliet took advantage of the moment to button Ben's shirt up over her chest and jump down from the counter. Ben turned and moved towards her, and she reached for his hand.

"Come over here, handsome," she cooed and lead him back to her trusty living room couch. She patted the middle cushion invitingly and Ben sat down dutifully. She was on him like a snake then, straddling his lap and pushing his shoulders back against the cushions. "We have twenty minutes," she giggled at his startled face. "Let me touch you."

"Juliet!" He chuckled. "My goodness!"

She didn't give him time to protest. She leaned in and kissed him fiercely, which he liked and responded to immediately. Then, before he could get too comfortable, Juliet slid backwards down his body and down over his legs. Her knees pressed into the floor on either side of his feet, and her face was in his groin. It was a move worthy of the most talented exotic dancer. Ben's mouth opened but no sound came out.

"Shhh," she pre-emptively shushed him, smiling cheekily up into his stunned expression. She pulled the waistband of his boxers down and freed his stiff cock, exposing him to the open air and finally allowing herself a detailed look at his excellent anatomy.

"Juliet!" he groaned hoarsely. "Wait!"

"It's okay," she soothed him. "Let me do this for you." Her arms were draped over his thighs, and she wrapped her hands around his erection gently. Ben grabbed her wrists in a panic.

"You don't have to—I don't expect you to!" he babbled, his blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

"I know," she slid one hand up over his stomach and rested it over his heart. He kept his hand around her wrist and pressed it against his chest. "But I really want to—don't you want me to?" Juliet smiled up at him warmly, invitingly.

"Yes," he sighed, his expression tortured.

"Then let me," she whispered encouragingly. She stroked him gently with one hand, and he cautiously released her wrist. "Good!" she grinned and stroked him again, bringing her other hand back down to help. He stared in disbelief as she took him into her mouth and began to lick and suckle on him as if he were a delicious dessert.

"Juliet," he gasped her name again. "Oh god! Oh!" His hands moved to her shoulders, then into her hair. He shuddered as she moved her tight mouth over him again and again. "Oh, it's wonderful!" he groaned and thrashed slightly in time with her rhythm. "Argh! I don't deserve this!" he cried, and while Juliet thought he meant it as a compliment, it revealed a dark glimpse into his mind that made her suddenly fiercely protective. You do deserve this. This and more, she thought defiantly. She spread his legs assertively and took him as deeply into her mouth as she could manage without choking. "Juliet!" he howled along with some other nonsense she couldn't decipher. "Oh! I'm going to…" he started to say, fisting his hands in her hair and trying to gently pull her mouth off his cock. "Juliet!" he groaned in warning.

She held him near the back of her throat and swallowed his salty load as quickly as she could. This was no one's favorite part of going down on a man, but the loud, pleasured noises he made, and the way his eyes rolled back into his skull helped make up for anything unpleasant she experienced. She released him gently from her mouth when he was finished and realized he was trembling.

"Hey," she called softly, kissing her way up his shirt, over his stomach and chest. His trembling increased, and his face was pointed at the ceiling. "Ben?" She crawled back into his lap, straddling him and cupping his face in her hands. He had tears in his eyes.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, wiping his eyes and replacing his glasses. "That was incredible," he reassured her. He was still trembling, obviously affected.

Wordlessly, Juliet wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him as closely as possible. She dropped soothing, comforting kisses against his neck and cradled his head on her shoulder. Eventually, he put his arms around her waist and held her tightly. His tremors stopped. He sat back against the couch and studied her patient face.

"Sometimes," he hummed. "Sometimes, I don't react well when good things happen to me. It's like my body isn't sure how to respond."

"Why is that?" she whispered, making soothing strokes over his shoulders and down his arms. She already had some idea, but she wanted him to talk. He sighed and cupped her face with his hands.

"You are so beautiful," he smiled suddenly. "You have no idea how just looking at you affects me."

"I have some idea," she smirked. He laughed lightly then sobered.

"There are a lot of ugly things in my past," he muttered, dropping his hands, his eyes distant. "Many ugly things and too few beautiful things."

Juliet winced in empathy and continued to move her hands over him comfortingly.

"I used to think that I was made only for the ugly things," Ben confessed thoughtfully to the ceiling.

"You're not!" Juliet interjected.

"I know that now," Ben sighed. "But I still have trouble accepting when beautiful things come into my life."

"You said 'I don't deserve this'—is that how you really feel?" she asked him softly. Embarrassment flashed over Ben's features in realization.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me," he spat defensively, tensing under her hands. "I don't want your pity, Juliet!"

"Ben!" she sat back in surprise, still straddling his lap. "I don't! I'm not!" She searched his face, but his expression was hard and his eyes were narrowed.

"I'm aware of how pathetic you must find me in this moment," he snapped. "Poor Ben!" he imitated her inner monologue. "So damaged he can't even receive a blowjob without breaking down about it."

She was about to respond when the timer on the stove began to go off. Juliet suddenly realized the house smelled amazing and her stomach was empty.

"Off, please," Ben brusquely motioned for her to move from his lap.

"Let it burn," she retorted, taking offense to his curt dismissal and refusing to move. "I'm not done talking about this with you," she crossed her arms and stared down at him.

"Juliet, please," he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "At least let me turn off the alarm."

"Fine," she huffed after staring him down for a few seconds. She shifted her weight to the side and swung one leg off him.

He stood immediately, tucking himself away discreetly into his boxers, and moved into the kitchen. Juliet stood up too and watched him go, missing his warmth and the feel of him against her. He turned off the timer and opened the oven door to check on their food.

"It looks done in the middle, but I'm going to broil the top for a few minutes," he announced, sounding like he was on a cooking show.

"Good," Juliet approved, making her way to the counter and finding her abandoned glass of wine. She refilled it from the bottle and took a few healthy gulps. Ben was still facing the oven with his back to her. She picked up his wine glass and approached him cautiously. "Here," she held it out to him. He turned and took it without looking at her, then drank from it deeply. She wondered if she should break the silence, or if she should let him have that responsibility. She waited, but he only stared at the oven, watching their pizza broil. "I'll be right back," she finally burst out, and he looked at her then, startled. Before he could respond, she turned tail and fled for the bathroom.

Behind the safety of the locked bathroom door, Juliet used the toilet and freshened herself up. Her lacy underwear were sodden in the crotch, and she wondered if he would even notice if she changed them. She decided he would, of course, but that he probably wouldn't care. She rolled her eyes. This was not going well. She realized they were only maybe two hours into their weekend together, and already, they were in conflict.

What could she say to him? Juliet wondered. He said he didn't want her to feel sorry for him, or pity him, but she couldn't help but feel deeply sad at his inability to accept anything good happening to him. It made sense, given his history, she thought. She recalled his sweet response when she called him 'special'. Had anyone ever called him that? She was afraid to ask.

Her parents' divorce was brutal, but she still grew up being told she was loved and could be anything she wanted to be. She had Rachel to be her best friend and confidant. Her ex-husband Edmund had been wonderful to her, at first. She imagined her life without that love, without that support. She imagined Ben as a child, living on this remote island with his drunk, abusive father, and she shuddered. All that ugly in his life, and no beauty. It was no wonder why he thought he didn't deserve love or affection. It was no wonder why he literally shook with emotion when someone made him a priority, or took care of his needs instead of their own. Plus, he had love to give, she knew. She thought of Alex and the care Ben took to raise her well. She thought of his dedication to the Island, to his people, and to Jacob.

She could easily love him, Juliet realized with a shock. It would be the greatest pleasure of her life thus far to give Ben as much love and kindness as he could possibly handle. She could fill up all his cold, hurt, empty places with light and affection. She would make his eyes crinkle in the corners the way they did when he was truly happy, show him daily that he was wonderful and he was hers. He would blossom with her, she knew, but none of that was going to happen if she couldn't find a way to talk to him now.

She sat on the edge of her tub and hugged Ben's shirt around her. It smelled like all the best Ben things: his soap, his deodorant, his aftershave, and the scent of his warm body. She tried to imagine how he was feeling, and what she would want someone to say to her in this situation. He had called himself 'pathetic' and 'damaged'. She thought of the last time she felt that way. Ironically, she remembered the day Richard offered her this job on the Island, and how ashamed she was to tell him Edmund had her crushed under his thumb—'pathetic' and 'damaged' were apt descriptors for her prior to coming here.

Well, Juliet decided. No more of that bullshit. Ben was going to feel the strength of her affection, whether he felt he deserved it or not. He was someone who would never take her attention for granted, she knew. He cared for her, and he was loyal in a way her ex-husband could never be. They were going to talk through this, and she was going to make him feel better. They were going to eat some pizza, then she was going to drag him back to her bed. After all, he had promised to let her do dirty things to him later, and it was later.

She stood and smiled at herself in the mirror. She took a second to reapply her lipstick, then left the bathroom.

She made her way from the bedroom to change her underwear, deciding she wanted to be more comfortable. Ben had already seen the matching bra, and she wasn't wearing it anymore anyways. She picked out a basic pair of cotton briefs—navy, to match the fine lines on his shirt—and swapped them with the light-blue lacy pair she wore. Looking around, she saw her white dress at the end of the bed, but noticed Ben's pants were missing from the floor. She realized with some dismay that he had probably put them back on while she was in the bathroom. She shook her head. It didn't matter—she could easily take them off again. Feeling refreshed, she practically bounded into the kitchen to see what Ben was doing with their dinner.

He observed her approach, but said nothing. He was wearing his charcoal khakis again, and his white t-shirt was neatly tucked into them. She could feel his eyes moving over her, assessing. She also saw their pizza was out of the oven, golden brown and de-panned on the cutting board. Ben was in the process of slicing it.

"That looks incredible," Juliet crowed, and Ben smiled, pleased at the compliment. She let her hand brush lightly over his back as she went to the cupboards and pulled out two plates. She handed one to him and helped herself to a couple slices. She picked up her wineglass and took her food to the small dining table. Ben did likewise and followed. They settled down together and Juliet took an eager bite of her pizza. "Oh, wow," she moaned appreciatively. "This is really terrible," she joked, and Ben smirked.

"It's not take-out, but it will have to suffice," he grinned and dug into his meal.

"Oh, who needs take-out?" Juliet scoffed. "If anything, everyone else needs delivery—from us."

Ben chuckled and the tips of his ears turned adorably pink. Juliet had the nearly irresistible urge to kiss them until they turned red, but she restrained herself. They still needed to talk, and she had a feeling Ben wouldn't be receptive to such behaviors until they did.

In the interim, they seemed to have found a momentary truce, and even though they ate in silence, the silence wasn't awkward. Juliet decided more wine would help the mood. She retrieved the open bottle from the counter and tipped the last of it into her glass.

"Don't worry," she said to Ben very seriously. "I have more."

Ben smirked at her.

"Thank goodness," he deadpanned. "My fear was legitimate."

"Would you like white or red?" she called out, moving to the cupboards.

"Red, please," he replied politely.

She pulled a bottle she knew he would like, opened it, and brought it back to the table. She put it down in front of Ben and resumed her seat. While Ben poured his own glass, she finished her pizza and went to get more.

"Another slice while I'm up?" she asked him.

"Yes, thank you," he chirped, following her with his eyes. She put a few slices on her plate and brought them over. He slid two onto his plate with nimble fingers. She sat down again and they continued eating.

"The cheese is all brown and bubbly—good call on that broiler time," she complimented him around a mouthful.

"Thank you," he said again, meeting her gaze shyly. She grinned over at him adoringly, and he looked down at his plate with a small smile.

When she was full, she sat back in her chair with a fresh glass of wine and patted her stomach through his dress shirt. She stretched her long, bare legs under the table and wiggled her toes, happily. Looking over, she caught Ben watching her. She crossed her legs towards him and put one arm over the back of her chair.

"You know," she took a sip of wine thoughtfully. "If I gave you back this shirt, you'd be completely re-dressed."

"Yes," he grinned and caught her eye. "But you would be very undressed."

"Hmm," Juliet pretended to ponder this predicament.

"You're welcome to keep wearing my shirt," Ben offered her benevolently. "I'm fine in this," he motioned to his tee.

"Really?" she asked again, innocently. "You don't want me to take this off?"

Ben's jaw dropped as he suddenly grasped the subtext to their conversation.

"Juliet," he began warningly, his expression darkening.

"I mean, I'm surprised," she continued, casually taking another sip from her glass. "I had the impression you liked me better without your shirt on."

Ben looked to the ceiling for help.

"Plus," she went on, sitting up and setting her wine on the table. "It's so constricting at the collar," she reached up and undid the top three buttons, watching his eyebrows shoot upwards and his pupils dilate. "That's better," she smirked and reached for her wine again.

Conflicting emotions played across his face, but eventually his practical side seemed to win out.

"We should probably discuss what happened earlier," he sighed, sitting back in his chair. Juliet nodded on agreement and sat up straighter. "Where should I start?" he looked back up at the ceiling for guidance. "I'm sorry for lashing out at you…I wasn't prepared for how I would feel, I mean…how I responded when…" he didn't seem sure how to finish his thought.

"When I went down on you and rocked your world?" she supplied helpfully, grinning over at him suggestively.

"Well…yes," Ben snorted, then groaned and covered his face with his hands. Juliet chuckled.

"Let's have the rest of this conversation on the couch," she proposed. "I want to sit with you while we talk."

She picked up her wine and moved to the couch, looking back to be sure he was following her. He was. She set her glass down on a coaster on the coffee table, then settled on one of sofa with her legs up under her. Ben established himself next to her, holding his wineglass and crossing his legs towards her comfortably.

"Remember when we were in your kitchen on our first date, and I was kind of freaking out because you seemed to have it all together, and I was feeling like a mess and an imposter?" she asked suddenly, inspired.

"Yes," he replied ruefully. "You told me about your strange ice cream practices then."

"Yes, well," she rolled her eyes at the reminder. "You let me say what I needed to say, and you talked me down. And then you said maybe one day, I could do the same for you," she looked at him meaningfully. "Tell me about your weird ice cream spoon, Ben," she intoned kindly.

He smirked at her and reached for her hand. She put hers into his instantly.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed with a deep sigh. "I don't know how to let someone care for me, and I'm not so sure I'm worth caring about."

Juliet pressed her lips together so she wouldn't interrupt him, but she wanted to refute everything he was saying. She squeezed his hand tightly in encouragement instead.

"I never thought you would actually want me," he mused, drinking his wine. "It's never actually me they want—it's always what I can do for them," he looked at her in awe. "I think you're the first person who's ever truly cared for me, Juliet, and I'm terrified."

"I can't be the first person," she chided him gently. "That's impossible. You're delightful!" she squeezed his hand again and watched him turn pink. "And if it's true, it's because other people are the worst, not you. It's not your fault when other people treat you badly."

"I'm not a saint," he was quick to point out. "Some of the ugliest things in my life are things I've done myself—things I'm responsible for."

"So you deserve to be punished forever? You never get to have love and feel worthy of it?" she frowned and shook her head in disagreement. They were both quiet for a moment. "Not to mention, you're punishing me too," she added slightly petulantly.

"Oh really?" he looked amused. "How so?"

"Not only do you feed me, you encourage me and you believe in me," she pointed out. "You've been my best friend here. Am I just supposed to stop caring about you?"

Ben said nothing, but his expression was pleased.

"And am I just supposed to forget what you did to me a couple hours ago?" she changed tactics and he blushed furiously. "Are you seriously telling me you're not going to do that to me ever again? What the hell? You're a vicious tease, Benjamin Linus," she leaned into him, muttering mutinously. He laughed outright and covered his face with his hands again.

"I don't know how that happened," he groaned. "I'm not very…I'm mean, it's never gone that well…" he huffed in disbelief.

"it's because we're really good together," Juliet hummed and put her face in his neck. "It's because you're good, and you deserve good things. You're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it."

Ben chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. He hugged her close and buried his nose in her hair.

"I can do that," he sighed eventually. "Especially if you're here."

"Well, behold!" Juliet smirked. "Here I am!" she kissed him sweetly on the mouth, then moved her lips over the length of his jawline. "And we're in my house, all alone, on a Saturday night," she whispered hotly against his ear.

"You make excellent observations, Dr. Burke," he intoned, fisting a hand in her hair and catching her mouth with his. He kissed her warmly, again and again, seemingly reveling in the fact that he could. Encouraged, Juliet crawled into his lap and straddled his legs, keeping her focus on his mouth and the joy she found there. She kissed him lovingly, unhurriedly. She moved over his cheeks and his forehead, raining butterfly kisses down on him as he held her close. She put her hands in his hair and tilted his head back until he met her eyes. She held his gaze adoringly, letting him see how much she cared for him before she pressed her mouth against his in sweet confirmation. Beneath her, Ben began to tremble again.

"Shhh," she patted him down soothingly and continued to kiss him in between calming gestures. "Everything is wonderful," she moved her hands over his back and held him against her. His head was on her shoulder, offering excellent access to the most sensitive part of his neck, and Juliet went after it with her lips and tongue. "You're delicious," she murmured as he groaned and shivered under her for a very different reason. "So responsive," she purred and dragged her fingernails over his nipples through his thin shirt. He hissed in response and pulled her hips over his. "I love doing this to you," she admitted, kissing him again. "It feels so good to touch you—I can tell how much you like it," she giggled and he shook his head ruefully.

"I can't hide anything from you," he grumbled.

"Yes, you're embarrassingly transparent in this area," she teased him playfully, then leaned in to whisper, "but I like that."

"Really?" he whispered back, his voice rough and pleading.

"Mmhmm," she leaned her forehead against his and looked deeply into his cool blue eyes. "It's the hottest thing in the world, seeing how much you want me."

Ben's eyes fluttered shut and he smiled to himself.

"Then let me show you some more," he sighed emphatically. He lifted Juliet up slightly and rolled her onto her back. He followed her down and pressed her to the couch cushions with the length of his body.

"Oh, yes," Juliet nodded as he covered her and settled his weight on her. "Yep, this is good," she narrated approvingly to Ben's soft laughter.

He kissed her passionately, cradling her face with one hand and leaning his weight on the other. She kissed him back excitedly. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again and again, giggling wildly, thrilled with his unrestrained enthusiasm. He buried his face in the curve of her throat and kissed the flesh on her chest exposed by the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. She brought her legs up and wrapped them around his hips. He reached down with one hand and slid it boldly, open-palmed, over her knee, up her thigh, and over the underwear covering her hip. He caught her eye and watched her face intently as he reached under the hem of his shirt and slid it up gently to cup her breast.

"Do you know what it does to me to see you walking around in my clothes?" he rumbled, still watching her as he tweaked her nipple. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

"No," she moaned. "Tell me," she fisted her hands in his shirt as he continued to roll the tiny nub between his fingers. He paused for a moment, lifted himself off her, then reached down between them and unbuckled his belt. "Fuck," Juliet grunted, the sight of it and sound of it making her clench and feel warmth between her legs.

He smiled to himself as he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down. To Juliet's surprise and delight, her grabbed her hand and slid it down into his boxers where he was fiercely, impressively hard.

"It does this to me," Ben grumbled. "It gets me absolutely rock solid, and I can't do anything except think about splitting you in half with it," he ground out.

"Oh, Ben," Juliet chuckled. "Yes!" she wrapped her hand around him and squeezed him experimentally. His dick was a warm metal pipe covered in the softest flesh. She stroked him carefully, and he shuddered. "How do you hide this in those pants?" she snickered.

"Not well at all," he growled and kissed her. "And it happens constantly. I'm always at risk of being caught with it, or desperately trying to take care of it."

Juliet laughed, still stroking him gently, teasingly.

"It's not funny, you temptress," he smirked. "I have people watching me constantly. I live with my teenage daughter!" This made Juliet groan. "Everyone's going to think I'm a pervert," he leaned in to kiss her again. "And it's all your fault!"

"I'm sorry," she laughed between kisses. "If only I could help!" she teased.

"Oh, you can help," he grumbled, pulling open another button on her chest and kissing the skin beneath. "Let's go to your bedroom."

"Yeah?" she pulled her hand out of his pants and cradled him between her legs. "What's in there?" she asked coyly.

"Let's go find out," Ben suggested, moving off her and standing up. He buttoned his pants for the moment and reached out for her.

"Is it a pony?" she giggled and let him pull her to her feet.

"No," Ben sighed. "But it is something you can ride," he intoned wickedly.

"Ha!" Juliet snorted with laughter and swayed against him. "Wow," she looked at him, impressed. "Okay, then."

She squeezed his hand, kissed him, then pulled him into her bedroom.