Chapter 12
Twelve
NOELLE
D ear Lord, help me.
It's a prayer, not an epithet.
I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing. We're naked together, and I’m scared out of my mind, and he keeps saying the most perfect things to me, settling my nerves the moment they flare. Touching me like I’m spun glass, reverent and worshipful. Kissing my belly.
Sniffing me—scenting me, like I’m perfume.
But his…um.
You know.
It's freaking enormous . I mean, I sort of had the idea that it would be—no part of him is small.
But holy Moses.
That thing is huge .
Having no frame of reference besides Brennan, I don't know how it compares to the norm, but my guess is that since every other part of him is beyond the pale, this is, too.
I shy away from figuring out what to call it, even in my own head—dratted hyper-religious upbringing.
I want to be daring.
Bold.
Sexy.
Naughty.
A little dirty.
I just…where do I start?
He's watching me, staring at me, gaze greedily going to my breasts, my sex. He can't look away, and bless him for trying—he keeps finding my eyes, but his gaze goes back down.
I turn, open the shower, twist the water on—within a minute it's skirling whirls of steam, and I catch Bear's hand as I adjust it so it's not scalding.
I pull him in after me and he shuts the door—he's nervous too, hesitant. Standing against the rear wall, he fills the admittedly not huge shower stall with his massive presence. The water beats on my back as I face him, and the heat leaches into me.
I pull him toward me, and I'm thankful that the shower head is mounted up near the ceiling, so he doesn't have to duck. "Stay close to me."
I slick my wet hair back, and pull him forward so the stream hits his chest—I unbraid his beard and toss the tie aside. He ducks under the stream to wet his hair.
"Can I ask you an embarrassing question?" I ask, my voice small and hesitant.
"Anything."
I look down at his huge…thing. "What do you call it?" At his frowned, silent question, I feel compelled to elaborate. "The way I was raised, we didn't talk about sex or body parts. So…I don't know what to call it."
"Yours."
I can't help a laugh. "For real, Bear. It's an honest question."
"Cock."
My cheeks burn. "I don’t know if I can say that."
"Try." He rests a hand on my ribs, just below my breasts—which I now realize he hasn't touched yet.
I swallow hard. "Cock." I cover my mouth with my hand. "Another really stupid, embarrassing question."
"Not stupid or embarrassing."
I rest my forehead against his chest. "It's really big, isn't it? Your…your cock?"
"Um." A shrug. "Dunno. Not much for comparing."
"Something tells me that's because there is no comparison."
He shrugs again. "You don't have to worry, okay? I won't ever hurt you."
"I know, Bear." I capture his hands. Guide them up. "Don’t you want to touch me?"
"So fucking bad."
"I want you to."
I hold my breath as he gently scrapes his cinderblock hands up my skin—the rough scratch of his hands is delicious, delirium-inducing. He cups my breasts in his big hands, cradling their weight. Lifting. Cupping. A low growl of masculine pleasure rattles the shower stall.
"Incredible," he whispers. Looks at me, awe in his eyes. "So fucking exquisite."
My breath is on fire my throat, in my lungs. "Bear." It's a plea.
I need more.
So much more.
Everything.
The sandpaper grit of his thumbpads roll over my nipples, eliciting a shocked gasp from me. He squeezes the globes almost roughly. He holds my eyes and then dips, pressing his lips to my chest just below my throat. Roughly cupping, squeezing, and kneading one breast, he lifts the other and suckles my nipple into his mouth. I arch my back and give voice to a moan; I’m shocked at the sound that comes out of me.
Not once in my entire previous relationship did I ever make such a sound; I refuse to even say his name, now. That person is erased.
Bear is all that exists.
His touch. His kiss.
He lifts my other breast to his mouth and kisses it while playing with the first.
Finds my eyes. "Too rough?"
I shake my head. "Incredible. Perfect." I pull him back down. "Please, Bear. More."
He goes to his knees, framing each breast in his big hard hands, his touch so gentle, so loving. Kisses one breast, the other. Lets them settle to hang naturally; his hands go to my butt, and his mouth suckles my nipples, one and the other, kissing, licking, tongue flicking. With each touch of his tongue, I whimper, cry out, and gasp, each new sensation wild and maddening. A burn fills my belly, swelling into an inferno of pressure and heat. Each kiss and lick of my nipples sends fire into my belly, pressure behind my sex.
"Bear," I whisper, pleading for I don’t know what.
Well, actually…I do.
I just don't know how to ask for it.
" Please , Bear."
"What do you need, Noelle?"
I shake my head, breathing hard. "I don't know how to say it."
He caresses my bottom with tenderness, gazing up at me as the shower stream splatters off my shoulders. The tile must be hard under his knees, and he must be cold not under the hot water, but he doesn't seem to even notice.
He brings his hands around to my hipbones. His thumbs brush the delicate hollow where my thighs dip in toward my sex. "This?"
I nod, stroking his wet hair. "Please, Bear. I feel…"
"Tell me."
"Crazy. Wild." I swallow hard. "I need… you . I need more . Touch me. Please touch me."
"Fuck, Noelle." He slides those thumbs inward, and I hiss as they touch my lips. His voice is shaky. "Ask me again. Please."
I touch his chin so he looks up at me. "Need to hear it again?" He nods. "Please touch me, Bear. Please. Help me…" I swallow hard and force the dirty, forbidden words out. "Help me come."
"Hot as fuck, hearing your sweet, innocent mouth say that." He swipes one big thumb down my seam; I jerk at the touch, a shrill gasp torn from my mouth. "Can't believe this is real."
"It's real," I assure him.
"Don't wanna wake up back in the cell," he growls, his voice gritty and guttural. “Terrified I'm gonna snap out of it and be back there."
I cradle his face. "No, no, no. Bear, Honey. Look at me." His expression is so fraught, torn by need and fear. I smooth my hands down his cheeks, brush my thumbs under his eyes, wipe at the corners. “You're here with me. Feel me? Feel me touching you?"
"Feel it," he whispers, the sound delicate and awed. "Feel you."
"I'm real. This is real ."
"Don't fucking deserve you," he murmurs.
"I don't want to hear that again," I scold him. "Never again. Promise me."
He frowns up at me. "Promise." He swallows hard, his gaze going to my sex. "So sexy."
"Show me," I whisper. "Please."
"Need you to help me make you feel good, Noelle. Been a long time. Don't know what I'm doing." He brushes a thumb down my seam again, and touches his lips to my belly, below my navel and above my pubic hair.
Should I have shaved? Or at least trimmed? I never have. It never occurred to me to do so, until now.
"Bear?" I whisper. "I have another question."
He kisses lower, lips grazing my skin, my coppery curls down there. "Mmmm?" It's a rumbled query. "Anything."
"Do you…" I exhale a shaky, scared sigh as I look for the words—which seem to flee my brain. "Do you wish I'd…um. Shaved? Down there?"
He growls. "Fuck no."
I frown. "You…don't?"
A shake of his shaggy head. "Hell no." He kisses my thigh, the hollow next to my sex, his cheek and jawline brushing the outer swell of my nether lip, teasing. "You're a woman, Noelle. All woman. Real. You ask me, a woman's got curves. Soft. Natural." He traces the pads of his fingers down my center, over the curls, one fingertip brushing me where I'm most sensitive, making me jump and cry out. "Love this, Noelle. Every inch of you is fucking incredible."
“Okay." It's a breath, shaky still—this time from the touch.
His hands glide up my belly, gather my breasts in his hands, and his lips touch just above my sex. "Your body drives me wild, Noelle."
His gruff growl shakes me to my core, makes the heat and pressure build to a frenetic boil, and only his touch will give me what I want—yet he takes his time, learning me, exploring me. He lifts my breasts again, thumbs rolling over my nipples, which are diamond-hard, erect, and as sensitive as I am down there.
“These big beautiful tits.”
Lifts on his knees, kneading one breast while kissing the other, then he switches—after a moment, he kisses my belly, my navel, my pudendum, and then lower, lips now covering my tender, aching sex. A single flick of his tongue is where I want it most.
“This sweet, perfect pussy.” I gasped at the word, shocked and aroused. His tongue flicks me again. "Clit is sensitive, isn't it?"
I nod. "Yes. Very." I moan as he closes his lips over me, there, suckling. "Nipples, too."
"Oh yeah?" He rises, sucking a nipple into his mouth, gently nibbling and scraping with his teeth and flicking with his tongue until I jerk and gasp. “Fuck yeah, you're sensitive." He looks up at me. "Do something for me, Beautiful?"
I swallow hard, aching everywhere, desperate for release. "Anything."
"Touch yourself."
"Where?"
He covers my sex again, tonguing. "Pinch those pretty pink nipples."
His eyes are hooded, heavy-lidded, wild with arousal; he's enjoying this. That only makes me feel even wilder, ratcheting my own arousal to new heights—to a fevered pitch.
He watches as I hesitantly cup my breasts. "Play with your tits, Noelle."
I love this version of Bear—commanding. Confident. Telling me what to do. God, I could come just from his voice, from his dirty, beautiful words.
I cover my nipples with my palms, the pressure against my nipples freezing my breath in my throat. I slide my palms against the erect little buttons, and then, slowly, hesitantly, pinch them between my finger and thumb.
"Show me how you like it," he murmurs.
Swallowing a whimper that's equal parts nerves and need, I pinch harder, rolling them; a hot line of arousal sizzles in a searing line from my nipples to my sex, and a shrill gasp slips past my clenched teeth. I do it again, harder. A sharp bite of pain threads through the pleasure, and my hips jerk as an intense wave of need pushes through me, making me moan.
"Fuck," Bear snarls. "So hot." He licks me—up my sex, tongue tip tripping against the apex, stopping to swirl over the bundle of nerve endings.
I cry out, my knees dipping—helpless to stop myself, I pinch my nipples again, even harder, and he flicks me with his tongue at the same time and now the wave of pleasure is a sudden sharp blast, and the heat is nuclear within me, the pressure titanic. My cries emerge in a series of rough, throaty, staccato moans and whimpers, each one louder and wilder than the last as Bear’s tongue and lips ply my sex, flicking and swirling and circling and tweaking my hypersensitive center. My nipples ache and throb as I pinch and roll them, squeezing hard enough that the sharp sting of pain makes my gasps breathless and my knees threaten to give out.
Bear's hands cradle my bottom, pulling me against him, and now his tongue swipes up relentlessly, fast and greedy. The pressure increases inside me in ramping waves, the heat billowing like an out-of-control wildfire, and all I can do now is ride the waves, knees dipping, hips pushing against his devouring mouth.
"Oh god, Bear. Oh god, oh god, oh god —Bear!” I barely recognize my own voice; it's rough and ragged and raw, thick with arousal. "I need to come. Please. Please. Ohgodohgodohgod— please , Bear, I need to come."
Who is this Noelle, saying these things, begging this man for an orgasm?
I can't stand upright on my own—I hunch forward over Bear, bracing myself on his massive, rock-hard shoulders, knees bent, hips grinding, back against the wall.
It hits me all at once.
My climax is so powerful it rips a full-throated scream out of me, a scream worthy of a slasher film. My hands clutch at Bear’s head, my hips flying, flexing, thrusting as the orgasm shatters me and shatters me, pieces of my soul flung to the farthest corners of existence as his mouth covers my sex and sucks hard, and now I feel pressure against my seam, something thick and hard nudging my opening—pressing, slipping between my slick lips, arousal leaking out of me, coating me, drenching me. The orgasm continues to wrench my body into contortions of ecstasy, the scream fading into gasps, groans, and whimpers, and that pressure against my opening becomes penetration—his finger sliding into me, centimeter by centimeter, and my jaw drops open, and my eyes fly wide. I look down and find his eyes. He pulls away, lips and beard glistening with my essence, shower spray dotting his face and beard, droplets rolling down his shoulders as the stream batters his broad back. I watch, rapt and awed and breathless, as his middle finger fills my sex, splitting me open, taking the wild crescendo of climax into something else, something beyond mere orgasm.
Another wave bursts in my belly as his finger drills deep into me, curling, scraping against some secret place that rips another sudden scream out of me—another smashing, shattering climax shearing me into sobbing, weeping, boneless pieces.
My knees give out totally, and Bear catches me. I'm dizzy, disoriented, gasping raggedly. I'm floating, drifting. Cold air washes over me. Something soft and warm wraps around me. I'm settled onto my bed, mind spinning, my whole body twitching and spasming as aftershocks seize me like mini-earthquakes.
A moment later, his hot hard chest becomes my pillow, his arms wrapped around me, sheltering me from the storm of orgasms still shuddering through me.
I must pass out for a moment because I find myself blinking my eyes open—daylight has faded, and Bear's breathing is slow and soft and deep. But when I crane my neck to look up at him, he's awake. His gray-green eyes are tender and warm on mine.
"Hey." His voice is low, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "There you are."
"Did…did I…pass out?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"How long was I out?"
“Not long. Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty."
A throw blanket covers our naked bodies.
I roll against him, and look into his eyes. "Bear, I…." I press my face into his chest, cheeks burning. "I'm at a loss for words."
"Don't have to say anything."
I swallow hard, a lump of emotion in my throat. "I didn't know it could feel like that." I shimmy up his body until I can capture his mouth and claim his tongue. "I don't know what you did, but it was incredible. Beyond incredible. I've…I've never…" I bury my nose and mouth in the side of his throat, shake my head as I hunt for words that will express my feelings at this moment, and come up short. "Nothing has ever felt like that. Not even close."
"Giving that to you…" he ghosts a thumb over my mouth. "Greatest privilege of my whole fucking life." His lips touch mine, whispering. "Thank you, Noelle. Thank you for trusting me with your perfect body."
I can't help but laugh. "I should be thanking you , Bear."
"Told you. It was my privilege. Getting to touch you. See you. Be with you. Hear you scream. Knowing you picked me, of any man in the world, to give you pleasure….fuck. Nothing better in the whole wide world. Not a single goddamn thing."
My eyes burn. "God, Bear."
Another ache takes root inside me. Another, different kind of need. This one is not for my release now, but his.
I slide the blanket down around our hips, baring the hard, rippling expanse of his chest and abdomen. A thick smattering of rust-red curls covers his chest, narrowing to a thin line trailing down beneath the blanket. His nipples are flat buttons surrounded by tan ovals, the pecs massive and hard and bulging with power. I trace a long keloid scar line. Touch a round, puckered one. A burn under his ribcage on the left side.
Tug the blanket lower, kick it away entirely—his manhood, not erect at this moment, is long and thick, curled against his thigh, a profusion of copper pubic hair surrounding the thick root and heavy balls.
"Noelle, you…you don't need to—" he starts.
I cover his mouth with my hand. "I want to. I want to touch you. I wanted to touch you in the shower. I'm just sorry I was so selfish."
He shakes his head. "Nothing selfish about that. It was beautiful."
I slide my palm over his stomach. "And this will be beautiful, too. I want to give you as much pleasure as you gave me."
"Got all the pleasure I need, making you feel good."
"Bear," I say. "Please let me touch you. I don't just want to—I need to. I need to. Please." I let my hand drift lower. "Don't you want me to?"
He nods hesitantly. "Course."
“Have you…thought about this? About me touching you?”
A slow nod. "Couple times. Didn't feel right. Felt like I was using you or something. I dunno." A shrug. "When we decided to take time to get to know each other, I tried to put that aside."
"I know what you mean." I rest my cheek on his chest and watch my hand slip down to his left thigh. "Gonna make you feel so good, Bear. Just…just relax and let me touch you. Trust me, okay?"
He nods. "I do." His hand curls around my shoulders, tightening as my touch inches closer to his manhood. "Here for you, Noelle. Whatever you want. Whatever you need."
"What I want and need right now is…this." I cover the slack comma of his manhood.
At my touch, I feel it harden, immediately thickening, hardening, straightening.
Memories assault me, unbidden, unwanted, of the fumbling attempts in the past. Barely a handful at full erection, he would be done within seconds of me touching him. He’d make me feel bad about it. Like I did something wrong in making him come too soon.
It got to the point, toward the end of the relationship, where I'd lost interest in the act. With him, at least. Alone, I'd help myself find the release I needed—daydreaming and fantasizing about…well, exactly what Bear just gave me: time, attention, affection. Focusing on me. Making me feel good. It’s not just good—it’s amazing . And no matter how wild or detailed the fantasy, nothing came even close to the reality of how Bear made me feel.
Now, a new hunger rises in me. I remember the wild need I felt as a teenage girl, a young woman eager to explore her body and sexuality. I remember feeling feverish and half-crazed with want. I remember making out and being shaky with the desire to feel him, to touch him, to explore.
All that comes to life within me again, stronger than ever, a kind of renewal of those girlhood needs, quashed and killed then, now resurrected by Bear's sweetness, patience, kindness, and devotion. By all that he is. By his touch.
I circle his thick, erect organ with one hand—my middle finger just barely meets my thumb. I place my other hand above the first, and he's long enough that the tip protrudes above my upper hand, a bulbous pink head, the slit weeping clear fluid.
I look at him—his jaw is tensed and flexing, his chest rising and falling with slow, powerful breaths. His eyes are locked on my hand, his erection.
"So big," I whisper, gently sliding one hand down from tip to root. "Beautiful." I hold his gaze for a moment. “You’re beautiful, Bear."
His brows lower, and his head shakes, but he says nothing, only swallows hard, breath coming faster.
“Talk to me, honey," I whisper. "I want to know what you're thinking, what you're feeling."
"Been a long, long time since I've been touched like this. Not sure how long I can last."
I nibble his earlobe. Whisper in his ear. "I don't want you to last. All I want is for you to feel good."
"You touching me…feels fucking amazing. Unreal."
I caress his length again, the ridges of skin and veins slipping and stuttering against my palm, past my fingers. His abs tuck in and harden, and his hips tense subtly. “It’s real,” I whisper.
"Oh god, Noelle. Feels so fucking good." His voice is rough and guttural and low. "Please don't stop."
“Never.” I feel…powerful.
Strong. Bold.
Maybe it was the orgasm, maybe it’s just him, the things he says, but I’m emboldened to let my desire take over. I give myself permission to be naughty. To let my deepest, wildest, most hitherto forbidden fantasies come true—because I know I’m safe with Bear.
I cup his taut, red-fuzzed, heavy balls in my hand, toying with them. They’re fascinating and strange. At my touch, he jerks, thighs bunching, a ragged growl pushing past his teeth.
"Love how you growl for me," I whisper. "Love the sounds you make."
I plunge my fist down his length again, ever so slowly, inch by inch, twisting around the top, scudding down the thick hot shaft, and curling around the root, my other hand cradling and cupping his balls.
"Ohhhhhh fuck, Noelle."
"Feels good?" I breathe. "You like how I touch your cock?"
The word drops from my lips, and excitement makes me shiver and shudder—I can say anything. He won't judge. He'll only encourage.
"Fuck yes,” he growls. "Love how you touch my cock. Feels so fucking good."
"I want you to come for me," I whisper in his ear. "Show me how I make you feel, honey."
Faster, then. I shove my hand down his length and then slowly drag it back up, rolling my thumb over the tip, smearing the clear fluid over him. Tease the slit with my fingernail, making him jerk and jump and growl. Another swift plunge of my fist.
He snarls wordlessly, hips lifting off the bed. "Gonna come soon, Noelle."
"Good," I say. "That's what I want.”
I don't know who I am right now, but I like her. Scratch that— love her. I feel more alive than I've ever been. Like I've been asleep—or half alive. Bear giving me not one but two—at least—incredibly potent orgasms broke a spell, shattered chains I didn't know were binding me.
He brought me to life.
A ravenous, greedy, sensual, erotic beast has been woken inside me.
I can do anything. I can have him. I can give myself to him. Show him all of me. I can accept everything he is, and demand more because I can give more.
A thought percolates and takes root.
A desire.
A dark, hidden, dirty, secret fantasy—something I touched myself while imagining. Trying to picture what it would feel like if I were ever able to do that with someone. In the fantasies, the man was nameless and faceless, and the act was forbidden, sinful, and shameful.
Now…
The prospect of allowing myself to live out that fantasy with this wild, beautiful, immense, powerful, kind, wonderful man?
Excitement and wonder and desperate need thrill through me—I’m consumed. Shaking with energy, with want.
I slide my cheek from his chest to his diaphragm, slowly caressing his hot length.
His breathing is rapid and shallow. "Noelle?"
"Sssshhh." I twist to look at him. "Just enjoy it, Bear."
Heart slamming frantically in my chest, I slip lower. Lower. The plump, straining tip is right in front of my face, now. A bead of clear liquid dots the slit. I hesitate, and then stick out my tongue and lick it away. The flavor bursts on my tongue, unexpectedly potent. He groans at the touch of my tongue, and the ragged, desperate sound gives me the courage to go further. To take more of what I want—to give him more.
I kiss the tip, lips against the soft, tender, warm skin, flitting my tongue over the slit, earning me another raw, guttural moan. "You taste amazing," I whisper.
"Noelle… fuck ." The disbelief in his voice sears my soul. “Feels so fucking good.”
His praise fills me with pride, further emboldening me to keep going. Give more; take more.
I hold his cock in my hand and part my lips, open my mouth. I taste flesh on my tongue, salty and hot and slippery smooth. His fingers dive into my hair, gather the long, braid-kinked tresses in his hands, clutching, holding, knotting, tugging at the scalp. The slight pinch of pain at the tug drags a groan from me—apparently, that's a thing for me, now.
I stroke his length from the root to my lips.
Down…and back up, so slowly.
Again.
Again.
He growls, wordlessly, feral snarl of masculine pleasure, and his hips buck. I moan at this, loving his response.
He knots his fists in my hair. "Noelle—fuck. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Your mouth. God, your sweet fucking mouth."
"Mmmmm…" I moan. "Mmmm-hmm?" Pull away, the tip popping free from my lips with a sound like a bursting bubble in a cartoon. "Tell me how it feels, baby."
Baby?
Where did that come from?
He groans—at my stroking hands, perhaps, or at the term of endearment. Or both. “Heaven. Feels so fucking amazing. Hot, wet, tight mouth. Soft lips. Soft hands. My god, Noelle. Please, fuck, please don't stop."
"Mmmm-mmm," I hum the negative, kissing the fat round head again, licking, tasting. "Never. Not until you come for me."
"Almost," he murmurs. " So fucking close."
I fill my mouth with him. Dare more—slide my lips around his jaw-stretching shaft and then back to suckling around his tip. This makes him jerk, shoving his hips helplessly upward, driving his length into my mouth again. I let him—and even drive down to take more of him as he thrusts. He gasps in ecstasy, shocked, ragged, and wild.
"Oh god, Noelle. Oh god." His fists clench hard in my hair, tugging at my scalp with a delicious tinge of pain.
I let my hands both wrap around him, then, plunging down and sliding up, faster and faster, while my mouth suckles around his tip, pushing down inch by inch, swallowing as much of his cock as I can take.
His hands spread to gently cradle my head, and his heels dig into the mattress, pushing his hips up, and he groans, long and low.
Faster.
I taste sweetness and musk, tang and smoke. Moan the flavor of him.
He growls, my new favorite sound—my core spasms with arousal as he cuts loose a vicious, ripping snarl of ecstasy, and every muscle in his great, massive, mighty body quivers, lost to the mercy of my two little hands, my mouth.
Me …
I'm giving him this.
I feel him shake, tensing all over, the growl becoming a breathless, wonder-filled gasp. "Noelle!" For a split second, his fingers tighten with merciless strength around my head, but in the same instant he releases me and his touch returns, delicate and gentle.
How do I tell him I like it a little rough, that I like a little bit of a bite with my pleasure?
A worry for later.
At this moment, I crave his release. His utter, abandoned, pleasure.
"Noelle," he grates, his voice raw and raspy. "Gotta come. Fuck—fuck, fuck. Oh god, Noelle. Noelle. "
I have no idea what to expect when he comes. I've never done this before. I fantasized about it, daydreamed of it, fingered myself while imagining it. I understand, mentally, what's going to happen, but the real, physical experience of something is never equal to the idea of it.
I'm scared, for a second. What if—
I push the doubts away. Bear is gasping my name on repeat, chanting my name as he nears his release. He's all the matters. This moment. This connection. This act that I can give him.
I taste his essence on my tongue, and I feel his cock pulsing in my hands, throbbing against my lips. I cradle his balls in one hand and stroke his length with the other, lips wrapped around the head, tongue swirling, lapping, flitting, smearing.
"Ahhhh god, fuck, Noelle—" he thrust off the bed, a wordless roar torn out of him as he finally unleashes his orgasm.
A hot flood washes out of him, filling my mouth. I taste him, the flavors of his seed exploding on my tongue as I swallow and swallow and swallow frantically. He arches, hands shaking on my head as he bellows again, another rush overwhelming my mouth—I can barely swallow it all before he comes yet again, and now I can't take it all. It leaks out of my mouth, trickling down my lips to my chin.
Again and again, his hot, thick, pungent seed fills my mouth, shockingly intense, and seemingly endless.
Finally, the flood ends, and he's gasping, groaning, panting raggedly. I keep going, desperate to milk every last droplet of his pleasure out of him as I can. As I continue to stroke and suckle, he spasms yet again, and this groan seems almost broken, shattered.
He's softening in my hands, and I no longer taste his seed seeping out of him, so I move away, letting his organ pop out of my mouth to flop softly against his belly.
I sit up, hyperaware of my body, of the way my breasts sway, how my nipples stand out hard—aroused at his pleasure, and, yes, at the power I feel knowing I can make such a massive, mighty man shatter into desperate ecstasy. I wipe my lips and chin with the back of my wrist, staring down at him.
He looks absolutely stunned. "Noelle. Dear god."
I giggle, licking my lips, grinning at him. "Hi."
He jackknifes upright, brawny arms snaking around me and hauls me down to him. "C'mere, you."
I sigh happily, enveloped by him, held, protected. "Yes, please."
For a few minutes, he just breathes, his panting slowly reducing to normal breaths, his heartbeat slowing to normal as well. "I don't know what to say."
I rub his chest. "Whatever is on your mind. You can always tell me anything."
"Sorta stunned right now."
"Then you don't have to say anything. Just hold me."
"Wanna savor this moment." He runs his hand over my shoulders, smoothing it down my spine, capturing the upper swell of my backside and back up to my shoulders, caressing me in a long, slow circuit. "Can't quite believe you did that."
I giggle. "Me either, actually." I bite my lip, hesitate, and then tell him the truth. "Never done that before."
"What?" He sounds shocked. "Never?"
I shake my head. Cheeks flushed, I continue to admit the truth to him—scary and liberating all at once. "I…it's been a secret fantasy of mine for a long, long time. Part of me never thought I'd ever feel brave enough to try it. But you…Bear, you give me courage. You make me bold. I know I'm safe with you."
"What a gift," he breathes. “What a priceless gift."
"That's how I feel about you, Bear."
He rumbles—a sound of disbelief. "I'd honestly given up on…on life. On myself. On love. Sex. Spend the amount of time I did locked up, you gotta find ways to cope. For me, it was putting that part of myself away. Killed it. I focused on reading and lifting. I just…I never thought, even after I got out, that anyone would want me like that. I felt like…like a reject."
"Bear, no. No. You're not. You're so far from being a reject."
“You changed everything," he says. "Changed me. Gave me a reason to not just live but to want more out of life. I want more. I wanna be more—for you."
My eyes sting. "You already are more." I roll onto him, resting my breasts on his chest, hands folded on his breastbone, chin on my hands, gazing into his beautiful, endlessly deep eyes. "I need you to understand something, honey. I have never, ever, ever felt the way you made me feel, just now. I’m talking about the way you made me come, first and foremost. I’ve never come like that. To the point that I’m not entirely sure I ever have actually come. But getting to make you feel good? That was so hot for me. I'm still so turned on it's crazy. Making you feel good makes me feel good."
He slides his fingers into my hair along my temple. "Noelle. God, Noelle. This all feels like a dream."
"For me too." I smile at him. "The best dream I've ever had. May we never wake up."
"Amen to that." His eyes droop, heavy.
I shimmy higher so I can nuzzle my face into the side of his neck, most of my body on his, greedy for his warmth, his solidity, his strength. His hand cradles my bottom.
"Close your eyes," I tell him. “Rest with me."
His only response is a soft, happy little growl.
The last thing I think before dozing off is that I’m very much aware of one fact: I’m absolutely falling in love with my big, handsome Bear.