Chapter 31 #2
Ava’s mouth watered. She reached for him, her fingers tracing the ridges of his abdomen, the faint silver of a scar just above his hip.
Noah hissed as her touch dipped lower, her fingers brushing the hard length of his manhood through the wool.
“Careful, lass,” he warned, but there was no real threat in his voice, only need.
She wasn’t careful.
She palmed him through the fabric, feeling the thick, heavy length of him, the way he pulsed against her touch.
“I want to see ye,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire.
With a growl, he shoved his kilt down, freeing his manhood. Ava’s breath caught.
He was huge. Thick and veined, the head already glistening with pre-cum, the heavy sac beneath tight with arousal.
Her fingers wrapped around him instinctively, stroking from root to tip, her thumb swiping over the slick crown.
“Christ.” Noah’s hands fisted in the furs beside her head, his hips jerking into her touch. “Ava, if ye keep doin’ that, I’m gonna spend before I even get inside ye.”
She smiled, slow and wicked, before leaning forward, her tongue darting out to taste the salty bead of precum on his tip.
Noah’s breath hissed between his teeth, his manhood twitching in her grip. “Ye little minx.”
His words cut off as she took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth. She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper, her hand working the base as she bobbed her head, her free hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently.
The taste of him, musky and male, filled her senses, and she moaned around his length, the vibration making his thighs tremble.
“Enough,” he groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her back with a sharp tug. His manhood glistened with her saliva, the head flushed dark with arousal. “I need to be inside ye. Now.”
Ava barely had time to nod before he was pushing her back onto the furs, his body covering hers.
His mouth found hers again, his kiss bruising as he settled between her thighs, the thick head of his manhood pressing against her slick entrance.
She was dripping, her body more than ready for him, but he didn’t plunge inside. Instead, he teased her, the crown of his manhood sliding through her folds, gathering her wetness before notching at her entrance.
“Noah,” she begged, her nails raking down his back.
“Patience, lass,” he murmured, but his voice was strained, his control fraying. With one deep, relentless thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her.
Ava cried out, her body stretching to accommodate him, the burn of his size quickly giving way to a deep, aching pleasure. “Oh, Christ.”
“Ye feel like heaven,” he groaned, his forehead pressing to hers as he held himself still, letting her adjust. “So tight. So feckin’ wet.”
She couldn’t form words, could only cling to him as he began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive inch of her.
The bed creaked beneath them, the furs rustling with every thrust, the sound obscene in the quiet of the chamber.
Ava’s legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into the muscles of his arse, urging him deeper, harder.
“More,” she gasped, her fingers clawing at his shoulders. “I need more.”
Noah growled, his pace quickening, his manhood going deeper into her with a force that stole her breath.
Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her. Her breasts bounced with the movement, her nipples dragging against the rough hair of his chest.
His mouth found hers again, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips, kissing her as thoroughly as he fucked her.
“Ye’re mine,” he snarled against her lips, his hand sliding between their bodies, his thumb finding her clit. “Say it.”
“Yers,” she sobbed, her body coiling tighter, her release bearing down on her like a storm. “Only yers.”
“I’m losin’ meself,” he said, low and rough against her ear.
“Daenae stop,” she said. “Daenae ye dare stop.”
“I wasnae goin’ to stop.” His voice had gone entirely ragged. “I’m just... ahhhhh, Ava.”
She pulled him closer, and he relinquished the last of it, the control slipping away in a way that was more about choosing to trust her with it.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on.
The fire cast its light across the ceiling, and she felt herself fall apart in a way that was thorough and complete, leaving her boneless, breathless, and still—somehow, entirely herself.
Afterwards, they lay tangled in the firelight, and she listened as his heartbeat slowed.
She had shared a bed before in the purely practical sense.
She and Esther still sometimes fell asleep together over books, and years ago, she’d shared a room at the tavern with the other girls when the weather was too cold.
But this was different. This was choosing to be here. This was lying beside a man who had asked her to marry him and meant it, and was already half-asleep, with one arm around her, and a satisfied quality to him that she suspected she would find deeply irritating if it were anyone else.
“Ye’re thinkin’ again,” he said, without opening his eyes.
“I’m allowed to think.”
“Nae when it disturbs me rest.”
“Yer rest.” She tilted her head to look at him. He still had his eyes closed. “Ye’ve been asleep for thirty seconds.”
“Aye. And ye’re loud.”
“I’m quiet. I’m thinkin’ quietly.”
“Ye think loud.” He opened one eye. “What is it?”
She thought about not telling him, but she told him anyway.
“I was thinkin’ that I’ve spent most of me life bein’ afraid of wantin’ things too much. In case they were taken away.” She looked at the ceiling. “And I was thinkin’ that this, all of this, is the most I’ve ever wanted. And it’s still here.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Aye,” he said. “It’s still here.”
“I ken it is.” She paused. “I just needed to say it out loud. To check.”
He moved, rolled over, and propped himself up to look at her properly, the firelight catching the line of his jaw.
“It’ll still be here tomorrow,” he said. “And the day after. And every day after the handfastin’.” He looked at her steadily. “Ye’re done checkin’, Ava. Ye’re here. It’s done.”
She looked at him.
His seriousness showed in the way he said everything the same way—plain, direct, with no softening. That particular quality, which once seemed cold to her, now felt like the most reliable thing she had ever known.
“Aye,” she said. “I ken.”
“Good.” He lay back down. “Go to sleep.”
“I’m nae tired.”
“Ye are.”
“I’m nae.” She stopped. She was, actually. She was very tired, in the comfortable, specific way of someone who has finally stopped holding something and put it down. “I might be a little tired.”
“Aye.” His arm came back around her. “There ye go.”
She closed her eyes.
Outside, the castle settled into its night sounds. The distant creak of the old stone, the wind along the eastern wall, the occasional soft footstep of the watch. Familiar sounds. The sounds of a place that had become, in the way of things she hadn’t planned on, home.
She was asleep before she finished thinking it.