Chapter 21
Noah
Oh yeah, of course I am allowed to touch him. But there’s so much skin, I don’t even know where to start. Not to mention that I don’t know how to touch another man. I want it to feel good for him. Fuck, I’m probably just overthinking this again.
Hesitantly, I place my palms on his chest. His skin is soft, short, black hairs tickle beneath my fingertips.
Light as a feather, I let them glide over Luca’s upper body, along his sternum to his stomach, through every single groove of his six-pack.
He has a six-pack, damn it. His jeans sit so low, the waistband of his boxers is peeking out.
A thick line of hair runs from his crotch to his belly button.
I trace a circle with my index finger, and Luca takes an audible breath.
Goosebumps spread across his chest, and I think that’s a good sign. Right?
I want more of this. More ragged breathing, more goosebumps, more sensation. With a small step, I close the tiny gap between us. My stomach presses against his—or almost does, because he’s too tall and I’m too small for that. But I’m at the perfect height to lick his nipples.
The thought alone startles me. Holy shit.
Am I allowed to do this? I look up. Luca’s eyes are closed and his nostrils quiver as he exhales.
Very slowly, I let my hands slide up his sides, then I lean forward.
I’ve completely lost my mind. One hundred percent.
Just the idea Luca might want this with me feels so outlandish in my head, so completely absurd.
But he’s standing in front of me, and maybe I’ll never get the chance to be this close to a man again.
I need to know how his nipple feels on my tongue, if I can feel it getting hard, if the little hairs tickle.
“Ah, fuck!” Luca reacts the moment I touch him with the tip of my tongue. He throws his head back, wraps both hands around my waist, and holds me tight. Fuck, it feels so good when he holds me. As if he’ll never let me go again. As if I’ll never be alone again.
I suck the little nub between my lips, feel his skin tighten, and knowing that I’m the one doing this to him feels so good. So powerful.
“Mmm, yes. Oh, Noah, I want to…” He doesn’t finish the sentence as his voice trails off.
Everything happens in slow motion, at least for me. Luca’s head brushes against mine as he whispers in my ear, gently tugging at my T-shirt. “Can I take this off?”
His warm breath on my skin calms me, but his words make my heart race, and not in a good way. “Ouch, hey, you’re pinching me. Look at me.”
When I don’t react, he slips two fingers under my chin to look me in the eyes. Without pressure I follow his touch, he’d never force me to do anything. “What’s the problem? Talk to me. I want to understand.”
I take a deep breath and try to relax my fingers to not hurt him even more. “I don’t look like you. I… nobody wants to see me. My body.”
Almost annoyed, Luca furrows his eyebrows. “What makes you think that? Who told you that crap?”
“Pierre, in… in swimming class.”
“I’m sure Pierre doesn’t have the faintest clue what I find hot and what I don’t. Tell me, what exactly bothered him about you?”
He’s still looking me straight in the eyes, not letting go of my gaze, no matter how much I want to look away. One hand holds my chin, the other holds me a little tighter.
“He… I don’t know. He laughed and said nobody wants to see that.
Me, I mean… and everyone laughed along with him.
And I have eyes. I know what looks good, and it’s not me.
I don’t have any muscles, or a nice and even complexion.
And my hair—well, it’s not sexy and dark like yours.
” I can’t stand meeting his gaze anymore, those blue eyes feel like they’re looking right inside me.
Oh yeah, I don’t have gorgeous blue eyes either.
I wriggle out of his grip and let my chin drop onto my chest.
“I’ll be honest. If I’d had to put together my dream guy at the start of the semester, he wouldn’t have had red hair.
He’d probably be about my height, and yeah, he’d have an athletic build.
But that doesn’t mean I find you any less attractive just because you don’t fit that mold.
On the contrary, your body is so intriguing.
” He pauses, then looks me up and down. “Is all your hair red? Are your freckles confined to your face and arms, or are they elsewhere too? How does your skin feel? I have so many questions, and so very much to discover.” He pauses again before reaching for my shirt. “May I?”
I give up. It’s pointless—eventually I’ll have to take my clothes off anyway, or he’ll just move on.
I carefully slip out of his embrace and take two steps back.
Then I close my eyes, pull my T-shirt over my head, and wait.
I hear the second hand of the alarm clock and try to count along.
One, two, three, four, five—nothing happens.
Is he even still there? I didn’t hear a door.
Panic rises inside me. I’m making a total fool of myself here. What am I actually waiting for?
“Fuck, Noah, can I touch you? You can say no, but I really hope you don’t.” His voice sounds rough and breathless, urgent, and I have no chance of refusing his request.
“Okay.”
I hear the rustle of clothes, then footsteps, and even though he hasn’t touched me yet, I can feel Luca’s presence.
“Open your eyes, mon Papillon, I want you to see what you’re doing to me.”
Oh, fuck! I swallow hard. Luca is standing right in front of me, naked except for his boxer shorts and white tennis socks. His cock is pressing against the fabric, long and thick. I can’t believe what I’m seeing—him hard for me.
Slowly, very carefully, he reaches out a hand. Two fingers trace the curve of my collarbone with a feather-light touch, wandering from there over my shoulder to my wrist. “Your freckles are everywhere.”
Helplessly, I shrug my shoulders because he’s right.
“So beautiful against your pale skin.”
He has some too, not as many as I do, just two small spots on his shoulders. Why do I find them so beautiful on him and so not at all on myself? And maybe he really does mean what he says… about my freckles.
Luca’s touches grow bolder, his palms rest on my chest and trace my sides. Then he pulls me close. Chest to chest, skin to skin, his cock still stiff between us, a fire burning in his gaze, and for the first time in my life, I feel good in my own body. Desired and seen just as I am.