35. Sabrina
CHAPTER 35
SAbrINA
I reach around and tug at the zipper to the dress, thankful Noah didn’t mention anything about leaving it on. When Ebba pulled it off a rack in her room this afternoon, I instantly fell in love. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t have picked the light blue shade myself, but I found myself entranced by it the second she held it out to me.
“Ugh,” I groan when the zipper refuses to budge.
A knock on my door interrupts my grappling.
Shit. Worried I forgot something Maddie needs, I rush across the room. But when I throw it open, Maddie and Ebba aren’t the ones hovering in the hallway.
Noah plows into me, pushing me back against the wall, and behind him, the door shuts with a too-loud clang.
“How did you get back here so soon?” I ask between kisses.
Though I spent an hour chatting with Ebba in her room, I figured Noah would be gone for a while longer.
He turns me around, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin of my neck as he pulls the zipper down. It gets stuck halfway down my spine, refusing to budge, and rather than easing it up and trying again, he grasps the top of the garment and yanks hard on the little tab. Instantly, a telltale ripping sound fills the air.
“Noah!” I shriek, clasping at the loose fabric covering my chest. “Ebba’s going to kill me.”
He spins me back around, then takes a step back to shuck off his tux jacket and yank at his bow tie with impatient fingers. “I’ll buy her a new one.”
I release my hold on the now ruined dress, and the fabric falls to the floor.
With a groan, he palms his hardening cock over his pants. “Jesus, fuck. Curls. How did I get so lucky?” His eyes rake me over, taking in the lacy white strapless bra and matching panties. “You look like a dream.”
With a single step closer, I work his tie free and drop it to the floor. It’s been a long day, but suddenly, I’m feeling recharged. How could I not when my body craves his like a drug?
A slight shiver courses through him when I work the button at his Adam’s apple free. Quickly, I move to the next, and he starts at the bottom and works his way up. We meet in the middle, and then I slip my hands beneath the garment and slide it over his shoulders. He shrugs out of it, then tugs his undershirt over his head and tosses it.
When it lands on the lampshade beside the bed, we burst into a fit of laughter.
Cupping my cheeks, he lowers his lips to mine, and my laughter quickly turns to a moan.
I sink into him, slipping my hands down his pecs and abs to the trail of hair from his navel to his waistband.
With two fingers, he tilts my head to the side, then peppers kisses down the length of my neck and over my left shoulder.
Then, without warning, he picks me up.
I squeal in surprise and cling to him as he carries me across the room. Rather than take me to the bed, though, he strides to the window.
The glass is darkly tinted, making it impossible for people outside to see in when the room is this dark. Even so, when he whispers, “I want all of London to watch me fuck my girl,” a thrill courses through me.
Never in my life have I craved belonging to a man, yet when Noah calls me his? I eat it up like a gourmet dessert.
He spins me around and flicks the clasp on my bra, and the flimsy fabric tumbles to the floor.
When he forces me forward until my breasts are pressed against the cool glass, I gasp, and goose bumps prickle my skin.
Behind me, he drops to his knees and carefully removes my underwear. He lifts one foot, then the other, and stuffs the panties into his pocket.
“Weirdo,” I tease.
He spanks my ass, the loud slap echoing through the dark room.
Though I writhe and heat pools low in my belly, I humph . “That hurt.”
“Don’t mock me, then.” He smooths his hand over the skin he just roughened. “God, look at you. So pretty and all mine.” Slowly, he grazes the backs of my thighs with his fingertips, then finds my core. He strokes my sensitive clit a few times before slipping in just an inch.
I wiggle backward, desperate for more.
Instead, I receive another smack.
“Bastard.”
Chuckling darkly, he moves in closer, and just when I think he’s going to lap at my folds, he bites my butt cheek. The slight pain that radiates from the sharp pinch is joined by a wave of pleasure.
Fuck.
Sitting back on his haunches, he assesses his handiwork and groans.
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy for you.”
Before I can tease him for being cheesy as fuck, he shoves two fingers into my core and curls them, using his thumb to rub my clit at the same time.
“Holy shit.” My hands shake against the glass and when he adds his tongue, I’m certain I’ll melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Come on, baby,” he croons, pumping his fingers. “I know you’re almost there. This sweet pussy is milking my fingers. You want my cock, don’t you? But not yet.”
When the orgasm hits, my legs wobble. The stilettos make the reaction that much more violent.
Noah holds me up with one arm wrapped around my stomach. Fabric rustles behind me, then his pants touch my overly sensitive skin. Before the aftershocks have fully faded, he slams into me, and instantly, I crest another wave. This orgasm makes my vision go spotty, and for a moment I worry I’ll pass out.
He’s going to kill me.
Death by orgasm.
What a way to go.
At least I’ll die happy.
“You’re not going to die,” he grits out.
Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Without slowing his movements, he hikes his leg up onto the chair beside us. The change in his position allows him to hit the perfect space deep inside me, and with each stroke, I’m wound tighter once more.
“You’re so fucking pretty taking my cock like a good girl.”
“Mm,” I whimper, face pressed to the glass.
“You’re fucking soaked, baby.” He presses his chest to my back, the heat of him there in complete juxtaposition to the cool glass at my front, and presses gentle kisses at my nape, then down my back. “You’ve fucking ruined me. Do you realize that?”
I reach back and clutch him, my nails dig into his thigh. “Don’t stop. I’m close.”
It seems impossible that I’m on the verge of another orgasm. The only conclusion I can draw is that Noah has a magic dick and fingers.
His grip on my hips is bruising, but it only serves to ramp up my need.
“Almost—fuck,” I curse as I go over the edge.
When I come back down from the high, he drops into the chair, spinning me and bringing me with him so I’m straddling his lap. In one smooth thrust, he’s back inside me.
I whimper, my pussy raw but still so damn needy.
Hands on his thighs, I lean back and roll my hips.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, cupping my breasts and brushing over my nipples with his thumbs. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. Look at you riding my cock like you own it.”
Another wave of heat washes through me. This man. If he doesn’t stop, his dirty talk alone will cause me to orgasm again.
“Your little pussy was made to take this cock, wasn’t it?” He licks and sucks at my left nipple before moving to the right. “You take it so good.”
Shuddering, I close my eyes. “Yes,” I pant.
He grips my face, his touch rough as he squeezes my lips together. “Yes, what?”
My eyes fly open, and I suck in a harsh breath. “Yes, I was made to take this cock.”
He grins, triumphant, and his thumb finds my clit. “Good girl.”
I whimper. “Noah. Too… it’s too much.”
“You can take it.” He works me up, right to the edge, and stops.
I cry out as the impending orgasm flutters away and squeeze my muscles around him.
Head thrown back, he curses.
“Payback is a bitch.”
“Payback?” He growls, straightening and clutching the globes of my ass. “I’ll show you fucking payback.”
He lifts me, his cock sliding out, slick with my arousal.
I squeal and try to cling to him, but before I can, he turns me around and lowers me to the chair so my chest is pressed into the fabric and I’m forced to turn my head to the side. With bruising intensity, he grips my hips and slams back into me.
I scream, fingers digging into the carpet on either side of the chair, my feet wobbling in my heels.
“Noah,” I gasp. “Oh my God.” My words dissolve into a garbled chant. “Right-fucking-yes-there-holy-shit. Oh-my-fucking-God-I-love-your-dick.”
His laugh is dark and dangerous.
“You’resofuckingdeep.” The words come out slurred together. “I can feel you in my throat.”
He grunts, the sound punctuated by a thrust. “Bet you can’t, but I’d be happy to deep throat that gorgeous mouth.”
I whimper over the very idea of it. “Mm-yes-maybe-later-if-I’m-still-alive.”
Fingers trembling against my hips, he ruts into me even harder.
“Yes-yes-yes,” I chant.
Without warning, a violent orgasm sweeps over me, and a scream tears from my throat. My core spasms and pulses, then wetness runs down my thighs.
“Holy shit,” Noah breathes. “You squirted all over my cock, baby. I’m fucking soaked.”
I think I respond, but I can’t be sure. Not when I’m having an out-of-body experience. I’m going to need approximately five business days to recover and a doctor’s note that says sorry, Noah Baker fucked my brains out.
His moves have slowed, though he pumps into me with the same intensity, and half a dozen strokes later, he stiffens and holds me tighter, then, with a moan, he unleashes inside me, coming in pulses. When he’s spent, he drapes himself over my back, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together. He places kisses over every inch he can reach before lying down on the floor and pulling me on top of him.
“I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow.”
His lips lift in a slow smile. “Good.”
“Jerk.” I swat his chest, but a smile creeps up my face.
He kisses the tip of my nose.
I nearly laugh. The contrast between his gentleness now and the rough way he fucked me seems almost impossible.
“We should shower.”
I hum against him. “We should.”
“In a minute.”
A minute passes.
Two.
Three.
When his release begins to seep out of me, I poke his side. “Shower?”
“Right.” Stifling a yawn, he stands and hauls me into his arms so I cling to the front of him like a koala.
Inside the bathroom, he flicks the light on and sets me down on the counter.
When my heated skin makes contact with the cool marble, I let out a low hiss. “Cold.”
Although, the cold stone might help my no doubt bruised vagina after the beating she took.
He turns the shower on, and while we wait for the water to warm, he digs a scrunchie out of my toiletries bag and pulls my hair back.
“How do I look?” I ask while he admires his handiwork.
“Thoroughly fucked.”
“Shut up.” Laughing, I drop my forehead to his chest. “Ugh,” I groan. “Everything hurts.”
“We’ll go to bed soon,” he replies, ghosting his fingers down my spine.
“Sure.” I yawn.
He eases me off the counter, then drags me into the walk-in shower, where he guides me to the built-in shower seat. Once again, my body protests at the temperature of the marble. In moments, though, my muscles begin to relax, and when he wets my loofah and cleans every inch of my skin, I go boneless.
My cheeks heat as I watch him turn his attention to his own body. Maybe I should be grossed out that he uses my loofah to clean himself. Instead, I find it endearingly intimate.
When he’s scrubbed every inch and thoroughly rinsed away the suds, he tugs me up and into the water, careful not to get my hair wet, and runs his hands over my body until all the soap is gone.
He shuts the water off, then quickly steps out, reaching for a towel. Once he’s wrapped it around me, he grabs one for himself. We dry off and climb into the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.
It’s the best night of sleep I think I’ve ever had.