Chapter 22 #2
Noah pressed his forehead to mine and brought a hand between my legs.
He gave me a fast, firm squeeze, jolting me upward.
I yelped and grabbed onto his shoulders as he pinched and stroked me through my jeans.
The way he grabbed me there, it wasn’t polite.
So far from polite that it bordered on degrading, as if he felt entitled to inspecting me before taking me to bed.
And…I liked it?
I mean, I did. I liked it. And I was positive he knew this because I could feel my pulse hammering in my center. I was pulsing and miserably wet from the drive here, and it was only a matter of time until my arousal soaked through my jeans. If it hadn’t already.
Oh god. He’s going to notice that too.
That was another thing I liked?
No one had ever handled me this way. It felt like I was tiptoeing along the razor’s edge between the kind of sex I knew and understood and something else entirely.
The kind that started with sweet kisses on a Ferris wheel and cartwheeled into orgasming in the middle of the kitchen before anyone got their clothes off.
That would be a first for me.
“I want to touch you like this,” he said, the words barely more than a growl. He scraped a fingernail along the seam of my jeans and I swear, it reverberated all the way into my bones. “I want—fuck, Shay, I can’t even tell you half the things I want.”
“Try,” I whispered, nearly climbing him for more contact, more friction.
He blinked down at me, his lips parted and his breath warm on my cheek. “You’d run out of here so fast you’d leave a cloud of dust behind you.”
“I’ll promise on a stack of jam jars that I won’t.
” I stared at him, my eyes pleading for more.
I needed to know what he was thinking. I needed to know everything.
After all that silence, all those debates about spreading my legs, I required it.
“There’s nothing you can say to me that will be wrong. ”
A blush traveled across his cheeks and over the tips of his ears. He lifted a hand to my neck and pressed his thumb to my pulse. “What if it’s all wrong?”
“It’s not,” I said, trying to nod though his hold on me wouldn’t allow much more than a shaky bob of my head.
He drummed his fingertips between my legs and I couldn’t hold back a loud, needy gasp. “You like that?” he asked, a crooked smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.
“I think you know I do.”
Walking his fingers up to my waistband, he was quick to flip open the button and draw down the zipper.
Instead of shoving a hand into my underwear, he dragged the backs of his fingers over my belly.
Somehow, this made me crazier than anything else.
Forget about pinching my pussy, forget about stroking my thigh to the point of internal combustion.
This, with his fingers on the squish of my belly, had me damn close to begging.
“I want to rip this sweater off you.” He leaned in close to kiss my jaw, his beard scraping over my cheek. “And these jeans. Fuck . Your ass looks like it belongs in my lap when you wear these jeans.” Before I could respond, he added, “I’m sorry. That was—I shouldn’t have said that.”
I met his crinkled gaze and whispered, “More.”
His eyes widened. “More?”
I made another attempt at nodding because it was obvious he didn’t believe me. “Please.”
He blinked away and released a heavy breath. Then, “What if I tear these jeans off you?”
“Please,” I whispered.
“And I tease you through your underwear?”
“Please.”
“And I lick you until your legs give out? Bite your pussy? Fuck you with my fingers? Suck your clit until you see stars?”
I balled my fingers in his shirt, yanked him closer, close enough to feel the hard shaft trapped behind his zipper. Never in my life had I begged for anything. I was prepared to end that streak tonight. “Please.”
He set both hands on the counter, caging me there. “You have to be quiet. I can’t have you waking the kid.”
“I will be quiet.” I pressed a hand over my mouth. “So quiet.”
“And you have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, his tone crisp and stern. “I don’t care what it is, you’ll tell me.”
“Of course.” I moved my hand down his chest to rest on his belt buckle but he took me by the wrist and swiftly moved me away from that area.
“Not yet,” he said as he kissed my jaw and cheeks. “This is about you.”
“But—”
“Shut up, Shay.” With that, he grabbed the waist of my jeans and tugged them down to my knees.
As he dropped down to kneel in front of me, he whispered, “Would you look at this?” He cocked his head to the side to stare at my underwear.
I’d known they were soaked since getting out of the truck but without the insulation of my jeans, the damp spot felt like an ice cube against my flushed skin. “What’s this all about, wife?”
He tapped my underwear and I had to layer both hands over my mouth to keep from crying out.
“I think you know,” I said. “The ride back here was—”
He ran his thumb up the inside of my thigh while he grinned at me. “What was it, Shay? What had you squirming all that time?”
“I didn’t squirm at all.”
Noah reached for the front panel of my underwear and twisted until the fabric gathered and edged between my folds. The pressure was unreal. I covered my mouth again.
“You squirmed,” he said, his focus fixed between my legs.
He drew a finger up one side, down the other.
His complete refusal to touch me where I needed it the most brought me back to that razor’s edge and I knew nothing would be the same after this.
Not for me and not for us. “That’s why I held you down the whole trip. ”
Something inside my brain unraveled and then that looseness spilled down my back and into my belly. Something that loved him knowing what I needed and then giving it to me before I could ask or even identify it. “Is that what you were doing?”
He locked his hands around the backs of my thighs and leaned into me.
He gave another tug to my underwear, pinning them against my clit as he scraped his scruffy chin along my inner thighs.
My legs were ready to give out but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
Not until I found an outlet for the pressure building low in my belly.
“Does this pussy taste as good as I imagine?”
“I—I don’t know,” I admitted.
He glanced up at me, the wicked glint in his eyes the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. “I’ll decide for myself.”
Smiling to himself, he skimmed my underwear down, one deliberate inch after another. Instead of diving in there and solving this mystery once and for all, he traced my slit with one lazy finger until I choked out, “Noah, please .”
“No more teasing?”
I shook my head. “No. Maybe a little. Okay, yes, tease me but also—”
He laughed. “That’s what I thought.”
I wanted to be offended. I wanted to be incensed by his righteous chuckling. But he bowed his head to my mound and circled his tongue around my clit, and all I could do was shove my fingers into his hair and hold him against me.
He held me open with both thumbs, baring every last inch of me to his tongue.
He sucked me hard, just as he’d promised, and the stars behind my eyes were incredible.
“I need,” I whispered, my shoulders hunching forward as my muscles strained and softened all at once.
“I need—I need—I need something. Inside me. Please. ”
He growled against me in response, shifting one hand to my sopping core and pumping two fingers into me.
Another finger rhythmically tapped my back channel and though I’d found mild interest in that before, it shot a bolt of lightning through me and coalesced all the nerves in my body to this overwhelming throb waiting to break free.
“Get there for me,” he said, the words muffled as I rocked against his mouth.
I wanted to be that girl, the one who would get there simply because someone told her to, but I wasn’t. I needed more, just a little more, and then I could do it. But not yet.
And Noah recognized that.
He turned his wrist, his fingers moving inside me from a different angle and adding new pressure on my back channel.
He worked my clit like he was trying to suck the ghost of orgasms past from me.
And then, when it seemed like we’d come this far only for it to fall apart, he tipped his head to the side and
—bit—
—his—
—way—
—down—
—my—
—labia—
These weren’t the kind of bites to break skin or leave a mark.
They were nips, sharp pinches between teeth.
And they set me on fire. A sob gasped out of me and I notched my fist to my mouth to stay quiet and it was that requirement that forced me to feel all of the explosion.
I couldn’t hide from it with moans or flailing cries.
I couldn’t roll over and bury my face in a pillow or even snuggle into his shoulder.
I had to stand here, my jeans at my knees and the scent of my arousal thick around us, and I had to surrender to an orgasm that redefined everything I knew about my body and how it could react.
When I couldn’t take much more and I eased Noah away from me, he glanced up, his face shiny with my arousal. “Come here,” I whispered.
He pushed to his feet as I grabbed the front of his shirt, towing him closer. “How was that?”
I laughed though I was breathing heavy and it sounded like a wheeze. “I think you know it was pretty good.”
“It wasn’t”—he glanced away, his brows furrowed—“too much?”
“I think I needed too much.” I went for his belt buckle again but he pinned my hand behind my back. “Why not?”
“Because I’d like the next portion of this night to last longer than forty-five seconds but that’s all we’re going to get if you touch me.”
“I don’t get to touch you at all?”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “Don’t pout. It makes me think about—you just can’t do that to me, Shay. Not right now.”
“What can I do?”