Chapter 3 #4
Noelle’s lips part slightly, her eyes searching his face for something. Her breathing is a little shallow, but she doesn’t look scared.
In fact, she looks almost ready to pounce.
I nod in agreement. “You say ‘enough,’ and it’s over. No questions asked.”
Her gaze flicks toward me then.
For a heartbeat, it’s just the two of us. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing as the weight of what we’re offering settles in.
The silence that follows hums, and when she does finally nod, the gesture feels monumental.
“Okay.”
She rises to her feet without taking her eyes off Grant.
The shift is so subtle I almost miss it—the faint tremor in her fingers, the flicker of decision that crosses her face before she starts to move. His eyes follow her every step as she closes the space between them.
Then, she sinks slowly to her knees between his legs, and Jesus Christ the image alone is enough to steal the breath from my lungs.
He looks down at her, the muscle in his jaw flexing as his hand rises halfway to her face before pausing midair, so close to touching her that it hurts to watch.
“You sure?” he asks.
She nods. “Truth or dare, Grant?”
He leans back in a silent surrender.
His broad shoulders relax just a bit as a small exhale leaves him.
The tension bleeds out of his frame like he’s made his peace with whatever comes next. “Dare.”
Her tongue flicks out, wetting her bottom lip, and I swear Grant’s eyes darken at the sight. “I dare you to let me touch you.”
His throat bobs when he swallows.
That stoic mask he’s worn all night cracks and beneath it he looks undone, like he’s been waiting for this exact moment longer than he’s ever allowed himself to admit.
He exhales again, this time softer. “Go on then, beautiful.”
Her fingers find the waistband of his jeans first.
She drags her touch higher, tracing along the seam of his jeans, up toward his belt.
She glances up at him, just once, and he answers by finally lowering his hand, not to stop her but to finally touch her.
His fingers cup her jaw, tentative at first, then firmer when she doesn’t pull away.
His thumb ghosts over the soft skin of her cheek, moving to press against her bottom lip.
She tilts her face into his palm, the warmth of his hand grounding her as her fingers move to unclip his buckle.
When she drags the zipper down slowly, the sound is deafening in the still room.
Grant’s muscles tense, his breath escaping in a quiet curse that vibrates low in his chest.
He lifts his hips just enough to help her, the denim sliding down over strong thighs until only the thin waistband of his dark briefs remains.
The cotton stretches tight across the hard bulge beneath and she leans forward, her breath brushing against the thin fabric covering him there before pressing her lips to it.
Her mouth lingers just long enough to make him draw in a sharp breath through his teeth.
When Grant’s eyes lift, they find mine across the room.
There’s nothing playful in the look he gives me—just a silent command, a flick of his chin that sends heat straight through me.
I shift off the couch, knees sinking into the rug, and crawl toward them without a second thought.
By the time I reach them, my heartbeat is a steady pulse in my ears.
My hands find her back, tracing the smooth expanse of her skin exposed above the hem of her jeans, my fingers gliding up the delicate curve of her spine with a reverence that feels almost instinctual.
The fabric of her shirt shifts under my touch as my fingers climb higher, threading into the thick, silken strands of her hair that fall over her shoulders.
I tug gently and she shivers at the contact, her breath catching in a sound that sends a jolt through me.
It’s intoxicating the way her body responds so openly to the smallest of my touches.
“Okay?” I murmur. I’m not sure if I’m asking for permission to keep going or seeking reassurance that she’s as lost in this as I am. The question hangs in the air as my fingers linger in her hair, my thumb brushing the nape of her neck.
She doesn’t look back at me to break the spell of her focus.
Instead, another quiet groan vibrates through her as she leans forward, her lips mapping a slow path up Grant’s abdomen, tracing the taut line of skin just above his waistband.
His thumb brushes along her jawline, a tender and absent-minded gesture that seems to anchor her as much as it grounds him.
Her fingers move with purpose, deftly looping under the waistband of his briefs.
She tugs them down past his hips in one smooth motion, the fabric pooling at his thighs.
His cock springs free, heavy and thick, nearly grazing her cheek with its sudden release.
The sight of it—of her so close and barely flinching sends a pulse of heat through me.
My grip tightens briefly in her hair.
Grant’s head tips back, his jaw clenching as a low, guttural sound escapes him, his control fraying at the edges.
Her hand wraps around him, her fingers curling with just the right pressure.
She strokes him in long, even strokes, her palm rolling over the slick head of his cock with each pass, drawing a faint sheen of precum that glistens in the dim light.
The rhythm she sets is almost teasing and I can see the way Grant’s chest rises and falls, his breathing coming faster now.
Her lips hover just above his head, close enough that the warmth of her breath ghosts over his skin like a fleeting promise of what’s to come.
Then, agonizingly slow, she presses her lips to the underside of his tip, her tongue flicking out just enough to taste him.
“Fuck,” Grant mutters, the word punched out of him. His other hand twitches at his side like he’s fighting the urge to grab her and pull her closer.
My hands, restless now, slide down her sides to trace the gentle dip of her waist.
Her body is a map of soft curves, each touch drawing a new reaction from her.
I slip my hands under her shirt, the fabric bunching as my fingers graze her bare skin.
She shivers again in a full-body response that makes my pulse race, her sensitivity amplifying the heat building between us.
My thumbs brush the soft skin just above her hips and I can’t help but marvel at how perfectly she fits against me, how every touch seems to pull her deeper into this shared rhythm.
Her head bobs now, taking Grant deeper, her lips sliding along his length making wet noises as she sucks on him.
His eyes darken, heavy-lidded and intense as he watches her move, his gaze fixed on the way her mouth works him over.
There’s something almost reverent in his expression, a mix of awe and hunger that mirrors the tightness in my own chest.
Grant’s hand moves to her hair now, his fingers threading gently through the strands, guiding her movements without forcing her to swallow all of him at once.
“God, you’re—” he starts, but the words dissolve into a low groan as her tongue swirls over him.
My lips find the nape of her neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin there.
She shudders, the motion rippling through her body, and Grant feels the vibration of her muffled moan around his cock.
I slide one hand higher, cupping the curve of her breast through the thin fabric of her bra, my thumb brushing over the hardened peak underneath.
Her breath hitches, her rhythm faltering for just a moment.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” Grant mutters, his voice rough, strained. His hips shift slightly, a subtle roll that betrays how much he’s holding back.
She responds by taking him deeper, her hand still working in tandem with her mouth, stroking what her lips can’t reach.
I slip my other hand lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of her jeans, teasing the soft skin above her hipbone.
She tenses briefly then relaxes into my touch, her hips tilting back toward me in silent encouragement.
My lips move to her ear and I murmur, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
Grant’s hand tightens in her hair, his breaths coming faster now, more ragged.
“I’m close,” he warns.
She hums in response, the vibration drawing another curse from him.
My hands roam her body, one still teasing beneath her shirt, the other slipping over to the button of her jeans.
I undo the button slowly, letting the anticipation build as my fingers dip lower, finding the heat of her through the fabric of her underwear.
She’s soaking wet.
She gasps and the way her body trembles under my touch is enough to make my head spin.
My fingers hook around the soft fabric of her underwear to find the slick heat of her.
Her hips buck slightly, chasing my touch, and I can’t help the low groan that escapes me, the sound muffled against her neck.
She’s caught between us now, her body a conduit for the pleasure we’re all chasing.
Each of us is feeding off the other’s reactions.
Her hand on Grant speeds up, matching the rhythm of my fingers plunging inside her wet hole.
“Shit, I’m—” Grant’s warning comes out choked, his head tipping back as his hips jerk upward on reflex when he spills into her mouth.
She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she takes him through it with a steady, unrelenting rhythm that leaves him shuddering.
His hand in her hair loosens, his fingers stroking gently now down her jaw in an almost tender way as he murmurs something too soft to catch.
She pulls back slowly, her lips glistening, and the sight of her flushed and breathless sends a fresh wave of heat pulsating through me.
My hand finds the front of her neck, fingers splaying firmly against the delicate column of her throat.
Her pulse hammers beneath my palm as I tilt her head back, guiding her until her body is flush against my chest.
My fingers are still buried in her heat, a slow and torturous pace that keeps her teetering on the edge of her orgasm.
I can feel the way her walls clench around me, desperate for more, each subtle shift of her hips a silent plea. I don’t let up.
Instead, I scissor them inside her with just enough pressure to make her squirm.
Her breath comes out in short, ragged gasps. “Oh, god. Please.”
I answer her plea by adding another finger and plunging all three into her slick heat at the same time, stretching her.
The way she opens for me, warm and unyielding, is almost too much.
I pump my fingers over and over again, curling them and finding the spot that makes her hips buck against my hand.
Her moans grow louder and more desperate as she presses herself flush against me, seeking more.
A rustle of fabric pulls my attention away from her for a brief moment, a soft but distinct sound coming from behind me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Cal.
He’s hovering close by, his movements jerky as he shoves his pants down past his hips in one fluid motion.
The fabric pools at his feet, and he steps free, his cock springing loose. He grips the base of it, his knuckles tightening.
The head is flushed a deep, angry red that glistens with precum.
Cal moves closer, his steps almost predatory.
His eyes are fixed on Noelle with an intensity that matches my own.
He stops just in front of her, close enough that I can feel the subtle shift in her body as she senses his presence.
His hand guides his cock toward her, the wet tip brushing against her parted lips, leaving a faint sheen in its wake.
She groans, her lips parting instinctively to welcome him.
Her tongue flicks out to taste him.
Cal’s breath hitches, betraying the control he’s obviously been trying to maintain.
His hand finds her hair, fingers threading through the strands to slip himself deeper into her mouth.
My lips return to her neck, grazing the sensitive skin that’s already starting to bruise as I murmur against her, “You’re so fucking perfect.”
His hips shift slightly, a subtle thrust that she meets with a hum of approval, the vibration drawing a groan from him that echoes through the room.
Cal’s hand in her hair tightens slightly, his fingers flexing as he fights to keep his control. His hips rock forward, matching the rhythm she’s set.
“Fuck, Noelle,” he mumbles as her tongue swirls over him, drawing out another low groan.
I curl my fingers inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her gasp.
Her breath catches a sharp, needy sound that vibrates around Cal.
My thumb circles her clit slowly, making her body tighten again.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” I whisper against her ear.
She nods a small, desperate movement while her lips still work over Cal.
Her focus is unwavering even as her body begins to unravel.
The contrast is intoxicating—her control over him, her surrendering to me, the way she’s holding us both in this delicate balance that neither of us can pull away from.
Cal’s hand moves to her cheek, his thumb brushing over her flushed skin as he murmurs, “Look at me.”
His voice is soft but commanding, and her eyes flick up to meet his immediately. The connection between them is palpable, a silent exchange that has me plunging my fingers even deeper inside her.
I shift my hand at her throat. “Come for me.”
It’s like flipping a switch.
Her body seizes, a sharp gasp escaping her as she shatters, her walls pulsing around my fingers as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.
I hold her through it, my arm moving down to wrap around her waist to keep her steady as she trembles against me.
Cal’s breathing grows more erratic, his hand tightening in her hair as he mutters, “Fuck, I’m…”
His words cut off in a low groan, his body tensing as he spills into her mouth. Her lips and tongue working him until he’s trembling.
His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. His hand softens in her hair, stroking gently now in a silent thank you as he leans back, pulling himself free from her mouth.
I pull my fingers out of her, bring them up to my lips to suck on. I moan as her taste fills my mouth, my own cock twitching against the seam of my jeans.
Noelle turns slightly to look at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are glassy with need, looking nowhere near satisfied.
The expression has me smirking and popping my fingers out of my mouth.
“On your hands and knees, sweetheart.”