Chapter 30 GABE #2
A needy sound escapes me, making his eyes flutter, and a moan leaves him. It’s like I can feel the wet heat of his mouth on every inch of my body. Then he pulls off with a wet pop, chest rising and falling deeply.
I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, we’re kissing. Something hungry sparks between us. It’s instant. His hand cups the back of my neck, thumb brushing over the hinge of my jaw, and my body burns with how badly I want him.
The kiss deepens, grows messy. His tongue brushes mine, and I whimper against his mouth, arching toward him before I can stop myself. Our cocks press together through fabric, and it feels so good, my eyes almost roll back.
Noah moves us with ease until he’s above me, settling between my legs. I bring my legs around his thighs, dragging him closer, as his weight pins me to the mattress. The thick outline of his cock presses against mine, hot and solid, his chest presses into mine—and suddenly I’m not here.
I’m in the past.
Back under someone else’s hands.
Breath knocked out of me.
Pinned.
Trapped.
Forced.
My whole body goes rigid. My hands claw at his hoodie. My breathing turns erratic, panic crawling fast up my throat.
Noah notices immediately. He freezes, then rolls off me without hesitation, putting us face-to-face again, both of us on our sides. His hand cups my cheek carefully, bringing me back to the moment. Back with him.
“Baby. Hey, look at me,” he says, his voice level. But his eyes are wide, guilt etched into his features as he searches my face.
I hate that look. I shake my head hard and kiss him before he can say more—messy, desperate. I need to get that look off his face. He didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want to lose this moment because of my past. I don’t want to lose him.
When I pull back, my breath is still shaky, and he looks like he’s about to speak, but I cut him off, “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Please don’t.”
Noah hesitates, swallowing roughly as his eyes flick between mine. “Okay, maybe we should stop?”
“I don’t want to stop.” I tell him, his chest rises and falls deeply as fingers trace my throat. “Do you want to stop?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I never want to stop touching you, but I also don't ever want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You don't.” I respond truthfully. I kiss him again, slower this time, feeling the tension bleed out of me. The fear is still there, lingering in the back of my mind, but I push it away. It doesn’t belong here. This is Noah, and he’d never hurt me.
When my breathing steadies, I press my mouth to the corner of his jaw, then lower, kissing along the strong line of his throat. His pulse kicks under my lips, and the sound he makes has heat licking up my spine.
I want him to feel good. I want to be the one making Noah feel good.
I was passive before—letting him take care of me, letting him touch and guide until I couldn’t think.
But now I want to give something back. I keep kissing along his throat, nipping and lightly sucking, until his hand finds my hip and he squeezes gently.
“Baby,” he murmurs, voice laced with approval, guiding me until I’m the one between his thighs.
The shift makes my pulse frantic, not with fear this time, but with something headier. Noah sprawls back against the pillow, letting me settle over him, his hands loose on my waist, tethering me there, not controlling my movements.
The way he looks at me—open, trusting, all soft edges despite how big he is—makes something sweet and hot flow through me. The heat of him under me is dizzying. I rock my hips once, just to feel the shape of him, and the flush that spreads over Noah’s cheeks catches me off guard.
“Is this okay?” I ask, suddenly feeling uncertain.
Noah lets out a shaky laugh, but the smile he gives me is genuine, warm, and charming, if not a little lopsided. “Yeah,” he says. He clears his throat. “Just… I, uh, I’ve never been the one in this position before.”
The words hit me like a jolt.
“You mean… you’ve never?”
He shakes his head, an unusually shy smile on his face as he runs his thumbs up my sides. Something about that makes my stomach flip in a dozen different ways. It’s a rush, an exciting kind of thrill to know that nobody else has ever been here with him, not like this.
That this is mine.
But right on the heels of that is a spike of worry that I’ll do something wrong, that I don’t know what I’m doing, that I don’t even know what I want anymore. I used to know. Or I thought I did.
Bottoming was assumed. I was always more submissive. I didn’t have to think, just… endure. But now the thought of anyone pinning me down makes me want to bolt, and the idea of doing that to Noah? The thought makes me feel powerful but also… lost. Is that what I want? Is that what he wants?
I start to shift back, ready to move off him before I can really ruin this, but Noah must see it in my face, the panic and doubt creeping in.
Before I can go anywhere, his legs slide up around my hips, holding me in place.
The move isn’t forceful—his heels settling against the backs of my thighs until we’re pressed flush, cock to cock.
The pressure pulls a low sound out of me before I can hold it in. I hadn’t even noticed I’d started to go soft, too lost in my head, but the heat of him against me is bringing me right back.
Noah watches me with dark eyes. “Hey,” he says, his voice resonant, moving through me and pulling me back to him. “Stay here with me. Please?”
I nod, staying silent, because I can’t make words work. It’s the please that does me in, knowing he wants me here, that maybe he wants me in a way he hasn’t wanted anyone before.
When I grind against him again, I feel how hard he is, and the rush of it makes my pulse hammer.
I’m not sure what this means yet. What I want long term—sexually, I mean—I know I want the day-to-day intimacy we have, the comfort and affection we share.
But whether I’ll ever be ready to be inside him or have him inside me, that I don’t know.
But right now?
Right now, I know I want this.
I want him.
And from the way Noah’s breath stutters, the gritty sound he lets out when I roll my hips again, he wants it too. I shift against him, testing each movement, and feel him twitch under me.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he whispers, voice like velvet. “Fuck, you feel so good grinding on me, baby.”
Heat floods my face, but I don’t stop. His praise slides right under my skin, turning everything in me hot.
The friction feels incredible, our sweats dragging together, every movement sending sparks lighting up every one of my nerve endings.
One arm braced by his head, the other finds its way under his hoodie to his chest, feeling the solid muscle of him under my palm.
His nipple pebbles under my touch, and I can feel his heart hammering as hard as mine.
Noah hands skim my sides under the shirt I’m wearing before settling at my ribs, holding me close. He spreads his fingers, covering as much ground as he can with calloused hands. The touch makes me feel safe, protected. Claimed. “So fucking gorgeous like this, Gabe. Taking what you want.”
My hips jerk harder at his words, chasing the pressure. I bite down on my lip to keep quiet, the sound that wants to tear out of me too loud for the thin walls. Noah notices, and his mouth curves into a wicked smile.
“Gonna wake Ciarán if you’re not careful,” he teases, voice a husky whisper. “You wanna do that, baby? Wanna let him hear how good you’re making me feel?”
My whole body shivers. “N-No,” I stammer, practically panting, but a small part of me wants everyone to know I’m making him feel like this. Wants everyone to hear the grunts and groans falling from his lips just for me.
He grins, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Hmm. Guess we gotta be quiet then, yeah?”
There’s a challenge in his voice that makes me whimper. Does he want people to hear us?
I nod fast, dizzy with how much I want him. He lets out a satisfied hum, “Just this once, though. You know I love all those sounds.”
Noah thrusts up, meeting the next roll of my hips, and the feeling of our cocks grinding together through cotton makes my toes curl.
“Yes, Blue,” I whisper before I can stop myself, and Noah groans, pulling me down for a kiss that swallows the sound.
The kiss turns messy, fiery—tongues sliding—until my head spins. The thick ridge of his cock presses hard against mine.
“Just like that,” he pants against my mouth, louder than he should, but I love the sound too much to quiet him. “Fuck, you’re so hard for me. That big cock, so perfect fucking into me.”
The visual shoots straight to my balls. A broken sound leaves me. “Noah—”
“Yeah, baby, say my name. Love hearing you like this. Love seeing you take pleasure from me.” His voice is encouraging, and it makes me push harder, faster, chasing every word like a reward. I want him to tell me more. I want him to call me a good boy again. I bite my lip against the thought.
Noah brings his hand to my face, using his thumb to pull my lip free.
I bring it into my mouth, sucking hard, making him choke on a curse.
All I can see is Noah. All I can taste is Noah.
All I can feel is Noah. He’s my whole world—my sun, my moon, my universe.
Everything else falls away until there’s only him.
The bed creaks, each thrust dragging our cocks together, my underwear damp now with precum.
The heat of him dragging against me, and it’s so much—too much.
I let his thumb fall from my mouth, and my head drops to his shoulder, muffling my gasps against his hoodie.
His scent is everywhere—sweat and warm skin—and it makes me lightheaded, drunk on him.
“You close?” he murmurs, thumb brushing over my hip bone in slow circles.
I nod franticly, and he kisses the side of my throat, just under my jaw. The wet caress of his lips against my stubble feels so good. “Such a good boy. Come for me, baby. I need it.”