Chapter 30 GABE #3
The words hit like a match to dry tinder. My whole body lights up, hips jerking erratically, and I spill in my sweats with a choked sound, grinding helplessly through it.
Noah’s groan is guttural, his hips snapping up hard, once, twice, before he follows, coming against me, panting into my hair.
The only sound in the room is our heavy breathing as we come down from the high.
I’m boneless, every muscle loose, but my chest is on fire with emotions I'm afraid to name. When I look at him, the feeling only swells. It’s overwhelming.
The depth of my affection for him is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.
It’s terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
Noah’s hands are still on me, caressing my damp back under my shirt while I’m sprawled on top of him.
“You okay?” he asks, tipping his head back to look at me.
“Yeah.” My voice is hoarse. Then realization hits, and my cheeks flame. “I… I came in my pants…” I burrow my face into his neck and let out an embarrassed groan. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
Noah uses his finger to tip my chin back up, and a slow grin spreads across his face, the picture of smug satisfaction. He reaches to brush a thumb along my hairline. “I know, baby. So did I. You were so fucking sexy. I could watch you do that every morning.”
Every morning.
The words spread through me, a feeling of contentment filling my chest. I let out a shaky laugh, ducking my face back into his neck so he doesn’t see how red I am.
I can feel the mess between us, damp and sticky against fabric, but I don’t move. I just stay there, pressed against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest under my palm.
Eventually, it gets uncomfortable. I squirm, and he feels it immediately.
“Wait here,” he murmurs against my forehead, his voice still strained from coming. “I’ll grab something.”
He slips out of bed and pads to the bathroom. My face burns as I stare at the ceiling, embarrassed by how badly I want him to come back. How much I want him to take care of me.
I hear the bathroom sink run for a moment, then he’s back, kneeling on the mattress with a warm cloth in hand.
My face heats. “You really don’t have to do —”
“Gabe.” His voice is soft but firm. “I told you before, I want to.”
It’s the response I didn’t even realize I needed so badly.
He takes his time, swiping the cloth gently over my stomach, then lower, wiping away the mess with so much care it makes my throat tight.
I’m embarrassed that he’s looking at my soft cock, but not enough to stop him.
I run my fingers through his hair as he does it, which seems to please him.
A soft hum leaves him. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t look away.
My eyes sting, and a small sniffle escapes me.
The longer it goes on, the hotter my face gets. I lower my head, muttering, “I must look ridiculous. Getting all overwhelmed by… by this.”
Noah smiles softly. “You don’t. You look cared for, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying it,” he replies simply, and I melt a little. “And I like taking care of you.” Okay, I melt a lot.
When he finishes, he tosses the cloth into the hamper and grabs a pair of clean sweats and a T-shirt from the dresser for me, and another set for himself.
“Here you go,” he says, offering me the clothes before peeling off his own and cleaning himself off with another cloth I hadn’t realized he’d brought in.
He’s standing there naked, and all I can do is stare.
His body is a work of art, carved from hours at the gym.
Sun-kissed skin and golden hair. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
How did it take me so long to notice that?
I have the urge to ask him to turn around so I can finally get a good look at his compass tattoo, but I feel too awkward to speak the words.
I dress slowly, fingers clumsy with leftover adrenaline, watching the way his muscles flex as he pulls his clothes on.
His top is a little big on me, he’s much broader than I am, but it smells like him.
I drag the neckline up to my nose and breathe it in.
And of course, he catches me, giving me a sly grin and a wink as heat rushes to my cheeks.
God, this man needs to stop winking at me, or I might actually combust.
When we’re both dressed, Noah slips under the blanket again and pats the space beside him with a playful smile.
“You look good in my clothes, baby.”
I climb in with roaring red cheeks, the warmth of him already seeping into me.
He pulls the covers up around us, and he’s close enough that I can feel his breath against my temple. “You should get used to this,” he murmurs, “because I want to take care of you like this every chance I get, if you’ll let me.”
The promise makes my chest feel funny. It’s not a bad feeling, more like there’s something too big trying to fit where it never has before. But what makes me feel like I could float is that he said, if you’ll let me.
He nuzzles into my neck. “Let’s cuddle for a bit longer.”
I curl closer until my nose brushes his throat. I let my eyes fall shut, holding onto him.