Chapter 21 #4
“Yes,” I croak as he eases me down, centimeter by centimeter, onto his length. Rock-hard and impossibly long.
My mouth falls open with a moan as Noah guides me down every inch.
“Breathe through it,” he murmurs.
I try to do as he says. Breathing deeply through my nose, out through my mouth, and it takes every ounce of concentration not to tense up and clamp down on him.
Each time I think I’ve taken all of it, he keeps going. He stares at me like he’s trying to commit every second of this to memory.
“You’re about halfway,” he breathes.
“Halfway?” I yelp. There’s no way I’ve only taken half—
When I glance down to where we’re joined, I gulp. He’s right. Hell, I might not have even taken half of it yet.
I nearly groan. How the hell am I supposed to fit all of that inside me?
“That’s okay, sweets.” He pulls me back up, the condom glistening with my arousal. “We’ll work you up to taking every inch.”
When nothing but his tip remains inside me, he thrusts.
Pleasure and a twinge of pain mix at the sudden stretch. I’ve never been this full, and after the intensity is completely muted by the overwhelming pleasure, I know I’ll need to do this every day for the rest of my life.
When he thrusts again, I see stars.
“Fuck!” I clutch at the seat behind him.
He tugs my hands down to rest on his shoulders. “No, baby. Dig your nails into me. I’m your anchor.”
Noah has no idea the damage my nails can inflict, even through his shirt, but I don’t bother objecting. I can’t. I can’t form words.
“Are you going to come for me again?” he teases, thumb landing on my swollen clit.
He gives me a break, letting me acclimate to the feeling of being filled by him, driving pleasure through that sensitive bundle of nerves to get my tight walls to relax.
“Right before you do.” I swallow, breathing ragged, but even with struggling lungs and weak limbs, I rock my hips.
His cocky grin falls away as he bites his lip. “Oh fuck. Keep doing that.”
As if I was going to stop. This feels way too fucking good to quit now.
Noah catches my nipple with his mouth while his thumb continues rubbing between my legs.
I’ve never disliked sex, but it’s also never lived up to all the hype from movies and TV and books.
Turns out, sex exceeds the hype when you’re with the right person.
Crazy that just a few months ago, he was the intruder asleep on my couch, and now . . . now, he’s . . .
“You’re fucking mine now, Summer.” He growls the words in my ear, holding me close while his touch continues to drive pleasure through every vein. “Every part of you. Mine.”
He brings my mouth to his and pinches my clit. That’s all it takes to push me over the edge.
I break our kiss and cry out in his ear, probably rattling his eardrum, but I can’t bring myself to care as the pleasure pulses through me.
He lets out a satisfied groan that I wish I could record and listen to on repeat. “That’s it, baby. You’re so gorgeous when you come.”
Noah bounces my limp, writhing body up and down until his movements turn staccato and he pins me to him, groaning as he bites down on my shoulder. Inside me, his cock pulses, and I’m losing my mind at the overwhelming pleasure.
At last, our labored breathing starts to slow, and we peel our sticky bodies apart.
His chest rises and falls quickly, head tipping back as he tries to catch his breath. “That was—”
“Incredible,” I finish for him.
He nods, unable to do much more. I love that I have this kind of effect on him. “Best sex of my life.”
“Give me five minutes,” I pant, “and you’ll be saying that again.”
Inside me, his cock jerks. He likes that idea.
When he finally picks his head up, his hand travels up to my shoulder, my neck, my cheek. Quietly, he asks, “How often are you dealing with men like that?”
“What?”
“That guy in the restaurant.”
Oh. Michael. I completely forgot about the incident in the restaurant that led to impromptu sex in and on Noah’s car.
“Almost never.” Though it’s true, I can’t help but think that almost never is still too often.
My answer does nothing to quell Noah’s unease. He tightens his hold on me, his arm tugging me closer so we’re flush chest-to-chest again. “You can quit this job, Summer. Live with me. I can take care of you, and you can focus on your art.”
In my daydreams, I sometimes imagine falling for a wealthy man who would offer to let me stay home and draw, create, lose myself in my art. Who would want nothing more than to see me happy and pursuing my passion.
A silly fantasy. And Noah is offering that to me now.
Even though we’ve known each other for just a few months, he’s completely genuine. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I never dared allow myself to hope for, and it makes a sob catch in my chest.
I force a laugh so I don’t start crying. A post-coital mood killer. “That’s a very generous offer for a fake girlfriend.”
“You know nothing about this is fake.” He cradles my face, his palm warm, comforting, steady.
Maybe our relationship started off as fake, but he’s right. Whatever is between us now is so much more than that.
“While I appreciate the offer, I can’t accept it.” When Noah starts to object again, I add, “I do plan to quit. But when I can support myself from my art.”
Right now, we’re both shaken from what happened in the restaurant with Michael.
But this job has otherwise been safe, and it’s paid my bills.
As much as I care about Noah, we haven’t known each other for that long.
We haven’t even defined the new, confusing reality of our relationship.
I can’t expect him to be in this for the long haul already, and if this relationship has any chance at being something real, we can’t add the pressure of living together this early.
I don’t want to rely on him financially either.
If this doesn’t work out, I could end up in a worse position than I am now.
Noah’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight me on this. Instead, he grabs my hand. “I need you to be safe, Summer. More than anything else.”
“I know,” I murmur. I get it, I really do. I want the same for him.
“How do we make sure you never see that asshole again?”
“Easy.” I pull up the Plus One app, find Michael’s profile, and hit Block.