Chapter 21 #2
My retort is stolen when his hand slides up my thigh and traces the edge of my hip hugging lace briefs, his fingers feathery against the thin barrier.
“Fuck,” he moans, his hand slipping back out to unfasten my skirt.
In the next moment, he’s up on his knees, tugging it down my legs and tossing it aside, his face drenched in want.
It’s been a while since I’ve been this naked before a partner and while I’m not ashamed of my curves, or the soft slope of my belly, it is vulnerable to be this bare.
Old insecurities threaten, but Noah erases all sense of shame.
Even in the low light his lust is evident, the way he runs his eyes over all of me, as if I’m a feast and he can’t get his fill.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Lottie. How tempted I’ve been every goddamn day of knowing you.”
The breath of his words pull goosebumps as he leans down to kiss my neck and I curl my fingers into his hair, while his hands work in expert rounds, kneading and teasing every possible inch of skin.
He works his kissing down my body, worshiping me with his tongue and his fingertips and I run my hands up and down his arms and across his back as he continues his barrage.
Time stalls as he settles himself between my legs, the black lace the only thing left between us.
I prop myself up on my elbows and he meets my gaze, that constant hunger still smoldering.
“You don’t have to,” I say, desperate for him to know I’d be happy with an old fashioned fucking. I can’t remember the last man to go down on me, and my nerves begin to crest, my mind convincing me he’s doing it as a courtesy.
“You are not depriving me of this.”
The sentence stuns, and in another breath, Noah pulls the black lace down to my knees and then rolls up to slide them off completely, his hand cradling my colorful calf.
When he lowers himself back down, I am incoherent thought; nothing matters but the pleasure he is releasing between my legs.
His tongue works slow circles as though he’s savoring, memorizing the taste and feel as he works.
He groans, and the vibration of it echoes through me.
My body melts into the mattress, my back arching as he finds and flicks the bundle of nerves he’s been toying with.
The soft exploration turns into a harder tease, warmth blossoming against his face in a surge of arousal.
My god, he’s good.
Noah’s desperation to taste me and the way he’s proving how much he enjoys it will ruin me, I’m sure of it.
I grip the comforter, my entire body writhing in response.
He runs his hands up my legs and grips my hips, pressing himself impossibly deeper.
His tongue is an expert, swirling and tracing all the right places and when he adds a finger and then another, sliding them in under his chin, I see stars.
“Oh god, Noah.”
He pulls my climax from me, coaxing it with an expertly timed suck and those damn fingers, refusing to let up, even when my thighs clench the sides of his face. I ride the wave, my muscles knotting and melting in an instant as I come undone.
Noah props up on his elbows and grins before he slides his face up my thigh, nipping softly and pulling ripples of pleasure as air hits the wet trail he’s leaving.
I shiver and tug him up for another kiss, ready to return the favor.
Our embrace continues to warm and tease my still tingling nerves and soon I am sitting up, running my fingers along his pants.
He is on his knees before me and I palm his erection through his jeans causing him to moan again.
“Let me grab a condom,” he breathes into my hair, his hand still cupping the underside of my breast.
I straighten and flash a playful grin. “I figured I would return the favor, no condom needed.”
His eyes dance with my proposal, and he runs his thumb along my bottom lip as if he’s considering what it would look like wrapped around him. “You asked me to fuck you, Lottie, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
Once again, in the wake of his directness, words fail me and I’m left speechless as he rolls up and off the bed.
As he steps to where he’s kept his suitcase, I’m struck by every moment he whispered about raising my standards.
His coming with condoms brings the giddy realization my justifying them away was wrong.
This is exactly the kind of standard raising he meant, and he’s been hoping for this for at least as long as I have.
He kicks his pants off and rolls on a condom before returning to the mattress.
I want to tease him for coming so prepared, but when he leans down to kiss me gently, his hand cradles my jaw with a tenderness that pulls at something deep in my chest. My first thought is, it’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed like this, but as I let his tongue deeper into my mouth and press myself against him, I’m struck with the realization I’m not sure I’ve ever been kissed like this.
The way he traces delicate lines on my skin, and then grabs hold in just the right spot mirrors the way he’s treated me with gentle affection and teased a firm hand since our very first meeting.
This version of Noah threatens to break my heart, and I pinch my eyes closed to savor the softness of him.
Holding this moment instead of letting it break into insecurities, I run my hands down along his chest, his skin smooth and warm.
God, he’s good. He loops an arm around my bare torso and leans us back onto the bed and in the next breath, my legs are wrapped around his waist and he is pressing into me.
“Oh,” I gasp, delighted by the fullness.
“Are you okay?”
“Better than okay.” Grabbing a fistful of hair, I pull him closer. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
Capturing my mouth with his, we disappear into a fit of moans and thrusts, my eyes only half open.
Our bodies are one, pressed together in every possible way and it is good.
I lift my pelvis to let him go deeper and he surprises me again, by pulling out and flipping us over so I’m straddling his hips.
Recognizing this is my chance to tease and play, I use every ounce of restraint and take things slow.
With my hands on his chest, I lower myself down, savoring the careful descent and the way he fills the space between my legs.
Noah bites his lip and grabs the soft rolls at my waist. I lift up again, and lower, slower than before, enjoying the agony meeting pleasure on his face.
He slides his hands up and down my thighs before settling a thumb between my legs, circling my clit as I ride him.
This man knows pleasure, and he is not about to let me torment him any longer.
My speed increases as his thumb works meticulous rounds and soon I’m cresting that all consuming hill again.
As the thrill of an orgasm echoes through me, Noah loses himself and, for a few brief moments, we are bound to the feeling, our bodies reacting to the waves of gratification.
He pulses inside of me and groans, the sound of it echoing in all my hollow places.
I fall onto his chest in a limp puddle, our breath ragged and uneven while his heart thumps wildly against my ear. The erratic rhythm pulls a smile. I just fucked Noah Graves.
But even as I think them, the words fall short of what it was and questions bloom against the glow of our undoing.
Anxious, and hoping to avoid the softness of after sex intimacy, I reach for anything to break the moment. Anything to pull us back into the realm of casual banter.
“All those runs do you good, Graves.”
A deep chuckle answers my tease, and I’m okay until his hand glides up to tickle my back.
It’s intimate, a slow idle trace up my spine and then down again.
I pinch my eyes closed against the impending well of questions regarding what comes next, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from spilling them.
There is no what’s next. Hasn’t been since Axel.
What happened with Noah is simple. We had a few beers, admitted our mutual attraction, and let it culminate in a fit of sex. There was no admission of anything more, and spiraling about that now is pointless.
Uncomfortable with the way Noah’s body feels below mine, I slip away from his hands and do my best to avoid looking at him.
He rolls over, flicks the light on and disappears towards the bathroom.
In his absence I pull the comforter up to my chin and work through how I’m going to politely evade any kind of pillow talk.
Before I can settle into pretending I’m asleep, Noah is back and clears his throat.
I prop myself up on my elbow to face him and his sheepish grin.
“I don’t want to presume . . .” His pause opens the pit at the base of my stomach and I wait. “But the couch isn’t very comfortable.”
I fight a cringe, but the look on his face stops me from coming up with some kind of excuse.
It’s the same face he wore when he insisted we didn’t have to play pretend for the Barkers.
The same face that told me he wouldn’t press for more or force me into anything I didn’t want.
In an effort to seem casual, I reach for the lamp and hope he doesn’t see the way my hand is trembling.
“Get in here. But if you steal the blankets, I’ll kick your ass back to the couch faster than you can say Dominos.”
Grinning, he slips into the bed, which suddenly feels far too small. Thankfully, he doesn’t curl up against me, or make any effort to touch, and I cling to that shred of separation with everything I have.
It was just sex and this is just sleeping.
Yet, as Noah drifts off, his breath coming in deep inhales and quiet exhales, a single thread of bitter truth curls among the snake pit of questions.
Whatever this was, is more than just sex.