Chapter Twelve
Juliet
Noah is already home when I get there.
Dinner is quiet, easy, familiar.
I tell him all about Tammy’s meltdown, the dog tags, the way she completely unraveled.
I leave out the part about touching myself in Orion’s bed.
Because I don’t hurt my men with things that serve no purpose.
They’ll both know when I sleep with Orion.
But I won’t rub it in their faces.
Because I love them.
Because men have fragile egos.
And I take care of what’s mine.
Noah twirls his fork against his plate, thoughtful. “So tomorrow,” he says, “What are you gonna do? Just walk up and say hi?”
I reach out, smoothing my fingers along his jaw. “He’s a protector,” I murmur. “I’ll speak to that side of him.”
Noah exhales, but his shoulders relax under my touch.
I change the subject. “Tell me about your day. Did you finish the song you were working on?”
Noah’s whole face lights up, and God, I love that.
He’s such a beautiful singer, such an incredible songwriter. A poet at heart.
And it’s all for me.
“I should be ready to play it for you this weekend,” he says.
For me.
Because every song he writes is for me.
I squeeze his hand. Ground him. “He’s not going to change this,” I say, my voice sure, steady.
Noah’s fingers twitch in mine.
“You’re good with this, right?” I press, tilting my head. “Because you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
Noah looks at me, his gaze soft, unwavering. “I know,” he says.
He says he knows.
That he trusts me.
That Orion won’t change anything between us.
And maybe that should be enough.
But I need to feel it.
Need to hear it in his breath, his moans, the way he shakes when he’s inside me.
I shift closer, my fingers still curled around his hand, my thumb stroking slow, teasing circles over his palm.
He notices.
His breath catches, just for a second, before he swallows it down.
I watch him. Feel his pulse in his wrist.
His jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t pull away.
Because he doesn’t want to pull away.
“You’re tense,” I murmur. I lift his hand to my lips, press a soft, lingering kiss to his knuckles, then lower my voice, sultry and sure. “Let me help you relax.”
Noah’s eyes darken.
That’s all it takes.
That’s all it ever takes.
We don’t even make it to the bedroom before my pants are off.
By the time I’m pushing him onto the couch, he’s already half-hard, his body thrumming with anticipation.
I straddle him, rolling my hips just enough to tease, feeling the shape of him press against me through his jeans.
His hands go to my waist, not pulling, not taking, just holding.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
He’s so fucking sweet.
I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him into a deep, filthy kiss.
His groan vibrates against my lips, and I feel it in my clit.
I move against him again, slow and deliberate, letting him feel how warm I am, how ready I am.
He shudders, his fingers flexing against my hips.
I press my lips to his ear, whispering, “You don’t have to be so careful with me, baby.”
I roll my hips again, harder this time, enough to drag a delicious, wrecked sound from his throat.
“Oh, fuck,” he rasps.
There it is.
I kiss his neck, biting lightly, then suck just hard enough to leave a mark.
Mine.
Noah is mine.
He grips my thighs, breathing heavy, his body fighting itself.
He wants to be good.
To be gentle.
But I want him ruined.
I slide my hands under his sweater, dragging my nails up his stomach, feeling the hard muscle, the way it tightens under my touch.
He’s so warm. So fucking solid.
I lift his shirt off him, then run my tongue down his chest, his abs, teasing the deep V leading into his jeans.
He sucks in a breath, his cock twitching against his zipper.
I pop the button open, drag the denim down just enough to free him.
God.
I wrap my fingers around him, feeling the heat, the thickness, the way he twitches at my touch.
He’s so hard already.
For me.
Just for me.
I stroke him slowly, deliberately, letting my thumb tease the tip, spreading the precum that’s already leaking out.
He groans, his head tipping back, fingers digging into my thighs.
I love it. I love watching him fall apart. Love knowing that I do this to him.
That no one else ever will.
I sink down, take him in my mouth.
He jerks beneath me, a strangled sound leaving his throat. “Oh, Juliet.”
I moan around him, letting the vibrations ripple through his cock, and he fucking loses it.
His hand flies to my hair, gripping tight, but he doesn’t push.
Because Noah is too good.
Too sweet.
Even when he’s falling apart, even when he’s this close to losing control, he still wants to be good for me.
I hollow my cheeks, taking him deeper, swallowing around him.
His hips buck, and finally, finally, he snaps. He grips my hair, pulling my mouth off him, eyes wide with need.
“Jesus, Juliet,” he pants, dragging me up, flipping me onto my back.
His body pins me to the couch, his weight pressing me down, his cock hard against my stomach.
“Fuck,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “You’re gonna kill me.”
I smile. Tease my fingers over his abs.
“I want you to lose control,” I whisper.
He exhales sharply, like he’s trying so hard to stay steady.
And I love it. I love being the thing that shakes him.
I reach between us, wrap my hand around him again, tease him right against my entrance.
His whole body shudders.
He drags his fingers between my legs, his jaw clenching when he feels how wet I am.
“You’re so…” He chokes on a breath. “Fuck, Juliet.”
I hook my legs around him, pull him closer, and whisper against his lips, “I’m ready. Take me.”
He slides inside me, slow and deep, stretching me, filling me.
We both gasp.
He pauses, trembling, his forehead pressed against mine.
Like he needs a second.
Like he needs to breathe.
Because I feel so good around him.
I tilt my hips, take him deeper, and he groans.
“Jesus Christ.” He starts to move.
Slow. Deep. Perfect.
I dig my nails into his back, pulling him closer, needing more.
And he gives it to me.
His thrusts turn harder, sharper, more desperate.
He grabs my wrists, pins them above my head, his weight sinking into me, his cock hitting deep.
I moan, arching, writhing beneath him, and he fucking loves it.
He buries his face in my neck, panting, whispering my name like a prayer.
Like I’m something holy.
I tilt my head, kiss his jaw, his ear, bite his neck.
“Come, Noah,” I murmur.
Noah groans, hips snapping hard, his entire body going tense. His breath shudders, his grip on my wrists tightens, and he comes so deep inside me I feel it everywhere.
I fall with him.
Wrecked. Ruined. Perfect.
After, he collapses against me, warm and heavy, his arms wrapping around my waist.
He doesn’t let go.
Just breathes with me.
I run my fingers through his hair, smiling to myself.
Because I know he’ll sleep well tonight.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow, Orion will finally see me.