34. Queenie
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
QUEENIE
RECOMMENDED LISTENING ‘CHERRY’ BY LANA DEL RAY
When I open my eyes, he is just staring at me. His devil black eyes are starless, the pupils blown.
The rain’s slowed down a bit. It’s a gentle drizzle now.
“Ten times,” he murmurs. Rubbing a thumb over my kiss-swollen lips again. “I want to see that ten times tonight.”
I laugh weakly and flop a hand weakly at his chest. “Shut up. Don’t make me hit you.”
He kisses me and helps me down the bike. I hop down like a hobbit, even with heels on. And my thighs only shake a little.
Then he bends down and sweeps my waist closer. And kisses me again. “We’re doing that about a hundred times tonight,” he murmurs.
“You’re into stats now.”
“I’m a cricket player. Stats are in my DNA.”
I shake my head. And then lose it because he turns around and holds my hand, walking backward to the house. As if he can’t bear to not look at me. “You’re going to fall,” I warn him.
“Then I’ll fall,” he says simply.
We manage to cross the stairs and reach the door without bodily injury.
Noah opens the door, still looking at me. Like he can’t help myself. Like he doesn’t know why.
So, I kick the door shut when we go inside and jerk him closer for a French kiss. He makes a muffled sound but then participates enthusiastically. Kicking off his shoes and toeing off his socks, so they dangle off. I toe off my heels too, so I’m four inches shorter than him.
I drag him in half over me and he comes willingly.
“We should dry off,” Noah gasps out. Now the voice of reason. “You could catch cold.”
“Sex is a vigorous, sweat-inducing activity. Orgasm chases colds away.”
I swipe at his wet jacket. I kiss his wet chest, when he finally shucks off the jacket and it gets tangled on his elbows. Before it lands with a wet plop on the foyer.
I push my messy hair behind my ear and wink cheekily at him. “Trust me, I’m going to be a doctor one day.”
Noah grins. A full-blown delight of a grin. And it shines in his eyes, turning them into pricks of light.
I begin to fall. With no hope of being caught.
He helps me with his shirt, and it’s soon untucked out of the waistband of his dress pants. His tie comes down with it.
“Lavender hearts.” I snap at his tie between my hands. “My downfall.”
“Come here.” He brings me closer, hikes me to my toes and kisses me. Spearing one hand through my hair. Cupping my skull, leaving marks there.
I match him beat for beat. I discard my belt. And it slithers down my waist with a hiss.
Noah runs a carefully rough hand up and down my back, my legs, my waist, my hips, squeezing my butt. Taking handfuls of the fabric as he does so.
I let him do what he wants. Because I want it too.
“How does this come off?” He grasps one dripping sleeve and squeezes water out of it.
“It sort of slithers off, since it was cinched at my waist with the belt.” I push one sleeve under my shoulder. It dips to show the curve of my bra over my breast.
His jaw drops.
I never knew it could be gratifying to leave someone speechless, but watching Noah’s jaw drop is the most satisfying thing ever.
“Wait,” he breathes.
Then he takes my hand and practically runs me to the couch where his sleep things are piled neatly on one side.
Our feet make squelching noises on the marble. I giggle at our theatrics.
Then he drops on the couch and spreads his legs. And grabs my waist.
“If this is a show, then I need a proper seat to enjoy it.” He kisses my tummy. The curve of it. Loving it.
“I was thinking you could turn around and we’d hop into bed together. Under the sheets.” I play lazily with his wet hair. And he shudders at my touch. “I’m shy, you see.”
“If that’s what you want.” Noah immediately goes to stand up.
“But…” I push his shoulder back. Actually, I just press lightly. He sits willingly. “A show is better. More control for me.” I drop one shoulder and the satin slides down.
Noah’s mouth parts, his eyes darken to obsidian. He goes to touch me.
I slither around him and bite his ear. “No touching, sir.”
He clenches his fists and puts them on his iron hard thighs. His cock swells against his pants. I lick my lips at it.
“The show, Hellcat,” he rasps out.
I drop my other shoulder and the dress sort of hinges on the rounded swells of my tits. I reach behind me and unhook the bra, so it slides down first. Leaving me in wet satin, panties and the garter.
I strike a long leg pose.
“You like?”
“I love. Take it all off,” he grits out.
I hold my bra in one delicate hand, then throw it at his face.
He catches it in mid-air, like the fielder he is. Then he tucks it in his pants pocket. “Mine.”
I laugh and shake my head. I lift the sopping wet hem of the dress and lift it up. This feels decadent. Wicked. Sinful. I angle my thigh outward, so the dress reveals more and more of it as I lift the dress up. I stop right before my inner thighs and drop it down.
All while maintaining intense eye contact with him.
He thunks his head back. Twice. “ Hurry !” Noah begs.
“Say, please.”
“Please,” he says immediately. “Please, now. Please.”
I grab the edge of the dress and lift it up in one smooth motion. Then I throw it behind me. Leaving me in nothing but a thong.
And now I can’t look at him. My cheeks are burning. Hot.
“Fuck, Queenie.” He touches my stomach first. Splaying large fingers to span it. My stomach trembles, from the touch and reaction. “Fuck.” He brings me forward and kisses my stomach. “ Fuck ,” he says again.
My lips quiver as nerves set in.
But then he does the sweetest thing ever.
He draws me down beside him and covers me with the blanket.
“You want to stop?” Noah asks quietly.
Tears fill my eyes at how attuned he is to me. How fully he knows me despite not knowing much about me at all.
“No. But…maybe, you could…” I wave at his shirt and pants.
“Five seconds.” He throws off his shirt and shucks off his pants and belt all in the same motion. His silk boxers cling to his thighs, riding up and up.
He is all lean muscle and sinew and long bones. Altogether too pretty.
“I want you on this couch.” Then he lays me down and cups my cheek again. “Comfortable?”
I nod. And I drift a gentle finger over the daisy tattoo above his left pec. “What’s this for?”
“Mum loved daisies,” he answers softly. “I wanted to have something to remember her by.”
It feels natural to reach up and kiss it. This gentle, sweet, utterly unhinged man with secrets. When I stop kissing it, he looks at me again, with those eyes. They see everything and judge nothing.
“You’re not going to let me go down on you yet, right?”
I shake my head, even though my belly trembles at his filthy words. “I…”
“It’s okay. We’ll work up to it.” He kisses my shoulder.
Noah drops his weight on me. “Is this okay?” He cradles me in his arms.
“More than okay.”
“Tell me how you want it, okay? Slow or fast?—”
“Medium pace?” I chuckle out.
He kisses my nose. “Medium it is.”
Noah kisses me like it’s the first time. And my knees go weak, like it’s the first time. I reach around the blanket covering me and hold him. His back, his neck, his shoulder blades. Any part I can reach.
My thighs fall open, so he settles in the notch between my legs. His thighs are hard and powerful, an athlete’s physique.
He’s hot and hard and jutting, an alien presence over me and around me. I’m turned on and a little apprehensive too.
He brushes my hair behind my ear and kisses me again. Soft and sweet and gentle. Over and over.
I’m the one who urges him to go faster, licking and nipping at his lips. Fastening my tongue to his.
“We need protection,” Noah whispers against my lips. “Give me a minute.” He digs around the pillows and pulls out a strip of extra-large pleasurables.
I shake my head. “You’re too much.”
He thrusts into me over the blanket, and I gasp. Then he bites the side of my neck. “I really am.”
I stop teasing him.
He rolls down my panties, careful to keep the garter on. And I touch his boxers. The waistband. Then I slide my hand inside and cup his ass. It’s firm. Tactile. He flexes into my touch.
I gush between my legs.
“Inside the blanket?” He asks.
I want to shake my head. But I nod. I need to be honest with him.
So, we keep the blanket over us. And Noah’s touching me. All over. Everywhere. He brushes the back of one palm over my nipple. And I arch into his touch. He does it again and I moan. He kisses the sound into his mouth.
Then, he goes down and kisses my nipple. Sucks it strongly into his mouth. I thrash and writhe against him. Feeling too much and too little at the same time. He cups the fleshy part in one hand and pulls me up to his mouth by the other. Then he sucks again, eating at me.
I look at his wet head on my brown skin, his pink mouth consuming me, devouring my brown nipple. And another orgasm builds in me.
I take his hand and push it in my wet, aching, trembling core. Noah pushes two fingers in. It’s a tight fit. I drop one leg on the floor, and he gets better access. He drives in and out of me, slowly and inexorably while he feasts on my tits.
His pulls are long and unending. Enervating. Devastating. He pulls sensations from my navel to my toes and all the way to my skull. I’m made of feeling as he fucks me with his fingers.
Then, he brushes a strong thumb on my clit. Unerringly finding it again. And I shudder. He does it again, faster and faster. I climb to the peak. The dual force of his fingers inside me and the suction of his hot lips on my tits, making me come. My pussy clenches around his hand, my channel squeezing his fingers.
My toes stretch out into infinity, rasping against his hair-roughened legs, under the blanket.
Noah stops before I can chase oblivion. The bastard stops.