Chapter 40 Damien #3
I cup his face, fingers trembling. “Then don’t. Hold on just a little longer. Ruin me first.”
Noah groans like it physically hurts to hold back. He buries his face in my neck, panting against my skin, thrusting harder, deeper, each stroke more frantic, more erratic. I hear the wet slap of our bodies, feel the way I tighten around him with every push, and I know I’m not going to last either.
“I’m gonna—I can’t—” he gasps.
“Do it,” I hiss, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Come inside me. Fill me up, Babygirl. Fuck me full and make it yours.”
Noah cries out, choking on his breath as he slams forward again. His fingers dig into my skin. He’s got that look on his face now—the one that’s all panic and pleasure, the one that says it’s about to hit him hard and fast.
He lets out a noise I’ll never forget, half-moan, half-sob, as he comes deep inside me. His body seizes against mine, every muscle trembling with it, and the heat of him spilling into me is enough to drag me to the edge too.
“Noah—fuck, fuck, yes—!” I feel it rush over me, and then I’m gone, clenching around him, jerking up into his body as I come untouched with a cry I couldn’t stop if I tried.
We collapse together, breathless and shaking, tangled in heat and sweat. His weight settles on me, and I wrap my arms around his back, holding him close. He doesn’t move, his chest rising and falling against mine, his mouth brushing my jaw every time he exhales.
Eventually, he whispers, “I didn’t mean to say that—that thing I called you.”
I smile, running my fingers through the curls at the back of his neck. “No, baby. You did. You don’t have to be sorry for calling me your cockslut.”
He groans into my chest, clearly mortified. “I just— It came out. I don’t even know where I heard it.” He lifts his head, and when I look into his eyes, they’re still wide, still uncertain, but soft. “You didn’t hate it?”
I shake my head, pulling him down into another kiss. “I loved it.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Noah.” I kiss him again, firmer this time. “You could call me your cockslut every time, and I’d still get hard.”
He flushes. “Oh.”
I laugh, and so does he. It’s the first real laugh either of us has had since this started, and it eases something between us, just a little. “You surprised the hell out of me.”
“I surprised myself,” he says, then, he adds, “Did I—was that okay? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head, pulling him back down. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”
He huffs a laugh, eyes glassy with disbelief. “I don’t think perfect involves coming in under five minutes.”
I grin, dragging my knuckles over his jaw. “I don’t give a fuck about how quick it was. That was your first time, Noah. It was supposed to be fast. And you still made me come so hard I forgot how to breathe.”
He blushes, but it’s different now—less self-conscious, more pleased. His fingers ghost down my side, tracing sweat and skin. “I didn’t think I could do that. I didn’t think I’d ever be the kind of person who could… say those things… But I think I liked it.”
“I know you did,” I murmur. “And you sounded so fucking good doing it. Don’t stop calling me filthy names, Babygirl. Not if it makes you feel that way.”
He smiles, blushing all over again. “Okay. But only in bed.”
“For now,” I tease, and pull him tighter. “Just wait, you’ll be growling them at me in the kitchen next.”
He groans and hides his face in my chest. “Please shut up,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh while he sucks in a breath, his cock still hard as fuck inside me. “Can I stay like this a little longer?”
“Inside me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he says, lightly rocking his hips, and I gasp.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him closer. “Stay as long as you want.”
He rocks his hips again, and I groan this time, my fingers tightening around his waist as I bury my face in the crook of his neck. “Noah…” I warn, breath catching.
“What?” he whispers, voice soft but edged with mischief.
He thrusts again, and my back arches, body clenching around him involuntarily. He knows what he’s doing, even if he pretends he’s still shy. My mouth falls open as every sensitive nerve inside me sparks all over again. “Blue—fuck—”
“You said I could stay,” he whispers innocently, but the glint in his eye isn’t innocent. “You didn’t say I had to behave.”
I let out a strangled sound, and he smiles against my skin. That smile. That fucking smile. It used to be shy, sweet, soft eyes, and innocent questions.
Not now.
Now, it’s cocky and wicked. And his eyes—fuck. All blown-pupil chaos and quiet mischief, like he doesn’t know whether to be shy or smug about how good he’s being.
“Oh my god,” I groan, dropping my head back against the mattress when he pulls out all the way. The stretch and drag of it make me clench around nothing, and my whole body shudders.
I reach for him, but he doesn’t let me touch him.
Noah kneels between my legs, his hands press against my thighs, spreading them wider, holding me open, and he watches—fucking watches—as everything he just gave me starts leaking out of me onto the sheets.
“Jesus fuck—” My voice breaks.
He stares at the mess and actually looks proud of it, catching a drop with his thumb before dragging it slowly back up over my hole.
I jolt.
“Your hole is so open and pulsing, Mien,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over where I’m leaking. I make a desperate noise, and he finally meets my eyes again. “I did that.”
I groan, dragging an arm over my eyes, humiliated by how badly I’m still throbbing, how much I want to be filled again. “Stop.”
“Why?” he asks, teasing. “You said I was perfect. You said I could do whatever I wanted.”
“That was before you decided to be evil.”
He hums and brushes another trail of cum back over my hole, sinking two fingers inside and feeling the way I clench and my hips rock up without me meaning to.
I reach up and pull him down, crashing our mouths together in a rough kiss. He moans into it, hips jerking forward while that thick cock chubs up again.
But then he stops and pulls back. “We should go clean up.”
My mouth falls open. “You little shit—”
He laughs—genuine, flushed, and still too fucking close to perfect—then he leans forward to kiss my temple and gets off the bed.
I drop my head back against the mattress and groan, reaching for him. “Get back here.”
But Noah’s already walking toward the en suite with that wicked smirk on his face. “Let’s go clean up, Mien. You have to be up early tomorrow.”
I want to hate it, but I don’t. Because Noah Adams just took his first step into power, and he took it inside me.