Chapter 9 Norah #2
He groans at my begging, and he rewards me by sliding his hand lower, cupping me over the soaked fabric. I gasp, my back arching as his fingers press against my clit through the thin barrier. The pressure is almost enough, but not quite.
“Look at you,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. “Soaking through your panties like a good girl.” His fingers rub slow, torturous circles, and I moan, my hips jerking against his hand. “You’re desperate for me, aren’t you, darling?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my voice breaking. “Please Rowan, I need—”
His mouth crashes back onto mine, swallowing my plea, and his fingers finally slip beneath the waistband of my panties.
The first touch of his fingers against my aching, swollen pussy makes me cry out, my body shuddering.
He groans into my mouth, his fingers sliding through my wetness, gathering it before pressing against my clit.
I buck against his hand, my hips rolling in needy little circles. The bond flares between us, and I can feel his desire—how badly he wants to claim me. His fingers circle me slowly, deliberately, working me into a panting, writhing mess.
“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough. “So fucking perfect.” Two fingers press inside me just a little, just enough to make me gasp, and then he pulls back, teasing.
He returns to my clit, stroking and circling, and I whimper, my hips jerking against his hand. The bond pulses between us, amplifying every sensation until I’m trembling, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“You’re so hot, Norah,” he murmurs, and I can hear the need in his voice. “So wet for me. I’ve dreamed of touching you just like this.” His fingers swirl over my clit in tight, teasing circles, and I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”
I nod frantically, my voice breaking. “Yes, yes, I am. Please, Rowan—”
He holds my gaze, his eyes burning into mine, and then his fingers slide lower, slipping against my entrance.
I gasp as he slowly pushes two fingers inside me, stretching me, filling me.
The sensation is overwhelming. His fingers are long and thick, and the bond flares between us as he sinks them deep inside my clenching pussy.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, his voice rough. “You feel like you were made just for me.”
I moan, my hips rocking against his hand, my body aching for more. “Because I was,” I pant, breathless. “I don’t think any of this was an accident, Rowan.”
He claims my mouth with a hungry kiss, swallowing my words, and he starts to fuck me with his fingers, slow and deep. His thumb circles my clit, and I whimper into his mouth, my body trembling.
I’m burning. Floating. Hyperaware of not just my need, but his.
I slip my hand down between us and stroke him through the fabric of his boxer briefs. I trace the outline of him, and he groans into my mouth, his hips bucking into my touch. The sound he makes is desperate, needy, and it sends a thrill coursing through me.
“Fuck, Norah,” he growls. “You’re going to kill me.”
I whimper, my fingers tightening around him. “I need to feel you,” I pant.
He groans again, his fingers still working inside me, stretching me, filling me. The bond glows and shimmers between us, and I can feel how close he is to losing control. His thumb circles my clit faster, and I gasp, my hips rocking.
I slip my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, my fingers wrapping around his bare cock.
He’s so big, so thick, and I moan at the feel of him.
His skin is hot, velvety smooth, and he throbs in my grip.
His hips jerk up, his cock sliding through my fist, and he groans, his head falling back against the pillow.
“Christ, sweetheart,” he grits out. “That feels so fucking good.”
I stroke him, my thumb swirling over the tip, gathering the bead of moisture there. He’s leaking for me, his cock impossibly hard. He fucks me harder, faster with his fingers, the wet sound of it filling the room. It’s so, so good, but it’s not enough.
“Please,” I beg, my voice breathless. “I need you inside me. Please, Rowan. Please.”
“Norah,” he groans, his voice strained. “We shouldn’t—”
“I don’t care,” I pant, stroking him faster. “I need you. Please, Rowan. I need you so fucking bad.”
He makes an anguished sound, his hips thrusting into my touch. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”
“Please, Rowan,” I beg, my voice shaking. “Please, I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “I can’t stop. God help me, I can’t stop.” He pulls his fingers free of me and tugs my panties down. I let out a victorious little moan and clumsily pull his underwear down over his hips. We shimmy and fumble, and then our underwear hits the floor.
He moves over top of me, his weight pressing me down into the mattress, making me feel tiny.
He’s so warm, so solid, and I whimper as his cock presses against my thigh, so hot and hard.
His mouth finds mine again, and we kiss like we’re drowning, like we’ve been starving for this.
His tongue slides against mine, slow and deep, and I arch up into him, my nails scoring down his back. My arm throbs dully, but I don’t care.
His cock nudges against my entrance, and I shudder, my body clenching around nothing. The bond flares, golden and bright, and my wrist burns.
Our eyes lock.
And then he pushes inside in one slow, endless stroke.
I gasp as he fills me, stretches me, the sensation overwhelming.
He’s so big, so thick, and I feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper, deeper, until he’s buried inside me, his balls snug against my ass.
My body clenches around him, and it’s overwhelmingly perfect.
I whimper and cling to him, pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt rushing over me.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Norah—you feel—Oh god, it’s so fucking good.”
The bond erupts, and golden light flares around us, pulsing in time with our hearts, our wrists burning in unison.
It’s like the world narrows down to this—just the two of us, and the way he fills me so completely.
I can feel him inside me, not just physically, but everywhere, like he’s woven into my bones, my blood, my soul.
He holds completely still, his forehead pressed to mine. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I say, nodding, hands roving over his back. “Yes, please don’t stop.”
He lets out a pained sound. “I don’t think I could for anything.”
He starts to move, pulling almost all the way out, and then sliding back in, slow, so slow, like he’s savoring every second of this. His hips roll against mine, every stroke slow and deep. Like he’s making a promise with every inch.
“You’re mine, Norah.” His voice is gritty with emotion. “Not letting you go. You’re mine.”
The words hit me somewhere deep, somewhere raw, and I can’t breathe for the way they settle inside me.
He kisses me, hot and deep, his tongue sliding against mine like he’s tasting the truth of what we are to each other.
Like he’s sealing it between us. I clutch at him, my thighs trembling around his hips.
The bond wraps around us, settles over us like a golden blanket, glowing brighter with every thrust. It’s not just lust between us. It’s love. It doesn’t matter that it’s unspoken. I can feel it, shimmering through the bond.
Rowan loves me. And I love him.
His cock fills me so perfectly, stretching me, claiming me, and I whimper into his mouth as he kisses me and kisses me, as though we need to be as joined as possible.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Relief. Joy. Belonging. It’s intense and overwhelming.
Rowan pulls back just enough to see my face, his thumb brushing away the first tear that spills over. His expression softens, his gaze holding mine. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice ragged. “And I’m never letting you go. Never. Never.”
His hand slips between us and his fingers find my clit.
The first touch sends a jolt of pleasure through me, making my back arch off the bed.
He circles it with slow, perfect strokes, matching the rhythm of his hips.
Every stroke inside me, every swirl of his fingers, builds the hot pressure coiling low in my belly higher, tighter.
“You feel that?” he growls, his warm breath feathering over my skin. “That’s us, sweetheart. That’s you and me.”
I nod, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The bond sparkles like tiny galaxies around us, and I can feel him—his need, his devotion, his fierce, unshakable claim on me, and mine on him.
His fingers work me faster, his cock driving deeper, and I’m so close, so fucking close. The tears keep coming, but they’re not sad. I’m crying because I feel like I’ve found my home.
The pressure inside me snaps.
I come with a broken cry, my body clenching around him so tightly it almost hurts. My body goes taut as pleasure crashes over me in consuming waves. Rowan groans, his hips stuttering against mine, and then he’s thrusting deeper, harder, his cock swelling inside me as he buries himself to the hilt.
His teeth graze my skin as he lets out a low, guttural sound. I feel him pulse inside me, filling me as he empties himself with a shuddering groan. Golden light explodes in a brief, blinding flash before softening into something warm and steady, like embers settling after a fire.
The skin on my wrist prickles hotly, and I lift it, watching as the glowing fades, but the ink doesn’t. It darkens, sinking deeper into my skin. The lines twist and settle, sharper now, permanent. The mark on Rowan’s wrist does the same, darkening and settling.
Rowan presses his forehead to mine, his breath ragged, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release. I can feel him inside me, still half-hard, cum starting to leak out, but I know he’s not ready to let go yet. Neither am I.
My fingers trace the new, darker mark on his wrist, and he shudders, letting out a quiet groan. His thumb brushes over mine, and the touch sends a spark through me. The bond is still there, but different. It’s both lighter and deeper, somehow. Less insistent, but no less consuming.
He kisses me, soft and slow, his cock twitching inside me.
His lips brush my cheeks, my forehead, my lips with tender, lingering kisses that make my skin tingle.
I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, and I’m warm and sated beneath him, our bodies still connected.
But beneath the warmth, a sliver of doubt slithers in.
What if he looks at me now and realizes he doesn’t want this after all?
I try to push the thought away, but it clings to me, unshakable.
He trails his fingers down my throat, over my shoulder, his touch so gentle it makes my throat tighten.
Then he lifts his head, his stormy eyes searching mine.
The bond surges between us, and I know—he feels it. My doubt. My fear. I can just…tell.
His thumb brushes my cheekbone, so tender it makes me hurt. “Maybe I’m selfish,” he murmurs, voice low. “But I’m glad the bond is sealed. I don’t ever want to let you go.”
The words should soothe me, but they don’t. Not completely. My body stiffens, just a little. His brow furrows, his grip tightening fractionally.
“But… before, you wanted to break it,” I say.
His jaw tightens. “I thought you couldn’t possibly want this.” His voice is careful, measured. “I thought you deserved better. That you’d regret me.” And then I can feel it—not my fear and doubt, but his.
“Rowan,” I whisper, threading my fingers into his curls.
“No. God, no.” My voice cracks. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I walked into your class.
Since you called on me and actually listened when I answered.
Since you told me my research was brilliant and meant it.
” I shoot him a small smile. “Since I couldn’t stop staring at your ass in those tight black pants.
Since I became obsessed with your voice, your smile, your hands… everything.”
His breath saws out of him unevenly. His hands frame my face, thumbs stroking over my cheeks. “Norah, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” I blurt out, the words spilling out of me before I can stop them. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I was too scared to say it, and then the bond happened and I thought—” My voice breaks. “I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
His expression softens, his eyes all warm and melty, little lines fanning out around them. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice tight with emotion. “I love you, Norah. I think I have for a long time.”
The bond shines between us, and I can feel the truth of his words. My breath stutters in my chest, my heart swelling until I think it might burst.
Before I can say anything, he’s kissing me, hungry and desperate, and I melt into him.
His hands slide down my body, gripping my hips, as he rolls us onto our sides, his cock still inside me, my legs around his waist. The bond pulses, demanding more, and I arch into him with a whimper, fresh arousal flooding me.
His cock is already hardening inside me again, and we start to rock into each other as we kiss and kiss and kiss.
We don’t come up for air until dawn streaks across the sky.