22. Slippery When Wet #2
He releases my hands and cups my cheek. “You’re a woman now, baby. You have curves and softness in all the right places. There isn’t a single part of you I won’t love.”
Don’t dwell on that last word, Clio. He didn’t mean anything by it.
“But—”
His soft lips press to mine. It’s a slow unraveling—a delicious distraction.
My eyelids drift shut. His tongue glides against the seam, and I open for him.
It’s not long before I’m completely lost to the kiss— to the gentle give and take.
It’s so different from before, like he’s taking his time trying to learn what makes me quiver, and Noah Weston is a star pupil.
I barely register the first strap sliding off my shoulder, or the second. Cool air rises up to greet me as the fabric pools on the floor at my feet. I gasp and rush to cover myself.
When I glance up at Noah, his eyes are closed.
“I won’t look until you’re ready.” He releases me and takes two measured steps back, then his hands find the hem of his shirt, and he tugs it off over his head.
Noah is a work of art. I’ve known that for a long time, based on what little I’d already seen of his tattoos, but his chest is something else. There’s a large luna moth spanning half of his torso that looks very similar to the Lunar Ink logo. I make a mental note to ask about it later.
Balling up the fabric, he playfully tosses it in my general direction.
I catch a hint of his delicious scent as the fabric soars past me, but the sound of his zipper draws me back in.
His jeans drop and he kicks them off to the side until he’s standing there in nothing but a pair of black briefs and white socks.
I giggle at the sight.
“That’s not exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he grumbles.
“It’s the socks. You just look so… cozy.”
He hops on one foot and tugs off the first, then the second, and tosses them to the side. “Better?”
“Yeah,” I say dreamily. I let my eyes wander over every bit of his mostly naked body, skipping past the rather large bulge between his legs.
He has a thigh tattoo. Some kind of script I can’t make out from this distance.
“I can feel you ogling me,” he says amusedly.
“Can you blame me? You’re… you.”
He huffs out a breath through his nose and crooks his finger at me. “Put me out of my misery, princess. Let me feel you.”
I pad toward him, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. When I’m close enough to touch, I trace one wing of his moth tattoo with my index finger, causing his abs to flex.
“Can I touch you?” he whispers.
In answer, I take his right hand in mine and lift it to kiss his open palm before placing it over my left breast. His breath catches, and his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks like it’s taking all of his self-control not to open his eyes.
He gently caresses the soft swell before skating across to give the other side equal attention, then his hand travels down my sternum to my squishy belly that hangs slightly over a raised C-section scar. “Tell me if you need me to stop and I will.”
“No. Don’t stop.”
His head tips forward and he kisses my collarbone, a second hand joining the first to explore every slope of my ample body.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against my skin.
I thread my fingers through the hair at the base of his skull as he nips and sucks across my chest and neck.
“I want to see you.” His voice carries a husky edge to it now, like his restraint is dangling by a single thread that, if pulled, could unravel us both.
It’s then that I realize… I want to be unravelled.
“Ok. I’m ready.” The words come out breathy as I put some distance between us, reaching behind my back to unclasp my bra with more confidence than I feel.
His eyes open as it drops to the floor at my side, leaving me in nothing but my ridiculous strawberry panties. If I’d known this was a possibility, I would’ve chosen something less… fruity.
My hands tremble as his gaze rakes over me from head to toe, making me feel more vulnerable and exposed than ever.
“Fuuuck, baby.”
His gruff voice reverberates through me, and my pussy flutters in anticipation. He sinks back on the bed, bouncing with the force of his movement. “Come here.”
I step between his spread thighs, nervous energy ratcheting up my pulse.
He kneads my ass and presses a trail of kisses against my marred stomach, and I close my eyes to revel in the tenderness of the moment. Each brush of his soft lips feels like an affirmation.
You’re beautiful.
You’re strong.
You’re worthy.
A tear slides down my cheek, and his name comes out on a soft exhale.
His ocean eyes meet mine, stealing whatever I’d been about to say. He grips my hips and settles me on his lap. It’s not a new position for us, but it feels more meaningful this time, and far too dangerous for my heart to contend with.
He cradles my face and his thumb skates along my cheekbone, capturing the stray tear.
“This body made Lexi. It held her and kept her safe for nine whole months. Then it carried you through life as you raised her and pushed your needs to the wayside for years. Do you really think I would look at you, at your scars and whatever it is you’ve endured, and think you’re anything less than perfect? ”
His words wrap around my heart and squeeze. Noah is a beautiful man, but this softer side is more breathtaking than any version of him I’ve seen.
This Noah could break me.
He hasn’t seen the full extent of my scars, all but one left by a man who tried and failed to break me and a woman who did nothing to stop him. All I have to do is turn around, and my past will be exposed. What will he think of my body then?
“Hey.” Noah’s voice brings me back onto solid ground. “What are you thinking about?”
I expel a breath, uncertain how to answer such a simple question when a million more could follow in its wake. I don’t make a habit of lying, but just this once, I do it for me. For the Clio who needs this moment to go on forever, so he’ll keep looking at me like I’m something to be cherished.
“Nothing. Just kiss me.”
He smirks. “So demanding.”
He’s been smiling more often lately.
I wish he wouldn’t. He’s giving me a false sense of security, and each time I feel another crack forming in the walls I’ve built to keep people out. But isn’t that the whole point of this arrangement? To tear down those walls and start living again?
He takes my mouth in another delicious kiss, this one more heated than the last. My hips begin moving of their own accord, grinding and seeking friction. His groan vibrates through me as his grip tightens against my waist.
He pulls back, gasping. “I need to be inside you.”
I shift off his lap and move to the center of the bed, watching as he strips out of his underwear. His cock juts out between his Adonis belt, long and thick with a small patch of neatly trimmed hair at the base. I half expected a tattoo there, too, but it’s untouched.
His fist wraps around his hard length, giving it a few long, slow strokes. As far as dicks go, this is only the second one I’ve ever seen in person, and it’s intimidating. Maybe I should’ve asked his size before I agreed to do this. As if sensing my thoughts, he says, “Don’t worry. I’ll go slow.”
He stalks toward me and kneels on the edge of the bed, the mattress shifting beneath his weight. “What were you thinking about that night?”
I know exactly what night he’s talking about, but I’m not about to admit it. “What night?”
“Don’t deny it, Clio. We both know what happened. Tell me what I was doing to you in your fantasy.”
My stomach swoops. “You were inside of me.”
“Mm. Do you want to know what I was imagining?”
Oh god. Do I? Will I survive it? There’s only one way to find out. “Yes.”
“I was buried so fucking deep inside your perfect cunt. Your nails scraped my back as I fucked you into the mattress over and over, my balls slamming into your pussy with each thrust. Your heels digging into my ass.” He strokes himself a few more times. “Fuck, baby. The way we fit together…”
The mouth on this man.
“Do it,” I grit out. “Fuck me, Noah.”
His fingers hook into the side of my panties, and he tugs them all the way off, tossing them over the side of the bed.
My pulse picks up as he crawls over me, one hand gliding up the outside of my thigh as he lines himself up at my center.
“All of my tests are negative, and I haven’t been with anyone since. Are you on birth control?”
“Yes. I’m good.”
“I can wear a condom if you prefer, but I’m not going to lie. I really want to feel you bare.”
“I want that, too.”
He takes himself in hand and slides his cock through my wetness, rubbing the head against my sensitive clit. It feels fucking incredible. He notches himself at my entrance and presses his lips to mine as he slowly pushes forward.
I gasp as he enters me.
“Breathe, baby. I can’t have you passing out on me yet. Not until I’ve made you come so many times you can’t feel your toes.”
I release the breath and smile. “Is that a threat?”
“A promise.”
He pulls out slowly and slides back in, each movement carefully measured as my body adjusts to his size. I feel so deliciously full, like he was made to fit me, but I know that’s just my heart running away with me again.
Steel yourself, Clio. This doesn’t mean anything.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Wonderful. I—I need more. Faster.”
He threads his fingers through mine and brings my right arm over my head as the opposite hand reaches behind my thigh and curls my leg behind his back. The new position changes the angle of his thrusts, pushing him deeper still.
I moan, throwing my head back to look up at the ceiling. He fucks me faster, deeper, harder than before, pistoning his hips, and I disappear into a haze of pure bliss, my body tingling from sheer pleasure.
“Look at me, princess. I want to see those pretty eyes when you fall apart.”