Chapter Four | TORIN #3
I let go of her wrist, caught the hem of her tee, and pulled it up. Noa lifted her arms without hesitation. The shirt hit the floor. Her bra was plain black, practical, and did nothing to hide the hard points of her nipples beneath the fabric.
My mouth went dry.
Noa’s chin lifted. “You have a staring problem.”
“You’re the problem.”
That landed in her eyes, fast and dangerous.
Then she reached back, unclipped her bra, and let it drop.
My hands closed on her waist.
Her breasts were full and high, nipples tight in the cool room air.
I bent and took one into my mouth because there was no world in which I could keep standing there and not taste her.
Noa’s hand drove into my hair. Her back arched off the wall, tits pressing up for me, her breath breaking in a way that made every protective instinct I owned turn possessive and filthy.
“You wanted my mouth,” I said against her skin. “Take it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She pulled my hair hard enough to sting. “You talk too much.”
I bit lightly at the underside of her breast, then soothed it with my tongue. “You like some of it.”
“I like maybe half of it.”
“I’ll improve my ratio.”
I switched to her other nipple and sucked harder. Her hips rolled forward against mine, and the feel of her rubbing against my cock through too many layers nearly put me on my knees for an entirely different reason.
Noa’s hand went to my belt.
I caught it. “You’ll get there.”
Her dark eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to direct this entire disaster.”
“I’m not directing it.” I dropped to my knees in front of her. “I’m enjoying it.”
For once, Noa had nothing immediate to say.
I undid her boots first, one and then the other. Then I unfastened her pants and pulled them down with her underwear. She stepped out of both, naked from the waist down, one hand braced on the wall, looking down at me like she might still decide to ruin my life for sport.
My hands slid up the backs of her thighs.
Her skin was warm. Smooth. Alive under my palms. I gripped her ass and pulled her closer, spreading her enough to see how wet she was for me.
Noa sucked in a breath.
I looked up at her. “All that arguing, and this is how much you wanted me.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You’re very brave for a man on his knees.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Then I put my mouth on her pussy.
Noa’s head hit the wall behind her, and my name came out of her like she was furious with both of us for it.
The sound hit straight under my ribs.
I licked her slow at first, one long stroke through the heat of her, then another, tasting how ready she was, feeling her thighs tense under my hands. She tried to keep still for about three seconds before her hips moved into my mouth.
I wanted her wild. I wanted the stillness gone. I wanted Noa Dahl all teeth and claws and need, no distance left to hide behind.
I sucked her clit, and her fingers tightened in my hair.
“Torin.”
“Say it again.”
“Don’t get demanding.”
I slid two fingers into her.
Her words broke into a sharp gasp.
“Say it again,” I said, and curled my fingers inside her.
Her body clenched around me. “Torin.”
I groaned against her clit and worked her with my mouth, tongue and fingers together, learning what made her breath hitch, what made her hips chase, what made her grip my hair hard enough to hurt.
Noa didn’t go quiet. She didn’t stand there and receive.
She rode my mouth with one hand in my hair and one braced against the wall, thighs shaking, eyes open every time I looked up at her.
A savage part of me wanted to call her mine.
I sucked harder instead.
Noa’s hips jerked. “Fuck.”
“Come on my tongue.”
Her eyes locked on mine.
Maybe the eye contact did it. Maybe the words did.
Maybe it was the way my fingers drove into her while my mouth stayed on her clit, steady and merciless.
Her body went tight all at once, and then she came, pulsing around my fingers, thighs trembling, mouth open on a sound she didn’t try to swallow.
I held her through it. I licked her through it. I didn’t stop until she shoved at my shoulder with a shaking hand.
“Torin,” she said, breathless. “I need a second.”
I kissed the inside of her thigh. “Take one.”
Her eyes sharpened despite the flush high on her cheeks. “Almost considerate.”
“I’ve got layers.”
“That seems doubtful.”
I stood, and she grabbed my shirt again before I was fully upright. Her mouth crashed into mine, and she kissed herself off my tongue with a filthy little sound that made my control snap another inch.
Then she shoved me back.
I let her.
The backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and I sat hard. Noa stepped between my legs, naked except for the gold bracelet and the wrecked remains of her composure. She pushed my torn shirt off my shoulders, eyes dragging over my chest, my ribs, the tattoo along my side.
Her fingers traced the script.
Ora Pro Nobis Peccatoribus.
“Pray for us sinners,” she said.
“Catholic school?”
“Lucky guess.”
“You keep having those.”
“You keep giving me material.”
She bent and kissed the first word inked along my ribs.
The touch wasn’t soft. Her mouth was hot, and when her teeth grazed my skin, my hand fisted in the sheet beside me.
Noa looked up. “You’ve got a problem now.”
“I’ve had one since you walked into Claudia’s office.”
She smiled then. Not sweet. Not kind. Wicked enough to make my pulse slam.
“That works for me.”
She undid my belt, opened my jeans, and pulled me free.
Her fingers wrapped around my cock, and my breath left through my teeth.
Noa’s gaze dropped. Her hand moved slowly from base to head, testing the weight of me, the size, the effect she had. I watched her eyes darken as pre-cum gathered at the tip.
“Still pleased with yourself?” she asked.
“More by the second.”
She lowered to her knees.
The sight of her there should have killed me. Noa Dahl, dark hair around her shoulders, mouth swollen from mine, bare tits rising with every breath, one hand on my thigh and the other stroking my cock like she had every intention of making me regret every smug thing I’d ever said.
That would take a while.
She licked the head first, slow and direct, tongue catching the pre-cum from the tip. My hand moved to her hair before I could stop it.
Her eyes flashed.
I froze.
Noa’s hand tightened around me. “Don’t get polite now.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ll bite if I’m not.”
“Christ, you’re magnificent.”
She took me into her mouth.
Heat closed around the head of my cock, wet and tight, and I nearly came right there like a teenage fool with delusions of stamina. Noa knew it too. She hummed, pleased with herself, and took me deeper.
My fingers tightened in her hair.
“That mouth,” I said, voice wrecked already. “You’ve been using it against me all day, and it’s even better like this.”
She pulled off long enough to look up. “You’re still talking.”
“You’re still listening.”
She smiled with my cock in her hand. “Barely.”
Then her lips closed around me again, and conversation became less important by a fair margin.
She worked me with mouth and hand together, tongue swirling, nails biting lightly into my thigh, taking me deeper every time until my control narrowed to the wet heat of her mouth and the dark satisfaction in her eyes.
Noa wasn’t performing. She was taking. Learning.
Watching what broke my rhythm and doing it again because she liked the power of it.
I liked it too much.
I caught her under the arms and hauled her up.
She made a sound of protest. “I wasn’t done.”
“You were about to be.”
“That sounds like surrender.”
“That sounds like I know my limits.”
I turned her under me onto the bed.
Noa landed on the sheets with her hair spread out and her legs parting around me like she had decided the argument could continue horizontally. I stripped off the rest of my clothes fast, because patience had burned to ash somewhere between her mouth and my common sense.
Her gaze moved over me, chest to hips to cock.
The flush in her cheeks deepened.
I settled between her thighs, braced on one arm, and dragged the head of my cock through her wetness.
Noa’s lips parted.
“Look at me,” I said.
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Don’t start issuing orders in bed.”
I pushed into her one slow inch.
Her words vanished.
“That one seemed useful,” I said.
She gripped my shoulders, nails pressing into skin. “Torin.”
I gave her another inch, then another, watching her take me, feeling her body stretch around mine. She was tight and hot and so wet I had to stop halfway or embarrass myself beyond repair.
Noa noticed. Of course she noticed.
Her mouth curved with effort. “Having trouble?”
“I’m trying not to make this embarrassingly quick.”
“You keep saying things like I should reward them.”
“You are.”
I drove the rest of the way in.
Her back arched. My name broke out of her again, rougher this time, and the feel of her taking all of me nearly ended every plan I’d ever had.
I held still, buried deep, jaw clenched hard enough to ache.
Noa’s nails dragged down my back. “Move with me.”
“You need a second.”
“I need you to move.”
“Bossy.”
“Correct.”
I pulled out and thrust back in.
We both stopped pretending after that.
The bed hit the wall once, then again. Noa wrapped her legs around my hips and met every thrust like she had something to prove and intended to prove it with her whole body. I kissed her hard. She bit my lip. I fucked into her deeper, and her cry went straight through me.
“You feel that?” I said against her mouth. “You feel how well you take my cock?”
Her eyes were dark and furious and lit from inside. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“I’m full of you right now, sweetheart.”
She laughed, breathless and shocked by it, then moaned when I changed the angle and hit the spot that made her body lock around me.
“There,” I said. “I felt that.”
“Don’t sound proud.”
“I’m very proud.”
“Torin.”
“I’ve got you.”