Chapter 20
Hannah felt Noah’s breathing even out, his abdomen rising and falling steadily with each breath, and knew he was asleep. It occurred to her she should feel sorry but she didn’t. If anything, she wanted him again.
He had a cock that women’s fantasies were made of, thick and long and hard, the tip bulbous and fat.
Even the taste of him had fueled her desire to have him, her quest for satisfaction leading only to a greater need, and she decided to let him sleep for a while to get his strength back before she went after him again.
She’d gone nearly a year without sex and knew she might go longer without it the next time, so she had every intention of fucking Noah until his energy and his balls ran dry.
Hell, I might even fuck him some more after that.
She needed this to remind her she was human after so many nights as an aching mass of grief. Joe was gone but she was alive, and living people needed to be touched and loved, to come together and pleasure each other.
I need it.
She held no illusions about this man. If the ocean weren’t flowing beneath this building, he’d be long gone from here. But he was here now, present as any person could be for another, and she was going to take full advantage of the situation.
She moved out of his arms, separating their bodies and rolling him onto his side, amused when he didn’t wake up. He was tired, and for a moment she felt guilty for what she was about to do—the very furthest thing from letting him sleep.
Her hands stroked his back, glorying in the deep moan of pleasure that resonated in his chest. She kissed his skin, then stroked him again. She repeated the same motions on his neck and upper arms. Massage, then kiss, with strong hands and an eager mouth as she made her way around his body.
She slipped down lower on the bed, moving to his calves, then his thighs, the springy hair she’d first touched when checking on his bullet wound. He had one leg curled in front of the other, leaving his inner thigh exposed, and she slipped her hand between his legs to tease him.
His breathing was heavier now.
She raked his ass cheek with her fingernails, making him gasp. She kissed him there, her hand coming around his hips to gently squeeze his balls, promising more to come if he was willing.
He moved so quickly he startled her, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her to the other side of his body. He latched on to her breast, taking her nipple deep in his mouth, and she smiled wickedly.
His mouth went lower, skating over her abdomen and into her soft curls.
She lifted her knees and he bent his head, kissing her most intimate places and pleasuring her with his tongue.
She’d never felt anything like it, the way he moved against her giving her more pleasure than she’d ever gotten from a man.
Frenzied noises came from her mouth, sounds she didn’t recognize as her own, then his fingers were inside her and she came apart in his hands.
She’d barely come back to earth when he commanded, “Get on your hands and knees.” She flipped her weakened body over, doing as he asked.
He thrust into her with one hard push, his wide member filling her swollen sex like he was made to do so.
She bent her arms, no longer strong enough to hold herself up, resting her head on the pillow as he drilled into her from behind, the slap of his balls on her clitoris a steady rhythm that had her coming to a crescendo once more.
The speed of his thrusts increased. He bent over her body and took a breast in each of his hands, pumping into her while he squeezed her nipples.
A fierce orgasm ripped through her body, pulling her consciousness apart, and he pumped into her harder and faster until he found his own pleasure.
They collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty tangled heap, his cock still tightly stuffed inside her, and this time it was Hannah who was quickly carried away to sleep, her body and her mind well and thoroughly exhausted.