24. Noah #2
“Noah, what the fuck?” She says out loud this time, staring at the bottle of water in her hand like it’s appeared out of thin air.
“I may have taught her a few tricks,” I tell her, and Georgie’s eyes flash up to me.
“How? When? What even is this?”
“Water. Drink it,” I say with a chuckle, watching as she shakily raises the bottle to her lips.
“Birdie,” I gain her attention again, waiting for her to sit to tell me she’s ready to listen. She does and I smile, while also keeping a sidelong glance at Georgie to see her reaction, “Get basket.”
Birdie disappears, and Georgie holds her breath as she watches Birdie return not even a moment later with a medium-sized wicker basket I bought just for this task to teach her.
Birdie has the basket by the handle, which I’ve strategically covered in fabric so she’s not biting down on the basket itself, and she brings it right to Georgie, sitting and again waiting for her to take it.
Georgie does and whispers a soft good girl as she looks in the basket.
Inside is her current nightstand read, a small throw blanket, a battery-operated handheld fan, a travel-size bottle of Tylenol, snack bars and a non-refrigerated bottle of water.
I didn’t know what else I could add to the basket, but Georgie could change it to whatever she’d need.
Her eyes are wide as she realizes what this is, what I’ve done, what Birdie’s doing.
“Noah,” her voice catches, unable to speak. I can’t tell if it’s good or bad, how she’s feeling. She sets the basket on the coffee table next to her.
“Birdie, settle,” I say softly, watching as Birdie returns to her place in the chair and lets out a soft sigh.
I don’t want to press, to make Georgie feel like she has to say anything or react in some type of way about all this. But the stunned silence has me starting to panic, my hands trembling where they twist nervously in my lap. I clear my throat, “I just thought—”
Before another word leaves my mouth, Georgie is straddling me and gripping my shirt collar like it’s the only thing tethering her to me, to Earth.
She says nothing, but she doesn’t have to.
She kisses me harder, faster, more intense than I’ve ever been kissed in my life.
I let her overwhelm me, I make soft noises of surprise and appreciation, eyes slipping closed and feeling how close she’s pressed her body to me.
I know she can feel me getting hard beneath her, and I almost pull away to warn her, but I don’t even have to do that because she gasps and presses her body down and closer and—
“Shit.” I hiss, head falling back as she rolls her hips against me, intentionally making me lose my mind. All air escapes my lungs in a moan, the soft pleading sound that leaves my lips in the form of her name, “Georgie.”
She shuts me up with a hand gripping the hair at the base of my neck, making my eyes roll back in my head, and the groan falls out without even trying.
This woman has complete control over me.
I’d do anything she asks of me just to make her feel as amazing and as turned on as she’s making me feel right now.
She kisses my cheek, down my jaw, fingers gripping my hair and holding me in place.
All I can do is place my hands on her hips gently and remind myself that she’s the one leading this whole thing.
This is on her terms, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Her other hand reaches for the collar of my shirt and pulls it aside and—
“Georgie!”
It’s a punched-out sound I let out, my hips buck and I can’t control them even if I tried.
She’s made me impossibly hard, and she’s barely done anything but now?
She’s biting me. Hard. It’s only making this so much better.
The sweet sting as she bites and sucks a love bite on my collarbone is enough to push me right to the edge.
She sighs and lets out a soft moan and rolls her hips and—
“Georgie, if you don’t stop now I’m going to—”
She pulls away then, taking in the state she’s put me in.
Her lips are bright pink from kissing me, and her chest is beautifully flushed and rising and falling with each heavy, shaking breath she takes.
Her hair is only slightly messy but her eyes—God.
Her eyes are wild. Her pupils are dilated, and where her eyes are usually this deep chocolate brown that melts me to my core, her eyes are like slivers of liquid honey, golden and bright at the edges.
It’s like liquid fire burning into my soul and turning me on and I have to close my eyes to breathe because, holy shit—she is so damn beautiful.
She is everything, and she is making my brain short-circuit by trailing her hands down my chest and fiddling with the hem of my shirt.
“It has been a long time since I—” She trails off, watching her fingers tease my shirt. I lean forward, hands meeting at the small of her back to hold her close. I press a kiss to her forehead, her nose, her lips. She sighs into my kiss, melts into my touch just a bit.
“We don’t-”
“I want-” She hushes me with another kiss. “I want to. So badly. You have no idea how badly.”
I groan, hiding my face in her neck, breathing her in, “Don’t tell me that.”
“Noah, I just don’t know… I haven’t since my last relationship and the scars—”
Her words tense my entire body, and I have to pull back to meet her gaze. She can’t be serious. Is she serious? Does she really think that would bother me?
“Georgie, I would never judge you… you know that right?” My tone is incredulous, and she flushes pink and glances away from me.
“I know that. But—”
“No.” I stop her, bucking my hips, so she feels me pressing against her. She hisses and her eyes flash to mine with an expression that punches me right in the stomach. “No buts. You are… God, Georgie you are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the chance to know. Don’t you know that?”
“Noah—”
“I’m not done,” I tell her, fingers grazing the waistband of her leggings, making her tense. I press against her again just to get her reaction.
“Do you feel how hard you make me? This, all this.” I swirl my hips, moving hers to match me, grinning when she throws her head back in a soft groan and places her hands on my shoulders. “This is because of you.”
“Noah,” she whines my name this time, a sweet, needy plea. To stop, to keep going, I don’t know.
It’s sweet, sweet torture to be this close to her, to know she feels what she’s doing to me, to hear and to see how I’m affecting her in return.
I want this so badly. I want every part of her.
Want to taste, touch, feel, break her apart and put her back together again over and over.
To take, and take, and take whatever she will give me.
“Please,” I say softly to her, pressing gentle kisses to her neck that she’s bared to me for the taking. “Please, Georgie.”
Her grip on my shoulders tightens when I nip and suck just as she had. I don’t know exactly what I am asking her for, but I’m hoping she’ll understand and let me anyway.
Her body shivers against mine, and she whimpers softly in my ear. I pull her closer and kiss her.
She undoes me with a single word.
“Yes.”