25. Georgie
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GEORGIE
Noah is like lightning. One moment I’m straddling him on my couch, giving him permission to do whatever it is he’s asking to do, and the next minute he’s standing with me wrapped around him like I’m climbing him like a tree.
I’m grappling, hands all over him to hold myself so he doesn’t have to carry my weight.
But he just shifts me up on his hips, and I’m locking my feet and—god.
He’s kissing me until I forget my own name.
I want to argue that I can walk, but his grip tightens on my ass, elbows locking me in as we stumble down the hall, never breaking apart until he’s putting me down on my bed.
“That was hot,” I say, laying back on my elbows to take him in. I look down at my body, my shirt dishevelled, pants slipping down on my hips, lips still singing from the kiss. I can just imagine what I look like…
He slips his shirt over his head in one fell swoop. Noah stands before me and takes me in, and I don’t know what I did to deserve this but remind me to do it every day.
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and smiles at me. “You look like you want to eat me,”
I snort. “You offering?”
The reaction I get is… otherworldly. His eyes slip shut, he bites his lip then lets out a soft gasp and quiet whine when I trail a foot gently along his inseam up, up, up, then pulling away.
His eyes open, and his pupils are huge. I see his toes curl where they’re barefoot on my floor.
When he looks at me like this, my whole body lights on fire.
“Georgie,” he says my name like a prayer, gracefully falls to his knees and looks up at me like I am the only thing in this universe. I am the only thing in his universe.
“Noah,” I echo.
I see his moment of contemplation. I wonder what’s going through his mind.
But it doesn’t take long to realize what it is he wants; he grabs me by my ankles and pulls me until I’m at the edge of the bed and gasping through giggles.
This is effortless, this moment between us.
I don’t worry about my scars, I feel amazing, and it’s a welcomed feeling.
I want this more than I can tell him. I cup his cheeks and kiss him just because I can as his fingers trace the waist of my leggings.
“Let me worship you. Please. It’s all I can think about. I have to taste, I need you, Georgie,”
His words are a kick into sexual overdrive. In reply to his questions, I throw my head back and let out a breathless gasp when he nudges me to raise my hips, he coaxes my leggings down, down, down. I swallow hard, resting on my elbows and watching as he takes me in. All of me.
He sees the paleness of my legs and the scarring that he isn’t fazed by, but more importantly, he sees the fact that I am not wearing underwear underneath the leggings.
Noah’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and damn it, I believe him.
I watch his hands, his huge fucking hands as they touch my thighs, littered with surgery scars and HS scars, watch as he guides my foot up so my heel rests on the edge of the bed frame, but my body is on the bed.
It gives him perfect access when he moves my knees out and open, hips wide and on full display for him.
When he looks up from my exposed, bare skin, he looks nearly feral.
“Oh my God. You’re killing me, G.”
“You’re—” I hiss as his hands grip my thighs gently and inch closer to where I want him to be. My legs tremble in anticipation, and my body lets out a shiver I can’t hold back, “You’re making me cold.”
He hums, “Well we can’t have that.”
His lips kiss their way up each leg, from calves to knees and at each thigh, it’s like he’s kissing a precious piece of art.
I am the art. He takes his time; he has me hot and shivering all at the same time.
His breath teases my skin, warm and soft and sending shivers up my spine. I let out a soft moan.
“Warmer…?” He hums softly against my left thigh.
“Noah, if you don't touch me soon, I think I’m going to die.“ His fingers, deft and sneaky, they gently glide up the sensitive crease where my leg meets my center. He doesn't touch me there, not yet, but he’s testing the limit of how far and how long I’m willing to put up with this.
“I know it's all new to us… but I want to take my time with you. I want to get to know your body like the back of my hand. I want to trace every single inch. I want to take whatever it is you want to give. I want to worship you and make you feel… everything if you’ll let me. So, show me how you want me to touch you, Georgie. Teach me how to make you feel so good the only thing you’ll remember is my name.
Use me however you need me. Please. Georgie. ”
I have never in my life had an orgasm simply from a person's words before, but if there was ever a moment for that to happen for the first time… this would be it. His words rock me to my core. I tighten and tense like he’s inside me and not just staring at the reaction his words have caused.
I can’t begin to imagine how I look when I fist my fingers into his hair, “Get over here and make good on your promise then.”
The visceral moan that escapes his lips as I guide him to where I want him, need him, is glorious. His mouth is open and waiting and the second he’s close enough, he’s sucking in a breath like he never plans to come up for air and—
“Oh. God.”
The hand not in his hair twists the sheets.
I try and fail to stay up on my elbows to watch him because the sight of his face deep between my legs is enough to do me in, and I want this moment to last forever.
He’s relentless, his tongue eager and coaxing even more wetness than I’ve ever known humanly possible out of me.
There’s an ever-present pressure on my clit, and it rubs in small, tantalizing circles.
Enough to keep me on edge but not enough to make me come as his tongue dives deeper, lapping at me like it’s all he ever wants to do again, and he wants this to continue forever.
I want this to continue forever. I hiss when he hums against my sensitive skin, his expression completely unreadable but he knows what he’s doing.
“Noah.” I shift my hips, bucking against him with a needy pant.
He pulls away from me with a wicked grin when I whine from the loss, his face absolutely covered in me. He looks absolutely pleased with himself as he twirls the finger at my clit a little harder for more pressure.
“Tell me what you want, Georgie. There’s nothing more I want than to give it to you.”
His words undo me. I tremble, “Pressure. So much pressure.”
The hand that isn’t touching me there with circles and making my mind melts grips at my thighs, his nails tracing down my skin like hot lines of welcomed fire. “Like this?”
I groan and hiss when he stops, fingers slowly brushing against the new marks, “Yes. I- sometimes scars make it hard to feel from the nerve damage it left behind, but I need it. Overwhelm me. Touch me. Fuck me. Make it rough,”
He does the motion again, gentler this time but still amazing- and it makes me shudder at the sensation.
“It feels so—ah shit. Do that again.”
His fingers swirl and trace back to where I truly want them again. “Fingers. I need them,”
“Do you want lube?” He asks thoughtfully.
I’ve never had a man ask me that before. I never thought a man caring about something other than his own pleasure could be so fucking sexy.
I glance to my nightstand on the other side of my bed where I know my bottle of lube is, and I think about how I will have to move to get it.
Then I think about Noah’s position, and I think about how good he’s making me feel even though his knees are likely screaming.
As much as I don’t want him to stop, I also don't want his pain to be at my pleasure unless he wants that.
I place a hand on his shoulder to still his movements, sitting up to meet his face.
“Do you want to come onto the bed? We can change positions or- “
He grins, his laugh at the back of his throat, “I don’t think you realize how much I love being on my knees for you. Sure, the floors is a little harder than I’m used to, but believe me, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Unless you want me to come up there and-“
“You could come kiss me,” I encourage him, watching his eyes grow dark.
“I’d like that.” Noah rises from the floor, saying nothing about the slight pop his knees make when he does.
I shift back on the bed for him to climb in with me, kicking off the remainder of my pants.
He doesn’t ask me to take my shirt off, and I’ve never been one to like being completely naked during sex for the sole reason that it’s additional friction and I don’t want to have to deal with flares later.
I forget the moment of self-doubt as he crawls over me, still almost fully clothed aside from a shirt, and me half naked and impossibly turned on and still not given an orgasm. This just won’t do.
He kisses me, softly at first, and then so intensely I forget to breathe. I can taste myself on his tongue and follow him when he pulls away from me.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Georgie. I’ll do anything.”
I make a thoughtful expression, “I want you naked. I want to see you. And then…”
He shifts in his place as I pop the button on his jeans. He makes a soft hiss as the pressure releases. I feel how hard he is under my hands, trace down the shadow of him through his boxers as he shifts to remove his jeans, and then the boxers follow.
“Oh god.”
He’s a fucking vision. He’s naturally bronzed, and his hair is going every which way from my hands fisting it.
My eyes trail down his toned body and stop at the soft lines at his hips and then down to what I’ve had wet dreams about.
His cock is a work of art, hard for me and me only, begging to be touched but he’s so good and gracious and concerned about me that he doesn’t even notice the precum at the tip that I secretly want to taste.
He shifts, realizing I’m taking him in from all angles.
Thinking of every possible way I want him.
That I can have him. He’s mine to have. And if that isn’t the best damn thing, smite me right here and now.
“What are you thinking?” He asks, not nervously or self-conscious, just waiting for me to say something.
I meet his gaze, “I want so many things at the moment.”
“The first one being?”
“The first one being you sit back and touch yourself,” I say thoughtfully but with a tone that suggests he should listen.
His breath hitches, “But this is about—“
“What I want, right? You want to give me what I want, and what I want is to see you touching yourself. Softly, not too much. Good.”
I watch him as he listens to me without another word, touching himself and adjusting to my words, to my liking. His body shivers, his eyes are closed, and his cheeks are pink.
He whimpers and meets my eyes, “Georgie.”
My name is like a prayer on his lips, the only word in his mind right now.
He says it again but with a gasp and a sigh of relief when I take his cock in my hand and start touching him just because I can.
I feel the soft underside and the veins along him, the tremble in his grip and his thighs and,god I want everything with him.
I want him in my mouth, I want him inside me, I want him begging me to come, I want.
And I realize I can have. All I have to do is say the word, and he’d let me.
It’s such a big responsibility to have, one I take very seriously.
“Stop.” I breathe the word into the crook of his neck where I’ve rested my head to just take him in. He makes a soft noise like he wants to argue, but I feel his hand fall away a moment later. It makes me shiver at the thought of this. I did this. I get to do this because he lets me.
He rests his head on my shoulder, hands on his thighs, body trembling from being close.
“You here with me?” I ask, noticing his even breathing that could be mistaken for sleep.
“Yes,” his voice is soft and pliant, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Good. I want you to kiss me. Then I want you to touch me, make me come, because you promised me you’d do that.”
“And then?” He says softly, pulling away from my shoulder to meet my eyes.
His expression causes butterflies, no, it causes my whole body to tremble. He looks beautiful, pink-lipped and wide eyes, only for me. I know he’s hanging on my every word, and I intend to make every single one count.
I touch his cheek and smile, before threading my fingers in his hair and twisting just enough, watching his eyes roll back just for a second, his cock twitching from the feeling. Then he’s smiling and looking at me again, and I know I have him as much as he has me.
“And then, if you listen. I’ll let you come.”
“Please.” He sounds so sweet when he says it, eyes wide.
I trail a finger down his chest, relishing in the trembles and goosebumps I elicit on my way. “And if you’re really good, you’re going to make good on that promise to fuck me until I forget my own name.”
“Jesus. You’re a Goddess.” He gasps, cock twitching again appreciatively and I stroke him once, twice, just for good measure.
I chuckle. “It’s Georgie, but I like the sound of that too.”
His head falls back in a moan. It’s all he can do to keep from reacting the way he wants to.
“Look at me.” He does. “Show me what you can do, and don’t you dare hold back.”
He swallows hard, and then- he smiles. No, he full on beams rays of sunlight at me.
It’s too much. I know it’s at this moment that there’s no going back, and I have never wanted something so badly in all my life.
I want this moment frozen in time forever, and I want this—and only this—for as long as he’ll let me have him.