32.5
I quickly shower the working day off my skin and touch up my makeup.
Still with a towel wrapped around my body, I tiptoe downstairs and start rifling through my bags. I know I have something sexy in here somewhere - underwear that matches would do. Maybe just something without a rip in it.
I'm sure I had a sexy two piece back in uni; something that pushed everything in and up. I reach into another bag that I am yet to unpack since I moved in here and begin pulling out various summer clothing pieces.
Something black and stringy catches my eye.
There she is.
Oh, and there are some long socks from my rugby days too. They'll work nicely.
The two piece is small, definitely smaller than I remember it. I hold it up in front of my eyes, watching the little strings that tie across my body dangle. Yes, I've certainly gone up a size or two...
Hm. Trying it on can't hurt.
Once I've managed to tie myself into it I spin slowly in the bathroom mirror, checking where possible skin might spill over. Hips, arms, stomach. I think of Noah's soft kisses down my body and over every inch of my skin as I twist once more in the mirror. It'll do. At least it isn't ripped. (Yet.)
Twenty minutes pass.
I huff around Noah's room and peek through the curtains intermittently. Ten minutes, my ass. He's been gone at least thirty.
To Skye's house. Who does Matt think he is?
I'm beginning to think he's actually losing his mind. I hate her, I want her, I'm done with her, I need to see her - make up your fucking mind. At this point I'm just as confused as she is; no wonder she can't let him go.
Another couple of minutes. I huff and flop onto the bed, grabbing the TV remote from Noah's nightstand.
I'm still flicking through my options when I hear the front door open. I still on the bed. Matt could be with him, he could've easily changed his mind and decided not to fuck Skye tonight. And I'd be here in Noah's bed wearing lingerie.
Well, that's certainly one way to tell him: haha, funny story. I'm in love with your best friend.
Holy shit.
I violently sit up on the bed. My eyes widen. My mouth dries instantly.
I'm - am I?
Oh my God, am I?
The door clicks open.
Noah pauses in the doorway, a bag of takeout food in each hand and Matt's credit card between his teeth. He spits the card onto the floor at his feet.
"Holy shit."
I follow his eyes down. The lingerie I squeezed myself into stares back at me. The black fabric looks sheer under this light and my nipples are showing through the fabric, pointed already.
Noah leans against the door frame, eyes still flickering over my body. I see the swallow of his throat as I lean back against the headboard. Eyes still on my body. I'm not sure he's actually looked at my face yet.
They even follow as I run my thumb up my knee high sock, up my thigh, and then dip under the seam of my underwear.
His voice is coarse. "Stand up."
"Bossy," I mutter, but do as I'm told.
I can hear his deep breath from here. The bed is all that stands between us, and he's still holding that damn takeout food. Holding it tight, white knuckled.
He nods to the end of the bed, in front of the TV.
"Where I can see you. All of you."
I drag my feet on the carpet as I walk there, looking him all over. Looking at every scar, every mark, every line in his face. Feeling my heart beat out of my chest, fast and in threes, like it's saying I love you.
God, is that pathetic?
We've only known each other a few short months but now that I've heard the word associated with Noah I can't get it out of my head.
Standing where he asked, I straighten my shoulders and tilt my head, watching his bottom lip disappear into his mouth.
I look down at my body too. At the straps that begin to cut into my skin, at the strings that I've tied a little too tight around my midsection.
"It's a little small," I feel the need to point out.
A choked noise rises from the back of his throat.
"Maybe put the food down?"
He doesn't take his eyes off me as he does. One second he's stood next to the discarded food, the next he's striding over to me, pulling his shirt over his head with one arm and pushing the waistband of his sweats down with the other.
An expanse of skin is suddenly on display. I don't get the chance to admire it like I should or put my tongue anywhere (and everywhere) that I can because I'm pulled into his body and then pressed against the wall. I almost hiss at the cold on my back.
Warm hands run up the back of my legs and then lift me off the ground. I wrap them around his waist on instinct. He's still looking down at my chest.
"One more question," I whisper. "Before."
"Before?" He grins.
My eyes roll. Here goes.
"Is it just me? After the ex?"
His lips scrunch. "Seems like I could've answered that during."
The heat of him is pushed into me. The underwear, due to being a little tight, immediately sinks between my lips. Following the movement, Noah's head drops to my shoulder.
"You're trying to distract me."
"Is it working?"
"Of course it's working, you're fucking gorgeous."
I push him off me easily, leading him to the bed through conjoined hands. He lets me push him back onto the pillows and climb over him cowgirl style. Looks pleased as I pull his boxers down and leave him naked on the bed to take off my own underwear.
Taking my sweet time, I crawl back on the bed and hover next to him. Then I take him in my mouth.
Immediately he's moaning. He's holding out a hand that I can hold onto to, so I thread my fingers through his and use my other hand to keep his cock steady while I push my throat onto it.
Hand holding during a blowjob. How could I not love him?
I'm unpracticed and slow but Noah is sensitive and receptive and I can feel my body thrumming in the anticipation of fucking him. I've always been like this - rushing the first bits to get to the good stuff. Just getting it over with, usually.
But Noah's hand tightens in mine when he hits the back of my throat and he makes a mewling sound I've never heard before and I don't think I ever want to stop giving him head.
I speed up. I try to open my throat and end up gagging. He moans, looking down at me with eyes so dark I can't even tell they're blue. I kiss the trail of hair up his belly and then lick from base to tip like I'm a goddamn pornstar. His hips rise up and drop again.
More. Faster. Make him come just like this and then make him hard again. My mind goes into overdrive, I'm so horny I can't even think straight. His hand leaves mine and slips between my legs, pressing a finger into my heat just as I take him into my mouth again.
I moan around him and he bucks into the sound.
It's probably not supposed to taste good. Every other woman I've ever met does nothing but complain about giving head but right now I can't get enough of him.
"Maddie, sweetheart-"
I look up through my lashes.
He throws his head back, "fucking hell."
It's in the way he says it. I know he's close and I also know that I want him to come inside my body instead of in my mouth. I sit up and put one leg over the two of his.
He groans, "fuck me."
"I'm going to."
I line us up and sink all the way down.
He can't even retort to the comment because his face immediately scrunches in pleasure once more. The fingers threaded through mine are loose and pliant, as is his entire body. Lost to the feeling.
I push his hands above his head and start grinding.
"Not gonna last," he breathes.
"I'll go slow."
I don't change my pace.
"Fuck, Mads- I'm fucking serious."
I bounce. My thighs burn instantly but I push through the pain because I am no quitter, and also because Noah is an absolute picture beneath me. Barely able to keep his eyes open, certainly not able to close his mouth.
I hover over him, pressing my chest to his but continuing to lift my hips and press them down again.
"You feel so good though." All my words get in return is another moan. "How about I make you come now and later?"
"Yeah?"
We meet eyes, neither of us looking away.
He leans up and catches my lips in a kiss, groaning into my mouth as our skin makes a slapping sound.
"It's just me, isn't it?" I say into his mouth. I already know the answer.
"Fucking hell, Madelaine-"
"How'd you last so long the first time after three years of nothing if you can't even speak while I'm riding you?"
"I haven't. Told you that."
I bounce faster. Push my hips down harder. Press his hands into the pillows behind his head.
"Then tell me."
"No."
Everything stops.
"It's not just me?"
He smirks. "No, I won't tell you."
My eyes narrow. I begin moving again, slowly this time, like I first said I would.
"That's not very romantic of you. Keeping secrets."
"Is that what you want from me? Romance?"
I'm not sure how to answer that. I want everything and more. It doesn't seem like to right time to ask for that though, so instead I begin riding him instead. Let our bodies do the talking.
Noah pulls me flush against himself. I bite down onto his earlobe as I rotate my hips in small circles, feeling every inch of him against me. Feeling him pulse instead me, ready to explode at any second.
"You tell me and I'll tell you," he grits out, moaning half of the words when I bite down again.
Seems like a no-brainer.
"I want it all from you."
And that does it for him. He's digging his nails into me and stuttering into my hair and jutting up from the bed like I've chained him down to it.
I collapse into him, finally allowing myself to feel the burn deep in my thighs. I should definitely work out more. Five minutes of being on top has absolutely taken it out of me.
We stay one sweaty pile on the bed, mixed into one another, joined wherever we can be.
"You know it's just you," he says, voice raspy.
I smile into his hair. "I know."
I also know what Matt said was true. Noah Laurier does not doing anything unless he's in love, and here he is, caressing my back so gently it's a wonder I can even feel it.
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