17. Bailey
Bailey
Icouldn’t breathe. Or maybe I was breathing too fast. My lungs pulled in air that never felt like enough, my pulse fluttering wildly beneath my skin as heat pooled low in my belly.
I couldn’t get enough of Noah; the attention, the focus, the way his body pressed into mine like I was something to be claimed and cherished at the same time. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this turned on, this revered.
His simple check-in was all the consent he needed before tugging my blouse over my head and tossing it somewhere across the room.
He sat up, expertly working the clasp of my bra before pulling it free and exposing my breasts to the open air.
He stared down at my chest, and if it weren’t for the painful-looking strain in the front of his pants, I might have wondered if something was wrong with me.
My breasts weren’t small, lifted, or symmetrical—a deep insecurity of mine since puberty. One was slightly fuller than the other, with nipples darker than I thought they should be.
“Fucking stunning,” he grunted, taking a handful in each hand and halting any thoughts of insecurity.
His thumbs brushed slowly over my nipples, the soft friction sending sparks straight through me. He rolled the sensitive peaks between his fingers, gradually increasing pressure until my back arched off the couch.
“Noah…more,” I breathed.
He shushed me softly. “You don’t need to beg, baby. Not yet.”
His mouth closed around one nipple. He sucked slowly at first, circling his tongue around the pebbled skin, and watching my face for reactions.
Then he sucked deeper and firmer, my fingers tangling in his hair and gripping tightly as if I was afraid he’d take this pleasure away from me at any moment.
I couldn’t hold on to a single thought long enough to finish it.
While his mouth worshipped one breast, his hand lavished attention on the other, squeezing and pulling just enough to make my hips shift beneath him.
“Oh my god. Just like that.” My head rolled side to side, and all I could focus on was the warmth of his mouth absolutely devouring my breasts.
He bit down lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make me gasp.
“My pretty girl likes her nipples played with,” he stated against my skin. It wasn’t a question; he could tell from my reactions.
I nodded quickly, desperate for him not to stop.
He squeezed both breasts again, possessive yet reverent, like he couldn’t believe they were his to touch.
He told me I was beautiful and that he loved my body, and if I wasn’t so painfully aroused, I might have cried.
No one had ever looked at me like this before.
The truth was, I’d struggled to orgasm with partners before. I had spent too many nights pretending and too many moments in my own head rather than in my body. But the way he looked at me now, like my pleasure mattered more than his own, made something inside me loosen.
He pinched my nipple harder this time, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and something about my expression must have conveyed how utterly wrecked I already was.
“Are you all worked up now, baby?” he said, his voice low and sinful. “I bet your pussy is swollen and aching because it’s perfect, just like the rest of you. Can I take you to bed? The first time I make you come, I want you in my room. In my sheets.”
“Please,” I whispered.
His eyes searched mine, steady and sure.
“Okay,” he murmured, like a vow.
He stood and lifted me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me down the hallway to his room.
He entered and placed me gently onto the bed before tugging his shirt over his head.
I’d seen him shirtless before, but that didn’t make the sight of him any less breathtaking.
I pushed my shorts and panties down my legs, grateful that the fading sunlight left the room in a soft glow.
He crawled over me and took my face between his hands.
“Tonight is about you, Bailey. About pleasing you and showing you just how gone I am for you.” His thumbs brushed back and forth across my cheeks. “If you want to stop, we stop. No questions asked. We’ll watch a movie, or I’ll take you home. Whatever you want.”
My throat tightened. My fingers curled into the sheets beneath me, gripping hard. The tenderness in his voice warred with the heat pooling between my thighs. A flash of fear sparked in my chest—not of him, but of how deeply I wanted this. How badly I wanted him.
My eyes burned.
I placed my palm against his chest, tracing slowly over the ridges of muscle.
“I want this. Don’t hold back on me.”
His mouth claimed mine in a deep, steady kiss. He trailed downward, flicking his tongue over my nipples before muttering something filthy to make my pulse spike all over again. His hand ghosted down my stomach, savoring the softness before settling between my thighs.
“What am I going to find down here?” he murmured. “Are you going to be soaked for me?”
Embarrassingly so.
He smacked lightly at the inside of my thigh, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
“Answer me, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” I moaned. “It’s for you. Just for you.”
He teased me mercilessly. Fingers grazing everywhere but where I needed him most—caressing my thighs, gripping my ass, tracing the delicate skin between my legs.
“You’re so soft,” he breathed. “Like velvet beneath my fingertips.”
He pressed the pad of his finger against my clit, applying gentle pressure before sliding lower, collecting my arousal and spreading it slowly over my folds. My head tipped back, and I couldn’t even care what I looked like; nothing could feel better than having all of Noah’s attention on me.
“I’m going to give you more,” he said quietly. “But I need to hear you ask for it.”
“Please,” I begged. “I need your fingers inside me.”
My answer seemed to satisfy him. He slid two fingers inside me, stretching me slowly, pumping with deliberate rhythm.
I gasped at the fullness. He curved them just right while his thumb circled my clit.
The sounds my body was making should have embarrassed me, but all I could think about was how pleased Noah looked every time he pulled his fingers out and saw them dripping with my wetness.
I pinched my nipples and squeezed my eyes shut, not sure if I could take any more but eagerly wanting it.
“Eyes on me, Bailey,” he demanded softly. “Watch me take care of your pussy.”
I forced my eyes open, locking onto his as he added a third finger and stretched me even wider. He increased the pressure, thumb firmly on my clit, his fingers curling into the deepest parts of me.
“Oh fuck. I’m so full.” If this was what he could achieve with his fingers, I was going to be no match for the rest of him. “I’m so close already, Noah—”
“That’s it,” he murmured, watching me fall apart around his hand. “You’re taking my fingers like such a good, needy girl.”
He sped up the timing of his thrusts, his fingers making the most vulgar noises as they pulled in and out of me. My body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and I never wanted this connection with him to end.
“Gushing all over my hand just like I knew you would.” He pressed a hand down on my lower stomach, holding me in place while his fingers punished me in the best way possible. “Come whenever you need to, Bailey. Let. Go. For. Me.”
His thrusts matched the timing of his words, and my orgasm tore through me from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. My body tensed, every muscle wound tightly, then shattered around him.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, over and over. My body trembled, slow waves still rolling through me as I tried to catch my breath, my mind lagging behind like it hadn’t quite caught up to what he’d just done to me.
He withdrew his fingers slowly and brought them to his mouth, sucking off my cum before pressing them gently to my lips. I opened for him without hesitation and sucked on his fingers, tasting myself, and rolling my tongue around the pads of his fingertips.
When he finally pulled away, he gathered me firmly against his chest, his erection hard against my thigh.
“You leave me speechless, pretty girl,” he murmured, cradling the back of my head. “You were incredible trusting me like that.” He kissed my forehead before sitting up. “Let me grab you some water real quick.”
I caught his hand before he could leave the bed.
“I want to take care of you, too.”
His thumb brushed over my bottom lip before he bent to kiss me again.
“Like I said earlier,” he murmured against my mouth, “tonight was about you. No reciprocation needed. No keeping score. Just me taking care of my girl.”
“Oh? Did we establish I was your girl already?” I teased.
His mouth curved. “If we haven’t, we will.”
I snuggled back into his sheets, breathing in his scent and pushing away every fear about what this meant for us.
When he returned, we drank our water, and he pulled me against him, resting my head on his firm pecs. My fingers traced lazy patterns along his shoulders.
I was having trouble describing how I was feeling. Giddy felt too juvenile, and obsessed felt too heavy. I wondered if it was presumptuous of me to stay the night, but it seemed like he didn’t have any plans to let me go. Out of his arms or his life.
“Do you feel as affected by this as I do?” I asked quietly.
He tipped his head back to look at me.
“I’m consumed, baby,” he said softly. “Utterly and completely consumed.”