Chapter 12
DUVAL
Her surrender was the sweetest thing he'd ever felt and as he felt her come apart, her release dripping down his fingers, he wanted to feel that delicious heat everywhere.
His cock was threatening to bore a hole through his boxer briefs and his balls were heavy, begging for a release of his own.
The problem?
He didn't have protection.
"Aww fuck."
"I... I thought..." She moaned under him as he slipped his fingers free of her sex, catching her breath as he swirled his slick fingers around her clit. "...that's what we were doing next?"
He ground his teeth together, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't have a condom on me."
Sighing languidly, she sank into the mattress. "Not in those boxer briefs you don't," her shoulders shook a little with laughter.
She wiggled around and he hissed into her ear.
"Rubbing up against me isn't helping things."
"Sorry... sorry..." she was almost breathless and he found that he liked that sound.
A lot.
She wiggled a little more and he backed off to give her room, grumbling under his breath. "You're killing me."
She ended up on her back, the thin fabric of her top did nothing to hide the tight points of her nipples.
He licked his lips and felt his cock thicken even more.
A feat he didn't think was possible.
"There might be..."
He saw her face redden in the soft pink pre-dawn light coming through the window as she pointed in his direction.
"...in the nightstand."
Thank fuck.
He turned over onto his back and slid open the drawer.
There was an open box in there and he picked out the condom on the top.
"It's... it's been a while," she explained, her voice barely a hushed whisper. "So I'm not sure..."
He lifted it up and turned it toward the window. He smiled when he saw the date. "It's good."
He turned to face her and dropped the wrapper on the pillow between their heads.
"Now, come here."
He reached for her, hooking fingers into the waist of her shorts.
"Lift."
Duval saw her cast a quick glance toward the window before lifting her hips.
He swept her shorts off and dropped them off the edge of the bed.
Then he moved on his knees until he was between her legs.
Smiling at her, he set his hands on the insides of her thighs just above her knees.
Using the subtle pressure of his hands, he widened the space between her legs and moved higher on the bed.
He raked his gaze up from her glistening core, over her dark curls, and higher over the gentle swell of her stomach.
Duval reached out a hand and smoothed his open palm over her belly.
Noelle tried to grasp his hands to stop it from moving, but while she got her hand over and nearly around his, she couldn't stop him.
He watched her gaze lower, off to the side.
"What is it, 'Elle?"
He continued to move their hands.
"Why do you want to stop me from touching you?"
She rolled her eyes and huffed at him as if he'd know.
"I'm not a psychic, honey. Tell me."
One more time she tried to shove his hand away.
He turned his hand over, switching positions so he had her hand in his.
Duval lifted her palm to his mouth and pressed a slow, languid kiss against it.
"Noelle..."
"I have stretch marks," she shook her head, a quick, almost imperceptible movement. "I'm glad there's hardly any light in here so you can't see-"
"Stop."
He pushed back, sitting down on his calves.
He kept her hand in his and put his free hand on her hip.
"I'd love to put all the lights on and look at you."
She tensed and he hated that.
In the past, he'd been distracted by appearances.
That's not to say that he didn't think she looked incredible.
He'd seen her legs, her face, her form. Now that he had the chance to see more?
He liked it all...
He fucking loved it all.
Duval leaned in, putting his face over her belly.
He could smell her heat and as he brushed his lips over her skin, he turned his head and licked at his fingers.
The heady scent of her sex and the subtle warmth of her skin against his cheek made him even more hungry for her.
"I don't care about stretch marks." He knew she felt his breath against her skin. "You're a woman. A mother with a child. What more beautiful reason to have them than giving Ciela life?"
He lifted his chin and looked toward her face.
She was looking at him and her eyes were questioning, unsure.
"I've got scars," he told her, "marks on my skin." He smiled at her narrowed gaze. "You don't believe me?"
"Oh," she lifted her hands to his chest. "I... I see them ," she bit into her lip, "it's just different."
He smiled at her and decided that talking wasn't getting him anywhere.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"What are you smiling about?"
He didn't answer her, not with words. McCrae lifted the hem of her shirt and when she tried to pull it free of his hands.
He playfully batted her hands away and got a huff and a glare from her.
"Do you really want me to stop?" He held himself still. "If you want me to, I will."
It would kill him.
That might sound silly, but he felt it. Just being near Noelle and having her lean into him had created a craving that he had never experienced before.
A need to protect and care for her in a way that he felt he was protecting his future...
His family.
"No."
Her answer confused him. He'd forgotten what he'd asked her.
"I don't want you to stop."
There.
He smiled.
"Okay, baby." He let go of the hem of her shirt and slid his hands underneath. "We'll do this in stages. It'll let me get under your skin."
Her shirt moved with his hands and he exposed the tender skin of her belly.
Those stretch marks that she was uncomfortable with?
He traced a few with his fingertips, the tip of his nose, and his tongue.
She moved under him, one hand flung out to grasp the sheets, her other hand grasping at his hair.
Moving his hands up, the hem of the shirt rode his wrists and then his forearms.
He knew the moment she felt his fingertip touch her nipples.
Her eyes widened, flaring open.
Her lips parted and she sucked in a hard breath.
Her back arched, pushing her nipples against his eager fingers.
He rolled her nipples and her hips raised pushing against his chest.
So beautiful.
So... responsive.
Noelle let go of the sheets at her side and brought that hand to his head
She had a crazy grip on his hair that only tightened when he raised her shirt over her breasts and pulled one tightened nipple into his mouth.
Duval felt her move, felt her hitch one leg up and over his thigh before dragging it up to his waist.
Shit.
How had he forgotten?
Reaching out a hand he grabbed the condom wrapper and broke what had to be his land speed record for opening it and sliding it down his dick.
The edges of his vision darkened for a second as his hand stroked the length and breadth of it.
"Ahh, baby... I don't know if I can do this."
With her leg already hooked around him, he thought he had her pinned down.
Well, she surprised him.
Switching places, she rolled him on to his back, almost tangling them up at the same time.
He gathered what wits he had left and lined himself up under her.
Noelle didn't make him wait.
She sank down on him, taking him into her body in one slow, welcoming slide.
Before she'd reached the end of him, he was barely able to breathe.
"Daaamn." "Yes..."
He looked up at her and wondered if he'd ever seen such a beautiful sight.
Her eyes were darker than he remembered.
The hunger in them was mixed with something that made him feel like he was looking in some kind of mirror.
Then, in a moment he'd never forget, Noelle reached down, grasped the hem of her tank top and pulled it up and off, dropping it from her hand to the floor, somewhere off the side of the bed.
He pulled her down.
One hand on her back the other around her neck.
He pulled her down so he could taste those sweet brown sugar lips.
The moment she opened her lips to tangle their tongues together. He lost all semblance of control.
He made her his... and then some.