Chapter 12
NOELLE
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone this much.
Actually, strike that. I’m sure I haven’t.
I’ve never felt this desperate to have a man inside me, stretching me in the most delicious of ways.
I’ve never wanted to feel a man’s bare skin against mine this badly.
And I’ve never, ever wanted to see a man naked like this. Like all my Christmases and birthdays rolled into one; the gift the reveal of Webb’s body in all its muscly glory.
Because I’m sure his body is amazing. I’ve felt the hard planes and ridges of his abs, the bulge of his biceps, and the breadth of his shoulders.
I’ve grazed my fingers across the light fuzz of hair on his chest and the golden dusting of it on his legs.
Our bodies have been pressed together so closely, I could feel his heart beating against mine.
But I haven’t seen him naked. And I want to. Very much.
I want to take him in my hand, stroking his hot, velvety skin until he’s slick with arousal.
I want to taste the salt on his skin while I nuzzle his neck.
I want to kiss my way down his chest and abs, just as he promised to do to me.
And I—
Oh.
My core clenches as Webb lowers his head between my legs and strokes his tongue across my sensitized skin. Then he uses his fingers to expose the little bundle of nerves there before pulling it between his lips.
My belly tightens.
My thighs quiver.
Another swipe of his tongue brings a rush of wetness as my body instinctively readies itself for him.
Pausing, Webb adjusts my legs so they’re draped over his shoulders, spreading me wider for him.
Then he just looks at me, his gaze dark with desire, his eyes darkening to a deep and stormy blue.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he says once he’s taken his fill.
“So damn gorgeous, Noelle. I could look at you for hours.”
His voice is deeper than usual, setting off flutters in my stomach.
One thick finger sinks inside me, then pumps in and out slowly. My inner muscles squeeze around it, convulsing with need.
Webb dips his head again to kiss me in the most intimate of places. While he caresses me with his tongue, he adds a second finger to the first, using the slickness of my excitement to sink even deeper.
Once he’s as far as he can go, he curls his fingers just so, setting off an explosion of sparks deep inside me.
My head falls back as I gasp, “Webb. Oh—”
He pulls my bud into his mouth again, sucking hard this time. Then he puts his hand on my ass, pulling me closer to him.
As his mouth and fingers work their wicked magic, need coils deep inside me. My skin is on fire. My lungs don’t want to work.
All the things I used to worry about in the past—was my stomach pooching out, should I have done more grooming, were the sounds I was making normal—are of no concern.
Not this time. Not with Webb.
“So gorgeous,” he murmurs, his breath warm on my skin. “So damn gorgeous.” The possessive look in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. “I love feeling you respond to me. Feeling how wet you are. How tight.”
I can feel my cheeks warming at his words. Though I’ve never been much of a talker during sex, I find myself saying in a throaty voice that barely sounds like my own, “I love feeling you inside me. And your mouth…”
“My mouth?” That smirk comes back. “What do you like about my mouth?”
While he waits for me to answer, his fingers keep pumping in and out. His thumb rubs at my exposed bud, faster and faster, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
“I love it when you kiss me,” I reply. “And the way you use your tongue…”
“Oh?” His eyebrows arch up. “What do you want me to do with my tongue?”
“I—” The words get stuck as embarrassment sweeps through me. I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed to say what I like, not when I’m a full-grown adult, but something stops me. “I—”
Understanding softens Webb’s expression. “You can tell me,” he says. “Anything, Noelle. You can tell me anything. Don’t be embarrassed to tell me what you like. I want to know so I can make you feel good.”
After a quick inner debate, I whisper, “I like it when you do that stroking thing. With your tongue. It feels really…”
“Like this?” He swipes his tongue between my legs, then looks back up at me.
My breath quickens. “Yes. Like that. And when you use your fingers, too…”
A smile stretches across his handsome face. “Okay. I can do that.”
And a moment later, he does.
Holding me close to his face, he devours me, his mouth and tongue making me feel things I’ve never experienced before.
I know I should feel bad, letting Webb do all the work while I just lay back and enjoy it.
But through the fog of desire, I can’t bring myself to do anything about it. The sensations overwhelm everything.
“Webb,” I moan when he curls his fingers inside me again. “Oh… God, that feels amazing.”
He tweaks my sensitive bud, then says, “Good. Are you close?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
His hand splays across my ass, holding me firm. “I want to feel you come. On my mouth. My fingers. I want to taste your sweetness.”
Oh. My.
I never knew words could be this sexy.
The flames licking inside me build to a fever pitch.
Webb pulls his fingers almost completely out, then plunges deep again.
His mouth works its magic.
And then, in a supernova of heat and energy, I explode.
All the muscles in my body draw up tight, from my fingers to my toes.
I let out a low, guttural sound I’ve never heard myself make before.
White lights dance across my vision.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I come back to myself again. When I finally open my eyes, I find Webb braced above me, watching me intently. He caresses my cheek, then asks, “Was that good for you, Noelle?”
It’s such a ridiculous question I snort with laughter before I can stop myself. “Good? Are you kidding me?”
His features pinch with worry. “It wasn’t?”
“It was,” I correct. “It was so far beyond good, I don’t have words to describe it.”
The worried lines on his face smooth out. “Okay. I thought so, but I wanted to make sure.”
Glancing at myself, I realize I’m completely naked—when did my bra disappear, I wonder—while Webb is still fully dressed. “There’s one problem, though,” I tell him.
“What?”
“Your clothes,” I reply, gesturing at his shirt and pants. “You’re wearing far too much. I want to see you naked. And then—” I take a steadying breath for courage. “I want to feel you inside me. Not just your fingers and your tongue. All of you.”
“You want me naked?” he asks. “And you want me inside you?”
I nod. “Yes. Unless you don’t—”
“Noelle.” He silences me with a kiss. “That’s so far from the truth, it doesn’t bear saying. I absolutely want to. Now.” Rising to his feet, he yanks off his shirt and tosses it to the side. “Let me see about the naked thing, first.”
While he works at his pants, I stare shamelessly at Webb’s chest, cataloging his perfect muscles—not huge like a bodybuilder, but definitely ripped—and the brush of golden hair across it.
On one pec he has a tattoo of twin arrows crossing over a blade, which is the logo for Blade and Arrow.
On the other is what looks like a centaur holding a blade aloft, which I know from my research is the insignia for the Night Stalkers.
Webb catches me staring and asks with a smile, “Do you like what you see?”
Dry-mouthed, I nod. “Yes. Very much.”
Then my gaze dips below his waist, and all coherent thought flies out of my head.
“Oh,” I breathe. “Um.”
Webb removes his wallet from his discarded pants and pulls out a condom from inside it. Then he lowers himself back onto the blanket and braces himself above me. “We’ll be a perfect fit.” His lips trail across my collarbone, leaving a searing line of kisses behind. “I’ll make sure of it.”
And because I trust him, and my body is aching with a need verging on pain, I nod. “I know you will.”
“First,” he says, “I remember saying something about kissing you all over.”
My core squeezes at the memory of his kisses there. “I think you already did that.”
Heat flares in his eyes. “I kissed you in some places. But definitely not everywhere.” Then he presses his lips to the tattoo I got when I graduated from college. “Like here.”
His mouth moves to the little quartet of freckles just below my right breast. “And here.”
Then he kisses the tiny scar above my belly button from the ill-fated piercing I got when I was eighteen. “And here.”
Goosebumps erupt across my body. “I love that,” I murmur. “It’s ticklish. But in the best way.”
His breath feathers across my stomach. “Good.”
I look at his erection, thick and hard and jutting eagerly towards me. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroke my fingers along his heated skin. “Do you like this?”
Webb sucks in a breath. His arousal jerks in my hand. “Yes.” His pupils dilate so his eyes are nearly black. “I love it.”
“Good.” I stroke him again. “I want to make you feel as amazing as you did for me.”
Webb takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at it before releasing it with a little pop. “I do. I will.”
And for the next few minutes—hours?—we both do our best. Webb follows through on his promise to kiss me all over, while I take the time to learn how he likes to be touched—how much pressure to use and the motions he likes the most.
Finally, when the need to feel him inside me is unbearable, I grab the condom and start fumbling with the wrapper. Webb lifts his head from my breast and smiles when he realizes what I’m doing. “Do you need help?”
I thrust the condom at him in frustration. “It won’t open.”
His smile widens. “I can help with that.”
Then he rips the wrapper open with his teeth, removes the condom, and rolls it over himself. Once he’s sheathed, he notches himself at my center. But rather than plunging deep inside me, like my body is craving, he just holds himself still for a second.