CHAPTER 39 - Noah Black #2
Her back arches off the mattress when I suck harder than usual, and the moan that escapes her gives me permission to push further. My tongue circles her nipple, teeth grazing lightly, while my hand squeezes the other breast firmly.
I split my attention between them, my mouth alternating as I suck, bite, and lick.
My fingers slip back to her pussy, and when the heat welcomes me, a guttural grunt tears from my throat.
My cock throbs again and the urge to come crashes over me, but I hold back—I need so much more before I lose myself.
Noah moans something incoherent when I brush her clit with my thumb, and the sound wrecks me. I pull my mouth away from her breast, loving the sight of her swollen nipples and reddened skin, marked by hickeys.
I trail my tongue slowly down her abdomen until I reach her waist.
The scent of her arousal fills not just my nose but all my damn senses.
My mouth waters, and without asking permission or waiting, I descend on her. I growl the moment her taste hits my tongue, reminding me how delicious she is—how her pussy is my favorite drug.
Nothing is more delicious than tasting her pleasure, drowning in her flesh and her moans.
To the world, I’m Shadow. The man who’s paid to protect, but also to rip off heads, mutilate bodies, shatter skulls.
I’m more feared in Vegas than men who’ve lived in the underworld for years.
I created this reputation, molded my name, built this creature inside me knowing that one day everything I learned would serve to destroy the source of the hatred I carried for years.
But here, inside this house, in our room, I’m hers. Completely hers.
Noah has a power over me that no one ever has, and every breath she takes seems like a spell binding me tighter to her existence.
Her body was molded for me with such perfection it seems supernatural, and she’s everything I want in my life.
Every damn day of my existence, she’s the one I long for by my side.
“Ah…” she moans, and my tongue slides along, tracing the outline of her inner lips before licking every inch of the outer ones.
Only after savoring them do I wrap my lips around her clit—hard and throbbing—sucking eagerly. It pulses under my tongue, sensitive from her recent orgasm, but I don’t care. In fact, it excites me even more.
I suck, she cries out my name, and the sound makes my mouth work even harder.
One finger finds her entrance and slides in easily, sinking into the heat.
I smile, my mouth still pressed to her pussy, watching with ecstasy as her eyes widen at the invasion.
I let her see the pure desire in my eyes as I push her further, pulling everything from her, including all the restraints she keeps locked inside.
When Noah moans my name, I slide in another. She gasps again, thrusting her body forward, gripping my hair. By the third finger, I know she’s plummeting into a paradise of pleasure because her whole body starts to tremble.
“For the love…” she babbles, the words lost amid the moans escaping with them.
She seeks my fingers, my mouth, the orgasm, and I give her what she craves.
“Grab the pillow,” I order, and even in the fog of pleasure, she does what I ask. “Now bite it and scream as much as you want,” I instruct, knowing that if she doesn’t stop moaning so loud, the little one will wake up and interrupt what I’ve only just begun.
“Oh, God.” Her eyes go wide, looking at the door, realizing Sadie might hear us if she doesn’t quiet down. “Do you think…”
“Just shut the fuck up or I won’t keep eating you out,” I cut her off, and the dirty girl likes the command—she smiles wickedly before biting the pillow.
My mouth and fingers get back to work eagerly, and her pupils practically blow wide. Her blue irises are on fire, grunts escaping as she presses her mouth to the fabric.
“Bryan…” she murmurs, and the name dances between us seconds before hot liquid explodes from inside her and coats me.
Noah moans desperately as a hell of a squirt tears through her, the broken sounds surrounding me.
“Damn,” I curse, greedy, licking every drop, letting the liquid smear not just my mouth but my entire face.
Knowing she hit the peak of her orgasm almost makes me come like a damn teenager.
Her eyes roll back and her body convulses.
I keep drawing out everything, every last drop of pleasure.
“Stop, please, stop!” she babbles, pulling her body back, and I let her go even though I want more, like a damn addict.
I rise with a wicked smile, staring at her red lips, marked by how hard she bit them before grabbing the pillow. Her red hair is a mess, striking against the black sheets. Her chest rises and falls in an uneven rhythm, tired gasps escaping her lips.
Her freckles, my favorite part after her eyes, seem to have deepened with the flush spreading across her cheeks.
“I can't come anymore,” she manages to say, closing her eyes. “I don't think I can even walk.”
“Want to stop?” I ask, and she meets my gaze with a mixture of exhaustion and desire. “Or do you miss feeling my cock pulse inside you?”
“I want more,” she says, her voice hoarse, drawing a low laugh from me at the urgency of her response.
I pull away just enough to strip off my clothes at lightning speed. When I return, she's watching me, and the way she stares at my cock makes it twitch with need.
Noah seems to worship it, and that shit makes it even harder than it already is.
“We've never used condoms, and I don't have any here,” I warn, gripping my dick, feeling it pulse in my hand.
“It's fine. It's just you and me.” I lift the corner of my mouth.
Yes.