Chapter Eleven Noelle #2
Then his mouth returns, hungrier this time. He licks and sucks with steady devotion, fingers thrusting in a slow rhythm that matches his tongue. The pleasure builds heavier and hotter inside me.
My hips start moving against his face, and he moans in encouragement, gripping my thigh with his free hand to hold me steady.
The mix of emotions is dizzying. Relief that he is safe. Fear from how close it was. And now this intense, aching want.
I find him so incredibly hot on his knees, worshiping me like this, that it almost scares me how much I need it.
When the orgasm finally hits, it crashes through me hard. My back arches and my fingers tighten in his hair as waves of pleasure roll over me. Mateo keeps licking me gently through it, drawing it out, pressing tender kisses to my sensitive skin afterward like he does not want to stop.
Even as I come down, still breathing hard and trembling, he stays on his knees. He kisses my hips and stomach softly, like he is grounding both of us.
His hands run up the backs of my thighs, warm and steady. I look down at him and feel another wave of heat roll through me. The sight of Mateo Ruiz on his knees, lips shiny, eyes dark with want but still so full of that warm affection, makes something deep inside my chest tighten.
He finally rises, kissing his way up my body as he stands. His mouth lingers on my ribs, then my breasts, sucking gently on one nipple before moving to the other. Every kiss feels deliberate. Like he is mapping me. Like he wants me to feel exactly how much he wants this.
When he reaches my mouth again, he cups my face with both hands and looks at me. His eyes are intense yet gentle.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says quietly. “The way you looked at the scene. The way you care. Fuck, Noelle. I needed this. I needed you.”
He kisses me deeply again, letting me taste myself on his tongue. His hands slide down my body, peeling off the rest of my clothes until I am completely bare against him.
Then he works on his own, pushing his thermal shirt up and off, kicking his pants down. I run my hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart.
He lifts me easily, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my back against the wall. The position puts us face to face. He holds me there, one arm under my ass, the other hand cradling the back of my neck.
I feel completely held. Safe and wanted at the same time.
He lines himself up and slides into me slowly, inch by inch, until he is buried deep. We both groan at the feeling. He is thick and hot and perfect inside me. For a moment he just stays there, forehead pressed to mine, breathing with me.
“You feel incredible,” he whispers. “So tight. So warm. God, I love being inside you like this.”
Then he starts to move. Deep, rolling thrusts that press me harder into the wall.
Every stroke is steady and full. He keeps his eyes on mine the whole time, watching my face like he does not want to miss a single reaction.
His mouth stays busy too, kissing my lips, my jaw, my neck, and my shoulders while he fucks me.
I cling to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as pleasure builds again.
The relief from the call is still burning in my veins, mixing with the raw want I feel for him.
He feels so good. The way he holds me, the way he looks at me, the soft praise he keeps murmuring against my skin. It is almost too much.
“You are so perfect,” he says between thrusts, his voice rough. “I love the way you take me. The way you sound. I could stay buried in you forever.”
He shifts the angle slightly and hits a spot that makes my eyes flutter shut. One of his hands slides between us so his thumb can circle my clit. The added stimulation pushes me right to the edge again.
“Look at me,” he says softly. “I want to see you when you come.”
I open my eyes and meet his gaze. The intensity there, the warmth, the pure focus on me, sends me over.
My second orgasm hits even harder than the first. I tighten around him, gasping his name as pleasure floods through every part of me.
He keeps moving through it, thrusting deep and steady, drawing it out until I am shaking in his arms.
Only then does he let himself go. He buries his face in my neck, groaning my name as he comes hard inside me. His arms stay wrapped tight around me, holding me close like he never wants to let go.
We stay like that for a long moment. Still joined. Breathing together. The blizzard howls outside the small window, but in here it feels distant. For the first time since the call, my hands are completely steady.
Afterward, the room is very quiet.
Mateo leans back against the gear wall, eyes closed, and breathes. I straighten my jacket and look at the window and don’t say anything because there’s nothing to say that would be adequate, and we both seem to know it.
“You okay?” he asks eventually.
“Yes,” I say.
A beat.
“Were you scared?” he asks. Not about now. About the intersection.
I think about my hands shaking on the walk back.
“Yes,” I say again.
He opens his eyes and looks at me with the full warmth of him, unguarded and unhurried, and nods once like that’s exactly the right answer.
“Good,” he says quietly. “Me too.”
I look at him for a moment. Then I pick up my jacket from the floor and walk back out into the bay and don’t let myself think too hard about the fact that I feel steadier right now than I have since I got here.