Chapter 21 #2
Something in me snaps. My other hand slides to the back of her neck, drawing her into me as our mouths collide in a hot, bruising kiss. She moans against me, and when my tongue presses at the seam of her lips, she opens without hesitation. Just like the beach.
My hand glides over the swell of her breast, my thumb brushing over her nipple once, then again. I still abruptly. “What’s that?”
“It’s a piercing.”
I blink. “Your nipples are pierced?”
“Yes.”
My voice drops. “Can I see?”
She slips her fingers into the cup of her bra and draws it down, revealing the small silver barbells against her skin.
“Can I touch it?”
She nods. “Yes.”
I run my thumb lightly over the peak, and her breath hitches.
“They’re sensitive,” she murmurs.
I do it again, slower this time, and her eyes flutter closed.
“Miles.”
My name off her lips is soft, breathless, and hits me straight in the chest. Then a thought cuts through me. Someone else touched her. To pierce her. My jaw tightens.
“What’s with the look? Does it turn you off?”
“No. I just… got hit with a wave of jealousy.” I meet her gaze. “That someone else touched you.”
Her lips curve into a slow smile. “If it helps, it was strictly business. Very professional.”
I shake my head. Still not better.
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “Then how about this: right now, you’re the only one I want touching me. Lick them. Suck them into your mouth and swirl your tongue over the barbells.”
Words. Clear instructions. She’s telling me exactly what she wants.
I bend down, press my lips to the swell of her breast, taking my time as I work my way inward. When I finally draw her nipple into my mouth, her hands slide into my hair, nails scraping my scalp as her breath breaks into a soft moan.
“Am I making you hard?”
“Yes.” The word comes out rougher than I intend.
She grips my chin and tilts my face up to hers. Her breath ghosts across my lips. “How hard is your cock?”
I swallow. There’s no point in pretending. “I’m straining against the zipper.” I groan against her skin, and she shivers like she enjoys hearing what she does to me.
“Tell me,” she murmurs, her mouth brushing my jaw. “Don’t be shy. You can use the word cock. This is dirty talk.”
My hands tighten at her waist, pulse pounding. I’ve never done this—never been with a woman who asks for words type of words. But this is what she wants, and that matters more than my nerves.
“Nora,” I manage, my voice unsteady, “my cock is so hard for you.”
She presses her lips to mine in a kiss that’s almost innocent… almost. “Good,” she whispers, sounding pleased with herself. Then she leans in, breath warm. “You’re making me so fucking wet.”
Heat floods my body instantly.
“Want to feel how badly?” she asks.
“Y-yes.”
She catches my wrist, guiding my hand down with calm assurance. My brain blanks—in the best way—right up until my fingers brush the waistband of her leggings, and reality snaps back hard.
“Wait.” I pull my hand away as if I’ve touched a live wire.
She stills. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. But—” I wince. “I was building a model plane earlier. I have glue on my fingers. I just… I want to wash my hands.”
She studies me for a beat. Then her mouth curves upward, amused and wicked. “You want to wash your hands before touching me?”
“Yes,” I admit, caught between embarrassment and a desperate need to get this right. “I’m pretty sure I just ruined the mood.”
Her smile brightens. “No. Actually, for some strange reason, that turns me on even more.”
I blink. “It does?”
“Miles,” she murmurs, fisting the front of my shirt and tugging me close. “Go wash your hands.” Before I can move, she kisses me hard, like a promise. Then she pulls away. “I’ll be here. Waiting.”
I don’t walk to the bathroom. I sprint. With the faucet running, I scrub as if my life depends on it—twenty seconds, then thirty—because apparently, I’m a man with standards who’s deeply afraid of disappointing her.
I dry my hands and hurry back, afraid she might change her mind and leave.
When I step into my office, Nora is exactly where I left her, back against the wall, eyes on me, expression calm, like she hasn’t just set every nerve in my body on fire.
“Come here.” She curls a finger at me.
I’m barely within arm’s reach before she grabs my shirt and pulls me in, crashing her mouth to mine. Her hand finds mine, guiding it with quiet authority from her waist and lower, showing me exactly where she wants me.
I break the kiss just long enough to breathe. “Nora…”
“Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me,” she whispers. Her voice is pure permission and absolute certainty.
I follow her directions. She guides my hand beneath the waistband of her leggings and then her underwear.
My fingers brush against a small patch of hair before two fingers slide down her slit.
Her arousal coats me. With her hand over mine, she moves me up and down.
It’s slow and careful at first. Then her breath catches, and her nails bite lightly into my shoulder.
“Oh. Yeah,” she murmurs, her voice unsteady. “Keep going.”
She releases my hand, and I continue doing exactly what she showed me, because I want this to be right. And when she tips her head back, eyes closing, lips parting on my name, something in me goes wild. I want her. Whatever she’ll give me.
“Don’t stop.” The words fall off her lips in one quick breath.
“I won’t.” I kiss her cheek and down to her jaw.
“Oh, Miles. That feels so good. Fuck me with two fingers.”
Using the wall for leverage, she lifts her leg over my hip. I catch it with my free hand, holding her steady, opening her to me. I find her entrance and slide two fingers inside her wet heat.
She moans. “Now—just like that. In and out.”
I do exactly what she asks.
“Oh—fuck,” she breathes. “More. Harder. Faster.”
I throb behind my zipper. I’ve never been this turned on before. I want to stay right here, stretch this out, not let it spiral the way it did at Black Beach. But she moves against my hand, chasing the sensation, and I’m not sure how long I can keep control.
“How does that feel?” I whisper against the shell of her ear.
“Mmm. So good. Tell me how it feels for you.”
I lick my lips, my nerves getting to me. I want to make sure I say the right thing. “I like hearing you moan my name.”
“I like saying it. Miles.”
I jerk in my pants. Needing a distraction to stop thinking about how much I want her, I bend down and wrap my lips around her nipple, swirling my tongue over her piercing.
“Ah! Fuck. Miles. I’m going to—” She clenches around my fingers and moans out my name. Her head falls back against the wall, her chest heaving. Slowly, her eyes drift open, and I slide my hand from between her legs.
She nibbles on her bottom lip for a second before asking, “Have you tasted a woman before?”
I shake my head.
“Taste me. Put your fingers in your mouth.”
I lift my fingertips to my lips, slide them onto my tongue, and suck. The flavor hits—sweet and salty, unfamiliar and intoxicating. Exotic. Something I immediately want more of.
“Can I… can I go down on you?”