17. Mia
Chapter seventeen
Mia
H is words echo in my mind as our lips meet again. There’s a sudden fire between us, an intensity that I wasn’t expecting. What in the world is wrong with me? There is something about this man. I can’t get enough of him.
I pull away, breaking the kiss and leaving us both breathless. “I want you.”
His eyes blaze at my admission, surprise flickering across his face before settling into a slow smile. His hands rest gently on my waist. “I want you too, Mia,” he says softly.
He backs me up with his mouth on mine until I trip over the mattress on the floor. I lose my balance and fall backward with him following me down.
We burst into laughter, but it quickly dies when I feel his erection pushing against my thigh.
His eyes meet mine, a question in them. Without breaking our gaze, I nod my consent. His hand slips under the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my stomach, sending waves of shivering anticipation through me. He breaks away to remove my shirt and then his own, revealing a chest dusted with thick, dark hair that trails down, disappearing below his waistband.
I reach out and run my hand over his hard muscles. With daylight pouring through the window, I’m able to get a very good view of the man. I like what I see. His muscles ripple under my touch, but he doesn’t move. He lets me take my time enjoying him. His skin feels warm, a stark contrast against the icy chill outside. I feel the thumping pulse under his skin, a steady beat that vibrates through my fingertips. His heart is racing just as fast as mine, if not faster.
I trail soft kisses down his neck, earning a groan of satisfaction from him. He arches into my touch, a reaction that sends a thrill of pleasure through me. I want to taste him—every last hot inch. I trail my fingertips up his flat stomach and move my mouth over his hard chest.
His breathing grows ragged as I reach for the button on his jeans. Our eyes meet, and a surge of anticipation passes between us. He lifts his hips, allowing me to slide the denim down his muscular legs, revealing the length of him. I take a moment to appreciate the sight before leaning forward to kiss his stomach softly.
Noah’s hands sift through my hair, cradling my head gently. His breath hitches as I move lower, my lips trailing a path of fire down his body. His fingers tighten against my scalp, and he murmurs my name—a sigh carried away by the wind outside.
I can feel my own desire building steadily as I continue to explore him. Every groan and gasp from Noah urges me on, making me want him more and more. It’s intoxicating.
I slide my body down lower, pulling his boxers down with me, giving me better access. As he lays exposed before me, I can see the full effect I have on him. His arousal is evident, his chest heaving with each rapid breath. His eyes are locked on me, watching in anticipation as I move closer to his thick cock. I feel in control. I have the power. There is no threat. It’s all mutual ecstasy. I love that I can do this to him: turn this big, strong man into a gasping pool of need.
I lean in, brushing my lips against his hip bones, making him gasp and arch. I move lower, taking him in my mouth inch by delicious inch. His breath hitches as I tease him with my tongue, moving at a tempo designed to drive him wild.
Suddenly, he pulls me up toward him, flipping us over so that he’s on top of me. He’s fast, like lightning. It takes me by surprise, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. Our breaths synchronize. His heavy inhales match my shaky exhales and vice versa—two bodies tangled together, sharing the same rhythm.
He kisses me; the desperation is obvious. His hands are rough against my skin as he pulls off my jeans and cups my breasts. The cold air makes me gasp, but his body against mine chases away the chill. The feel of his strong arms keeps me grounded. The warmth of his bare skin against mine elicited something deep within me. Heat blooms low in my belly.
The tender way he takes off my bra makes my heart flutter and fills the room with intense anticipation. I love how gentle he can be one second and then wild and passionate the next.
He places soft kisses down my neck and chest and then nips and tugs, pulling a shocked gasp from me. He tastes every inch of my body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. My body is incandescent, his touch coaxing me higher with every brush of his lips.
His hand moves between my legs, his fingers sliding over the sensitive skin there. My skin ignites in a rush of desire that makes me arch toward him.
“Noah,” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper. He looks at me, his eyes dark and filled with a wellspring of unspoken emotions. There’s an intensity in them that steals my breath away.
His lips curve into a half-smile as he kisses me again, softer this time as if he is trying to soothe the wildfire he started within me. But it’s too late. The flames have already been stoked, and they won’t be tamed.
He moves over me, tracing the contours of my body with his tongue. The sensation is electrifying, making me moan softly. His hand finds its way to my breast, massaging it gently before taking the hardened nipple into his mouth. I can feel myself spiraling into an abyss of pleasure that only Noah can create. He pushes a finger inside me. The onslaught of sensations overwhelms me.
“That’s it,” he whispers against my breast. “Let go. ”
His fingers press deeper while his mouth trails a path back to my lips. I submit to his ministrations, closing my eyes and letting out a soft moan. The passion building between us is intense, almost unbearable. His strokes become faster, more insistent. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
With my hands in his hair, I deepen the kiss, our lips meeting in a clash of passion and desire. He responds immediately, pressing his body closer against mine. Our movements are no longer gentle or tentative; they’re fierce and demanding.
Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving me panting with desire. “I need to be inside you,” he pants, his voice husky and filled with longing. Despite the heat radiating off him, he doesn’t rush.
He pushes my legs open and moves his body over mine. I look into his eyes, holding his gaze as he enters me slowly—carefully. A wave of pleasure sweeps over me as he moves with a slow rhythm that sends sparks zinging through every nerve. Our bodies move together guided by instinct and need, passion igniting into an inferno that consumes us both. Every stroke draws out a loud moan of unadulterated pleasure. The man knows exactly where to touch me to give me the most pleasure. We have known each other for a day, and it is like he memorized my body. No other man in my life has ever given me this much attention.
I tilt my head back, losing myself in the sensations. I can feel him tense above me, his body straining for release. His pace quickens slightly, becoming more erratic as he nears the brink. His body trembles, and I run my hand over his back to quiet him.
“I can’t hold back.” His words are strained as if he’s fighting against the inevitable. Seeing him so uncontrolled is the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
We reach climax together, a crescendo of pleasure coursing through us both, shattering silence with raw cries of ecstasy. My head is spinning, and I’m left shaken after the powerful orgasm. We lay spent, bodies entwined and limbs heavy with satisfaction. I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.
Noah pulls me close, cradling me against his chest. He kisses the side of my face. “I’m going to get a fire going,” he says and hops up.
I roll away, frustration overwhelming me. I pull my sweater over my head, feeling the rough wool scratch against my skin. My hair falls into my eyes. I brush it away impatiently. “We really should stop doing that,” I say, trying to sound firm.
Noah laughs, a low, rumbling sound that seems to echo in my belly. “Why?” he asks, his voice playful. “If you don’t want me, then don’t wake me up in the middle of the night asking for it. Don’t tell me you want me and kiss me.”
I feel a flush of heat rise to my cheeks. “That’s not fair,” I retort, fumbling with the buttons on my jeans. “This is just a fling because we’re stuck together.”
He nods, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I agree. You’re not my type anyway.”
His words sting more than I care to admit. “Oh really? And what exactly is your type?” I snap, trying to keep my voice steady.
He shrugs, pulling on his shirt. “Does it matter?”
“No, it doesn’t,” I say quickly, too quickly. “Because you’re not my type either.”
“Good,” he says casually. Then, as if an afterthought, he asks, “Are you on the pill? We’ve been pretty careless.”
I hesitate, my mind racing. “I get a shot,” I say, trying to sound confident. “We’re fine. ”
In the back of my mind, a small voice reminds me of my last visit to the doctor. I try to remember if I got my shot before heading to Florida three months ago. The memory is fuzzy, tangled with images of my time in South America. But I dismiss the worry. My doctor said it would take a while for my body to level out. I’m fine.
Noah looks at me, his expression suddenly serious. “I have to tell you something, but I don’t want you to panic.”
My heart skips a beat. “What is it?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.