Chapter 8
Chiara
Noah’s lips are unbelievably tender as he trails kisses down my body, removing pieces of clothing as he goes.
Each touch is slow. Intentional.
Like he’s memorizing me.
The dress gets pulled away, and he tosses it somewhere on the floor. But I’m far too distracted to care about that.
He notices my pale blue panties and cami—something I absolutely bought with him in mind—and oh yeah, he likes them.
Then his hands move higher, lower, tracing my sides, pausing at my waist before sliding back up again.
Every brush of his mouth leaves warmth behind, and my skin feels hypersensitive, alive in a way I’ve never quite experienced before.
By the time he kneels between my legs, I’m completely naked.
And he’s still fully dressed.
I push myself up onto my elbows, suddenly very aware of the position I’m in—spread out across his bed, completely exposed beneath the steady, heated gaze of Noah Walker.
He’s staring at me.
Not casually.
Not like a man who just got lucky.
His intense blue eyes move slowly over my body, like his gaze itself is a touch.
Reverent.
Hungry.
My breath catches.
“Noah?”
Even to my own ears, my voice sounds uncertain. Soft.
There’s a question in it.
A hundred questions, really.
I’ve had sex before.
I’m not inexperienced.
But Noah… Noah is something else entirely.
He’s larger than life in every way. Bigger emotions. Bigger presence. Bigger energy.
And suddenly the thought hits me like a wave—what if I’ve made a mistake?
What if this moment shatters the careful control I’ve worked so hard to keep over my life?
Because if he stands up right now?
If he changes his mind?
If he just walks away?
I think it might actually destroy me.
But he doesn’t move away.
Not even a little.
Instead, his gaze lifts to meet mine, and something in his expression softens.
“Chiara,” he says quietly.
Just hearing my name in that deep voice makes my pulse jump.
He reaches out slowly, one large hand settling against my thigh.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“I’m not,” I lie immediately.
The corner of his mouth curves slightly.
“Bit nervous?”
“Maybe.”
He leans forward then, closing the space between us in a single decisive movement that steals the breath right out of my lungs.
His mouth captures mine again, deeper this time.
More certain.
Like the hesitation between us just snapped.
The kiss sends heat rushing through me, bright and dizzying. Then his hand slides down my chest, pausing briefly on my breast. Noah traces and slides his hot palm over my nipple and I arch into him, needing more.
He doesn’t give it—not yet. The tease.
He nips my lip between his teeth, eyes on mine as his hand moves to my hip, my inner thigh—I gasp softly against his lips.
He doesn’t rush.
But he doesn’t hesitate either.
Every movement feels deliberate, confident in a way that makes my heart race faster.
Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
And exactly what I need.
My fingers curl into his shirt as the moment builds. His fingers are circling the sensitive skin around my sex.
Next, he’s tracing my trimmed curls, around and around, the tension between us growing thicker with every second.
The weight of his body shifts as he lifts to the side, moving his hand higher and higher.
“You need something, Love? Need me here,” he whispers, and one finger coasts along my seam.
I gasp. My body arches as much as it can.
Because the answer is yes.
I need something. I need him. Right there.
“Please,” I beg and I don’t even care.
All I know is the way my skin tingles wherever he touches.
The way my breath keeps catching.
The way the room suddenly feels smaller, warmer, filled with nothing but the two of us.
I drop my knees, spreading my legs wider, and Noah groans, his fingers sliding closer to where I want him.
“You’re so hot, Love. So fucking wet,” he growls as he slides two fingers inside of me.
“Noah,” I moan his name.
And this time it isn’t uncertainty.
It’s anticipation.
Because the way he’s looking at me now—while finger fucking me in his dimly lit bedroom—it’s like I’m the most important thing in the world.
It makes something inside my chest bloom wide open.
And when he slides down my body and clamps his mouth right over my needy little clit, sucking hard while he pumps his hand inside of me—so decisive and sure—the sensation is so overwhelming, that’s all it takes before I’m seeing stars.
And I wonder how I will ever get over this one night with Noah.