Chapter 9
Noah
Feeling Chiara’s orgasm ripple through her with my mouth on her sweet clit and my fingers buried in her hot little pussy is almost my undoing.
But thank fuck for control.
My girl is still shivering when I pull my shirt over my head and kick the rest of my clothes off, tossing them somewhere behind me without a second thought.
The room is quiet except for our breathing.
For a second I just look at her.
Chiara sprawled across my bed, hair fanned out across the pillow, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with nerves and excitement all tangled together.
And the fact that she’s here?
That she chose this—finally chose me—still feels unreal.
I reach over to the nightstand and grab the condom, tearing the foil open quickly before rolling it on, my focus already drifting back to her.
Because Christ.
She’s beautiful.
Not just pretty.
Not just sexy.
Beautiful in a way that knocks the breath right out of my chest.
I crawl back onto the bed, lowering myself over her slowly, letting my mouth find her skin again.
I start low, pressing a kiss just above the soft curve of her hip.
Then another.
Then another.
My tongue traces a warm path up her soft stomach, across the gentle rise of her curvy little body, savoring every second of it.
She gasps softly when I reach her collarbone.
Her fingers slide into my hair, gripping lightly.
I finally settle between her legs, bracing my weight on my forearms so I don’t crush her.
“You good, Love?” I murmur against her throat.
She turns her face toward mine, eyes dark and shining.
“Please, Noah. I want you,” she whispers, her hands tugging impatiently at my hips.
The sound of my name on her lips nearly undoes me.
She is so damn beautiful it steals every coherent thought out of my head.
Every plan.
Every bit of patience.
All that’s left is the way her body feels beneath mine.
Warm.
Soft.
Real.
And the fact that she wants me?
That she’s looking at me like I’m the one she chose tonight?
It hits deeper than I expected.
Better than the day I made the team.
Better than the roar of a stadium when we score.
Better than the win tonight.
Because those things matter.
But this?
This feels like something bigger.
I cup her cheek gently, brushing my thumb across her lips before kissing her again—slow this time, savoring the way she melts into me.
“Easy,” I murmur softly. “I got you.”
And I do.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
So, I hold on to that thought as I notch my hard as nails cock at her slick entrance and I start to push inside
Inch by inch, I fall into her slowly, savoring every second. I pause for a moment once I’m fully seated, forcing myself to breathe.
The heat of her surrounds me, tight and warm and real in a way that makes my head spin.
I brace my hands on either side of her shoulders, watching her face carefully, making sure she’s alright.
I know I’m a big man—that’s not ego talking, just the truth of it. Years of scrums and tackles built this body, and Chiara? She’s smaller, softer.
I don’t want to rush this and risk hurting her.
“You’re so big,” she murmurs, and closes her velvet brown eyes.
“And you’re so tight, Love. You feel like fucking heaven,” I whisper back and kiss her softly.
Her lashes flutter open as I raise my head and her wide brown eyes find mine.
“Noah, please.”
I tilt my head slightly, brushing a loose curl away from her cheek.
“Please what, Love?”
“I need you to move,” she breathes, her voice shaky with emotion as her hands slide up my back.
Then she shifts beneath me—just enough to remind me exactly how much she wants this.
And that’s when the grin spreads across my face.
My little Chiara isn’t fragile.
Not in the way I feared.
No.
She’s fierce.
A wildcat hiding behind that calm professional mask she wears at the facility every day.
And the way she arches into me now proves it.
Slowly, I start to move.
Careful at first, letting the rhythm build naturally between us. Each motion draws a soft gasp from her lips, her fingers tightening against my shoulders as she adjusts to me.
“Like that?” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She nods quickly, breath catching.
“Yeah, oh God, yes, just like that.”
The tension that’s been building between us for months finally breaks open in that moment.
Every glance across the gym.
Every sarcastic comment.
Every stubborn refusal to admit what we both wanted.
It’s all here now, in the way she looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters.
And the truth hits me hard.
This woman is mine.
Not for one night.
Not for one passing embrace.
This means more than that. We mean more than that.
I just have to prove it to her.
And I will.
Starting here.
With this.
So I hold her closer, letting the pace deepen naturally as we find our rhythm together, the world shrinking down to nothing but the quiet room, the sound of our breathing, and the undeniable connection we’ve both been fighting for far too long.
I pick up the pace, pounding into her now. No more slow swivel and grind. This is hotter now. Heavier.
Her short nails clutch at my shoulders as her pussy starts to squeeze me.
“Noah!”
I groan as she shouts my name, reveling in the feel of her orgasm clenching around me, pulling me under her spell.
But I’m not done with her yet.
I watch every emotion as it passes across her face from ecstasy to wonder.
Our mouths crash together and I kiss her long and deep, slowing my pace to echo our kiss.
Then I roll us so she’s on top of me.
“Mm, I-I’m not good at this,” she whispers against my lips, dropping her gaze.
“That’s right, Love. You’re not good at this, you’re fucking perfect at it. Now ride me,” I murmur and lick into her mouth, not allowing her to shrink from this moment.
I don’t know who fed her that line of bullshit about not being good at sex because my Chiara is a fucking goddess.
Her hot little pussy feels so good massaging my cock, squeezing me just right. She’s so fucking wet. So soft. Tight.
I swear to God, I’m addicted.
Ruined for anyone else.
Which is fine with me because all I want is her.
My hands find her wonderfully plump arse, and I hold on to it as I bounce her up and down.
“That’s it, Love. You feel so good like this.”
More words of praise pour from my lips, I can’t help it.
She is stunning.
And when she takes the reins—her small hands flat on my chest, breasts bouncing with every move she makes, head tossed back like the goddess she is as she rides me—I know I’m not going to last.
“Oh my God, I’m gonna come,” she moans, and thank fuck, because I am too.
And I’m never coming with anyone else ever again.