35. Queenie
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
QUEENIE
RECOMMENDED LISTENING ‘HEAVEN OR LAS VEGAS’ BY COCTEAU TWINS
“That’s number two,” he says, a heavy second later. “Eight more to go.”
“ Noah !” I groan-growl at him. Pushing my hips into his lax hand. He takes his hand out.
I almost cry from thwarted orgasm.
Noah tears off a condom packet. “I want to feel number three on my cock. I’m going to die if I don’t.”
I snatch it from him, but he snatches it back, the fiend. “You can do it the next time,” he breathes. “If you touch my cock now, woman, I’ll come all over your hand. Not happening.”
Finally, I relent and settle for biting his shoulder and neck while he groans and wears the protection. When he’s done, he grabs my chin and kisses me. Messy and soppy. Dominating.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“Consider it payment for stopping mid-way,” I say primly.
He holds my hands and draws them up. Then, twines them with his own fingers. And he says, “Open up.”
I raise my legs as high as they can go. He touches my inner thighs, squeezes it, and then pushes in. Slow. Inexorable. Inevitable.
Still my breath catches at what we’re doing. At how I’m reflected in his eyes. The glow from the lamp creates a pinprick effect in his eyes and I watch his pupils dilate as he goes in inch by inch.
I arch my back and take him in as best as I can.
We’re both panting by the time he settles in. And I’m taken by Noah Calvin Dumaine.
He’s solid and hard, a little more than I’m used to. But it’s probably his height. Genetics hold true everywhere.
“Stop thinking.” He sucks on my bottom lip. “I’m trying to fuck you here, woman.”
“Then do it,” I order him.
He surges all the way in, almost hitting my womb.
I go up a little on the couch from the movement. I hold him close. And feel him. His heaving, sweaty chest with the daisy tattoo. I press my fingers into the indents of his pelvis.
“I’m obsessed with these.” I clutch at his lower dimples.
“They’re yours.” He pumps into me. Shoving his knees up, pinning me in place. “Keep them.”
We crash into each other again. Our chests pressed together, in tandem. But this time, he grabs my breast and sucks on it as he pumps in.
I cry out in a thin scream at the pleasure pain of feeling him everywhere. His hand streaking up and down me. His legs caressing mine, holding me captive. And his cock taking me, and taking me…
He strokes in and out. In a measured rhythm. My eyes glaze over. He does it again. And kisses my shoulder. I dig my nails into his back, urging him on. Holding him close. His back ripples from my touches and torments. But he keeps the same measured strokes up. Over and over again. Pounding into me, unmaking me with each touch, each stroke.
I bite his shoulder again.
Noah laughs breathlessly. “You really are a hellcat, aren’t you?”
“I want to come,” I grit out.
“So eager.” He muses, breathless.
“Noah,” I whine.
“Say, please.” He throws my words back at me. This time, when he strokes in, he flexes his ass and it touches a deep place inside me, setting off a tiny explosion.
“Please,” I beg. “Please now. Please, please.”
His strokes turn rougher. He touches my shoulder and holds me in place. He kisses me and I kiss him back, feral and needy. Our tongues fucking each other even as our bodies do.
My climax begins in my toes. I draw them over the backs of his legs. His knees. Noah flexes in even more into me. I arch into his strokes, his fucking. Our middles hit each other with each move, and I hold him with both hands. Containing all his passion, his need, all this energy in my hands.
And finally, I come. A long, liquid wave of nothing and everything. Colors burst behind my eyes. Sounds turn into sights and the universe explodes within me. Sparking me with obsidian light. Perfect and rebellious and mine.
I kiss his shoulders. Even as I come.
He kisses my bruised lips as I clench him hard and ride out the shocks. My thighs trembling and falling into him.
When I’m done, I sigh out a breath. I open blurry eyes and try to smile at him. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.” Noah growls. He grabs my hips and squeezes me into him. “Again.”
I scream as he does it again. Once more. Stroke for stroke, beat for beat. Until I’m a writhing, quivering, messy mess under him. One made of desire and need and orgasms.
“I can’t,” I gasp as he makes me chase one more. One more. Rubbing my clit while systematically dismantling me inside out. I’m nerveless, limbless, made of sensation. “I’ll die.”
“You won’t. I promise.” The words are guttural, uncivilized. “For me. Please.”
Noah speaks into my ears, while he cups my sensitive nipples and peaks them again. Then he takes them both in his mouth and sucks. I clench around him while he hammers into me. Rough and unfettered.
I come again for him. And I die for him. Pouring wetly around him. Drowning in the scent and heat and throes of completion. Over and over in every cell of my awakened body.
And then I watch, through half-slitted eyes as my aftershocks prove too much for him. And he grunts into me one last time, before clutching my back, my leg. And he pours himself into me too.
I hold him close, wrapping him in my embrace as he gives me himself.
His head drops down on my shoulder when he’s done and says one word.
My name.
Queenie.
Queenie.
As if he can’t say anything else. As if nothing else matters.
In that moment, I fall a little bit in love with him.