Chapter 11 #3
I grip his shoulders for balance, nails digging in hard enough that I'm definitely going to leave marks, and I buck and shudder and grind against his fingers—I’m seconds from coming when he abruptly stops circling and drives his fingers back inside me, halting the topple into climax.
I cry out loud in frustration, but the wail of frustration quickly morphs into a scream of ecstasy when he plunges his fingers in and out of me, harder and faster, fucking me with them until I'm forced to collapse forward against him, panting shrill sharp wails as my climax burgeons and crashes through me like a tsunami.
And then he's circling my clit again, and the climax shatters me.
I scream, bury my face in his throat and scream—gyrate on him, grind against him, shuddering and writhing.
"Yes, Morgan!" Noah growls. "That's it, honey. Give it to me."
"NOAH!"
"Good girl, Morgan. Love the way you come, y'know that? So fucking sexy, hearing you scream my name.” He works my clit in slowing circles, plunges his fingers inside me a few times, circles again, dragging my climax to new heights, keeping me shaking and whimpering as wave after wave of intense bliss wracks my shuddering body.
"My god, Morgan. One more, sweetheart, give me one more. "
Another wrenching wave of orgasm has me helplessly, aggressively writhing against Noah, mouth shuddering against the side of his throat.
"God, that's so hot, Morgan," Noah rumbles. "Keep coming for me, sweetheart."
It's relentless, this orgasm. It wrenches me, wracks me with paroxysms of ecstasy so intense I have to fight for breath, helpless to do anything but buck and writhe on his lap, raking my nails across his shoulders and upper back.
At last, it starts to subside, leaving me shaken and shaking with shuddering aftershocks. I grip his wrists and pull them away. "No—no more, no more. I can't take anymore right now. Oh god. Oh—oh god. Noah. My god."
He slides his hands over my hips to cup my backside, loosely, affectionately. I sling my arms around his neck and breathe raggedly, each exhale a half-moan.
"Ohmigod…Noah!”
He rumbles a self-satisfied laugh. "You okay?"
I shake my head. "In the best possible way…no."
He presses his nose to my temple and inhales softly, quietly. "Morgan…the things I said to you—"
I cover his mouth with mine, tasting his words with his breath as I silence him with a kiss. "That was the hottest thing I've ever experienced in my life, Noah."
"I don't know what came over me. You asked me to talk to you and…" he shrugs. "I don't know."
"I really hope you aren't apologizing." I can feel tension in him, pull away and search his features. "Hey, you okay?" He's distraught. Visibly upset. I swing off him and kneel facing him from the side. "Hey…talk to me. Please?"
He lurches off the couch, jeans sagging to show the dark gray cotton of his boxer briefs. Pacing to the door-wall, he rakes his hands through his hair; his hands shake. "I—I'm sorry. Sorry. Not for—for what I said. Just for…for falling apart. Ruining—" a shake of his head, a choked exhale. "Fuck."
In the process of…all that…my thong has gotten twisted and bunched.
I hastily wriggle out of it and follow Noah across the room.
"Hey, hey, no." I wrap myself around him from behind, standing on my tiptoes to rest my chin on his shoulder.
"You haven't ruined anything. Just talk to me.
Please? You know you can tell me anything. "
He braces his hands on the glass and hangs his head. "That was so fucking hot, Morgan. You're sexy as hell and I…"
"You enjoyed it."
"More than I've enjoyed anything in a long, long time."
"And it feels like a betrayal," I guess.
"Yeah," he whispers. “Things with Taylor…" a pause. "I can be brutally blunt?"
"Yes, Noah. You can say anything to me. I promise I'll understand. Maybe not in the sense of having experienced it or anything like it, but…I'll understand."
"I have a lifetime of memories with her.
Good, bad, ugly, sexy, scary, sad, happy, weird, funny, tragic.
Our sex life was…healthy. Intense. We had fun.
We had regular sex. Good, often great sex.
" A long pause, a shaky exhale. "But my most recent memories of her are…
hard. Painful—really, really painful. I want to remember the good stuff, Morgan.
I want to remember…" he shakes his head.
"And now, with you, I'm having fun. I feel like myself again, and I haven't felt totally like myself in a long time.
Not since Taylor died. I haven't wanted…
I haven't felt…sexual. Only recently have I even really seen women as…
god, I don't know how to put it. I have eyes, y'know?
Like, even as a blissfully happy married man, I saw women—I noticed beautiful women.
But it was never sexual. It was more akin to seeing a beautiful sunrise or something.
You see and appreciate the beauty of it, but there's no sense of…
I dunno. Ownership? That's not the right word.
There was no desire. I never saw a sexy woman walk by and thought, ‘God, I'd really like to do X, Y, and Z,' y'know?
Only recently—since getting to know you, to be honest—have I even started thinking about women in that sense.
And it's confusing because I haven't felt that way since I was barely more than a kid. "
"I understand that more than you know. I didn't choose abstinence as a way of life, Noah.
It just kind of happened. I was too hurt, at first, by how Kevin treated me, and I was too busy taking care of Mallory and building a life for us.
And at some point, I just sort of…turned off, I guess.
That part of me just…shut down. I tried a couple times.
I went on dates, and I even kissed a guy.
But it was…I just couldn't…I didn't feel anything, mentally, emotionally, or physically. Until I met you."
He nods. "And now, with you, I feel alive again.
" He’s whispering so softly I have to lean closer to hear.
"Alive and…attractive, and…I feel desire again.
I feel need. I feel…a lot of things. And when you said you hadn't felt anything that sexy in your whole life, my first thought was ‘Me neither.’ ”
My heart twists in sympathetic understanding. “Oh, Noah."
"It's… on one hand, I want to say it's not true. She was…what we had was…” A shake of his head. "Some things I can't share, even with you."
"I get that and I respect it."
"But then also, with you I…I feel…" another head shake. “A fucking lot, and very intense."
I put my cheek to his back, press my front up against his spine, wrap my arms around his waist. "Noah, please, never feel like you have to hide or suppress or ignore what you feel, especially when it comes to Taylor.
Saying her name won't hurt me. Talking about how much you loved her won't hurt me.
I won't be upset or threatened to hear how happy you were with her, or how hot and healthy your sexual relationship with her was.
You don't have to shield that stuff from me.
I'm glad you had a wonderful marriage, and I'm so, so sorry you lost her the way you did.
" I kiss his shoulder blade. "But I also feel very grateful that I get to share these experiences with you.
You make me feel more alive than I ever have.
But it's not a competition. You don't have to feel that way.
It's different, Noah. It doesn’t have to be better or worse. "
"You're very wise, you know that?"
"Guess maybe I've earned a little bit of wisdom, after all the shit I've been through."
For a while, then, we stay like that—he braced against the glass, me hugging him from behind.
I let my hands explore his torso. Roam the hardness of his pecs, the hard plane of his abs, the angles of his hips, the rugged breadth of his shoulders. As my hands roam, the ragged edge of his breathing slows, softens. He breathes deeply, now.
"Feels good," he murmurs.
"Yeah?" I trail my nails down his chest and belly, then slip my fingertips under the waistband of his underwear. "Can I make you feel good, Noah?"
He swallows audibly. "I…"
"It's okay to want things for yourself, Noah. It's okay to feel things. It's okay to want to feel good." I nip his earlobe. Whisper breathily. "It's okay to let me give you pleasure, Noah. Like you did for me."
"Only if you…only if you want to."
"I do. I want to. I want to touch you. I want to make you feel good. As good as you made me feel."
He nods. "I want…." he shudders. "I want that. Please."