Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"

Автор книги: Megan Isaacs

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

HE MOVES AWAY a fraction, then keeping his gaze locked on mine, closes the last remaining space between us. My eyelids flutter closed at the brush of his lips. At first he’s gentle, soft, teasing, like in the club. Then he increases the heat, demanding more. I surrender under him, allowing him access. My hands find his shoulders, kneading into them, and then I trace his corded muscles down to his forearms.

His powerful hands skim my sides down to my thighs, and heat surges from my pores where his fingertips meet my bare skin. He touches me like he owns me. When his hands glide a trail upward, the hem of my dress catches on his fingers. He teases the hem up and over his hands but doesn’t move any further. Breaking our kiss, he pulls his face away from mine. It’s like he knows I’m finding it hard to breathe. I stare back at him as I let out a few panted breaths.

His broad chest surges and subsides, and I miss it pressed against me. “You sure you want to do this? Because if this dress goes any higher it’ll fucking kill me to stop.”

I purposely move my hands from his arms, trace across his hard chest and down his sculpted abs, stopping short of the tip of the impressive bulge in his jeans. With a single nail, I graze over the rounded head pushing against the denim. I find the sharp intake of breath he takes strangely satisfying. He unravels me. Yet at the same time he makes me feel like I’m the one who holds the power. His gaze holds mine as my thumbs work to pop open the top button on his jeans. Feeling brave, I reach for his zipper only to find another button. He gives me a sexy lopsided smile and places his hands over mine.

“I need an answer.”

“Is this not answer enough?” Under his grasp, I press the heels of my hands together, tightening around his shaft. He groans, deep and throaty, as he rocks against the pressure.

“As much as I would like to say, ‘yes, that’s enough,’ it’s not. Yes or no, angel? Last chance,” he warns.

Captured by his intense stare, I let my body have the last say. “Yes.”

He claims my lips with such ferocity our teeth clash, then his heat is gone. And I want to scream. “Hold that thought.”

I admire the view of his behind as he opens a drawer and searches through it. “Fuck. No condoms.” Shaking his head, he turns to me. “Don’t go anywhere.” He strides out of the room and I hear the metallic jangle of keys.

I walk over to the kitchen table and rest against it, kicking my shoes off. The few seconds he’s gone allow me to clarify with myself this is what I want. I’ve never wanted to do anything like it, and I’m finding it difficult to reconcile the small conflict in my mind. But I want this. I want him to take me somewhere I’ve never gone. No doubts. The clash of the keys going back in the bowl signals his return.

“You’ve had a cooling off period. You changed your mind?”

I laugh a little. “Are you always this courteous?”

“Honestly, no.” His forehead creases. “But then I’ve never wanted to bury myself in someone so badly that I need to be sure they want me just as much.” He stalks over to the table and encircles me with his arms. “So, have you?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you right here on this table, and when you think I’m done, you’ll be wrong. I’ll be taking you to my bed and making sure I achieve everything I wanted earlier.”

His way with words has had my underwear soaked since the club, my swollen folds tingle in anticipation, and my nipples are little diamond studs, budded so tight and hard against the fabric of my dress I’m surprised they haven’t poked through.

“Stand up,” he orders. His command only increases the reaction in my body. I comply without hesitation.

He circles around me then stops at my back. His closeness has a warming effect, even though he doesn’t touch me. And God do I want him to.

“This beautiful back teased me all night,” he whispers behind my ear. Feather-light kisses move down my neck and across my exposed shoulder, sending a shudder of desire so intense to my core, I’m already close to coming. His hands join in with his mouth, grazing the skin of my shoulder blades while his mouth teases down my sensitively attuned back. Hell, every part of me is aware of this man.

“When was the last time you came, angel? Do you think I can make you come with just my voice?”

God, he’s cocky. But yes, I think it’s entirely possible to make me come with the way he talks to me. “No,” I answer, but tremble in response.

“You never answered my first question.” He must be down on his knees. His breath brushes the skin on my lower back, sending another tremor through me.

“I can’t remember.” It’s the truth. I haven’t even entertained myself. No wonder I’m so close.

“A body like this should be pleasured constantly.”

His fingers knead into my hips and move over the roundness of my behind. “Want to know what I’m going to do to this?” He squeezes the soft flesh for emphasis.

My “yes” comes out as a squeaked noise, producing a deep rumbling laugh from him.

“I’m going to strip it naked and bend it over that table, exposing your pink, wet pussy to me. Then I’m going to watch as you show me how you pleasure yourself. I want to see your fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, coated in your juices, as they work in and out, bringing you closer to the edge.”

My breaths come shallower as I gasp for breath; he’s not even touching me.

“You like that I love watching, angel?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “While I’m watching you bring pleasure to yourself, I’m going to have my hand tight around my cock, stroking in the same rhythm, and when you bring yourself to climax, I’m going to come with you and all over that fine arse.”

His heat-provoking words begin to strain and a deep growl sounds from behind me, and it’s nice to know this is as much a turn-on for him as it is for me. I rub my thighs together, trying to release the need. He must notice the movement.

“Open your legs.” His voice has gained more control.

Again, I do as he asks and this time I regret it. I can’t squeeze against the need, and the deep throb between my legs is pure heavenly torture. The fact I can’t see him, can’t feel his touch, but can sense him, adds to the erotic words he utters.

“When I’ve dragged the last drop from myself, I’m going to massage my hot cum into every crevice you possess. I’ll kneel down between your legs and lick your swollen lips in long strokes before dipping my tongue inside you. Tasting my own cum mixed with you until I’m hard again and you’re beginning for mercy.” My lips part as his breath tickles the insides of my thighs, adding to the sensations overtaking my senses. “I’ll spread you wide and slowly sink my cock into your pussy,” he continues, and I let out a needy moan.

With Noah’s words and the visual I’ve created in my mind, my body can’t take anymore. Heat surges from my feet upwards. My legs ignite, and as the delicious heat hits my sex my orgasm convulses through me in strong waves. My legs tremble and I struggle to stand. Firm arms wrap around me, holding me steady while the last of my orgasm ebbs away.

His firm bulge presses hard into my bum. His chest swells and falls like my own, and his panted breaths warm my neck. “Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice is tight but full of awe. “I need to be inside you, Lizzie.”

He presses on my back to push my chest down to the table. I willingly go. “This is probably going to be the quickest fuck you’ve ever had.” He chuckles. “But I promise when I get you upstairs I’ll make it up to you.”

I’m too wound up to speak but manage a small nod.

Large hands skim my legs, raising my dress up. He exhales a long breath and it passes over my rear, warming me from head to toe. “You’re beautiful.”

Behind me the sounds of his jean buttons being torn open along with the crinkle of a wrapper add to the excitement coursing through me.

“I want to see you,” I softly plead. My voice is husky, even to my own ears.

“Turn around then.”

“Can I?”

“I’m not a fucking dom, Lizzie. You can do what you’d like.”

He could have fooled me. He’s dominating every cell in my body.

When I dare turn, my eyes widen. His shirt’s open and I catch glimpses of intricate tattoos on his chest. My eyes are drawn south where another tattoo on his chiselled lower abdomen peeks out from behind his jeans. But the thing that gets my attention the most is the thick shaft resting in his hand, his jeans open and pulled down just enough to release him.

My gaze flicks from his impressive erection to his face. A cocky smirk dances along his full lips. “Like what you see?”

“It’s all right,” I tease.

He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in to claim my mouth. I enclose my hand around his thickness and tighten my grip, slowly working him up and down, and then tracing his thick vein. The moan he releases into my mouth travels straight to my core. We slowly and hesitantly break apart and he rests his forehead against mine.

“I’ll give you all right. Bend your arse over the table, because I’m going to show you just how all right I am.”

Breathless, I twist to the table and bend over. He surprises me by running his fingers up my calves followed by my thighs. His hands are skilled, masterful, but gentle. When they flutter over my sex my legs begin to tremble again. “One day I’m going to watch as my cum slides down the inside of these legs.”

His words suck all the air from my lungs. One day? He wants more? He moves my underwear aside and teases my entrance before pushing two fingers inside me, stroking in and out in a slow, rhythmic motion. No other part of him touches me and it’s hot as hell. He hooks his fingers and presses against the sensitive spot on my inner wall, and my legs give way.

His warm, hard torso settles onto my back. “Easy, angel.”

My breaths come in heavy pants as I struggle to maintain a single coherent thought. He moves, adjusts my dress, and I feel him push against me. At a leisurely tempo, he glides himself over my clit and to my opening, repeating the motion, over and over.

“Oh, God. Now, Noah.”

Slowly he sinks himself into me, inch by thick inch. My walls yield against his girth causing a moan of pleasure to escape me. Just as slow, he retracts, allowing me to feel every ridge and contour of him.

“Fuck.” One hand digs into my hip, the other winds around to cradle my neck, not tight, but possessive in a way that turns my insides into liquid. “Hold on tight.” His voice is strangled, as if he’s the one trying to hold on and not come undone.

My fingers grasp around the edge of the table. He steadily increases his rhythm with each thrust taking me higher and closer until I’m fighting for air. Something crashes off the table as he thrusts ever harder into me. Fighting to find my own release, I move my hips as aggressively back as possible against his. He lets go of my hip, slides his hand around my front and travels down, rubbing soft circles on my oversensitive nub. It’s the final touch sending me over. My insides quake and flex around him. A few last thrusts and he groans through his own release. I feel each and every pulse from his engorged shaft, forcing my walls tighter around him.

He lets go of my neck, but instead of moving away, both hands come to rest at my shoulders. Soft kisses rain down on my shoulders and exposed back. It’s a tender gesture I wasn’t expecting.

“Do you want that coffee now, or do you want me to carry you upstairs to continue this?” I feel him smile against my skin.

“You want more?” I pant out.

He said he would, but I never thought he’d follow through.

“Lizzie… I want much fucking more.”

I gasp when he slides out of me, and my body protests against the loss. He pulls me up from the table and around to face him. One of his large hands tangle into the loose hair at my nape and he pulls me in to kiss me, long and hard. The other, he uses to deal with the condom. Nipping my lower lip with his teeth, he pulls away. “Well?”

“Upstairs.”

He laughs and sweeps me up in his strong arms. “No need to tell me twice, angel.”

My body’s sore and exhausted, but my mind’s gone into overdrive. I don’t feel guilty. I should. But I don’t.

Noah’s steady breaths brush over my shoulders, while his arms encase me, holding me close. The whole night’s been a whirlwind of lust and desire, but now, lying in his arms, it feels… right.

This is all I’ll get, this one night. My heart pinches a little at the thought, but I know it has no right to be involved. He warned me. He told me he could offer nothing more, so it’s not like I went in blind. It was just his arousal talking when he mentioned one day.

The half-light of day illuminates his bedroom, increasing the pent-up anguish which swirls in my stomach. I need to leave, now. Because I already know I won’t want to go if he wakes. I’ll turn into one of those stupid women who go into a one-night stand expecting something more to come of it. He’s already admitted he’s not that man.

I gently squirm out of his arms and collect my clothes from his floor. He shifts and groans, and his arm flails for a second searching for something. I place a pillow under it and he pulls it closer, settling him down.

In his sleep, he looks younger. His beautiful but rugged features relax, almost as if every pressure he has ever felt has lifted from him. I take in his entire sculpted upper half and curse the fact his sheet covers the bottom. He’s magnificent.

Quietly, I leave the room. Fumbling with my clothes, I manage to get dressed on the landing before going downstairs to the kitchen. I wonder what the rest of his house looks like, but I don’t have time to investigate.

My cheeks heat and a rash of tingles cover my body when the smashed bowl on the floor catches my attention. I pick up the pieces and place them in the bin. My bag still sits on the floor by the kitchen door. I grab it, placing it back on the table, and then sift through for my phone.

There’re a couple of messages from Alex checking to see if I’m okay, and none from Mac. It doesn’t surprise me. He’s probably high somewhere, getting sucked off by a groupie. I pause over the thought. It had never occurred to me to question his fidelity until tonight. I’m stupid. We haven’t had sex in ages, where did I think he was getting it? Sadly, it doesn’t even bother me. It does make me think of getting checked out though, just in case my thoughts are true.

I sigh and type out a text to Alex asking him to pick me up. It’s unfair to wake him because of my stupidity but Boo left the club with a man too, so she may not want to be pulled away.

The screen lights up with a message. He’ll be here in a few minutes. I put my phone away, locate my shoes and put them back on. The balls of my feet burn and I curse the amount of dancing I did last night. Making sure I have everything I arrived with, I walk out into the hallway.

Noah’s sitting on the stairs, elbows resting on his knees. “Leaving?” His voice is sleep ridden and sexy as sin, much like the half-naked torso I can’t tear my eyes away from. We’d barely been asleep an hour before I left his bed and I thank my lucky stars I don’t appear a complete mess and didn’t have time to get morning breath.

“I thought it was best.”

He stands up and stalks towards me. “Well, you’re wrong.”

My heart rate picks up as he approaches. When he reaches me, his hands cup both sides of my face and he still smells incredible. “I need your number.” He speaks softly.

I shake my head out of his grasp. “There’s no need to pretend this is more than what it is.”

“I’m not.” His penetrative gaze burns into mine. “If you think last night was enough to appease my hunger for your body, you’re very much mistaken.”

And I’m wet again. “Oh.”

He laughs deep and throaty. “There you go with ‘oh’ again.” He grazes my cheekbone with his thumb. “Can I have your number? Please.”

Outside, crunching gravel and the sound of an engine signal Alex’s arrival. “Do you have some paper and a pen?”

“On the table.” He gestures to one in the hallway. I rush over and quickly scribble down my number. “I’ve got to go.”

“Come here.” He pulls me against him and his erection digs into me, sending anticipation flooding through me. “You feel that?”

“Yes.” My voice comes out as husky as his.

“Good.” He kisses me hard on the lips. “See you soon.” He releases me, leaving me breathless and burning for him.

I take in a shaky breath before responding. “Bye, Noah.”

He passes by me and opens the door, giving me a lopsided smile. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay.” I scoot out the front door to the safety of Alex’s car. I don’t regret the night and I don’t regret giving him my number, but with the way he makes me feel, I fear for my heart.

Noah pauses at his front door, his brows pinch together and his smile fades a little.

“Good night?” Alex grins at me from the driver’s seat drawing my attention from the magnificent nakedness I can’t help but drool over.

The heat of embarrassment burns my cheeks. He shouldn’t be dealing with me doing this sort of thing. I look away from him and out the windscreen. “Yes.” Noah’s gone.

Alex must pick up on how uncomfortable I am and remains quiet. My phone sounds with a text alert. I fish it out of my bag and see a message from a number I don’t recognise, but I know it’s Noah.

Unknown: You were wonderful.

Unable to control the rush of pleasure I feel with his words, I smile at my phone. I save his number and quickly return it to my bag. But the text makes something bother me. I turn to Alex. “How did you know how to find me?” I hadn’t texted him the address. I couldn’t, because I don’t know it.

He looks a little unsettled for a second. His jaw tics and he grips his fingers around the steering wheel.

“I followed you here last night. It’s my job to keep an eye on you.”

If anybody else had done the same, it would be creepy. But with Mac on tour, Alex is my bodyguard—not that I need one when Mac’s gone. I eye him a little longer but decide to let it go. While looking at him, it dawns on me there’s something very different about him.

“The baseball cap suits you.”

He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “Bed hair.”

Eight Months Later

LIZZIE LIES IN my arms, and her steady breath tickles over the skin on my chest. Eight months we’ve been doing this and it’s not getting old, far from it. We’ve spent the whole day watching black and white films, apart from when we ordered pizza, and fucked. I’ll never be tired of that. I slide my hand around her waist to find her hand, entwining it with mine.

“Noah, are you awake?” Lizzie whispers, her voice breathy.

Her daft question makes me smile. I just moved. “Yeah.” I tighten my arms around her and lean in to kiss her temple.

“I love being here with you. Being cocooned in your arms. Held like you fear I might vanish at any second.”

“You planning on disappearing on me?” I ask. My voice’s gruff and my heart squeezes at the thought. But I do hold her like that.

“Never,” she answers confidently. And I feel her smile against my chest.

I let out a relieved breath I didn’t even realise I was holding as she continues.

“I thought I understood what love was, but the dream became battered and broken. I always believed love was a safe place, like here.” She traces the tattoos on my chest. “But did you know love could be twisted and painful? I know it’s really stupid, but I never realised it could hurt, not without betrayal.”

I can’t figure out where she’s going with this so I let her continue, but my chest gets tighter with each word.

“I’m worried because I love us. This.” She peers up at me through her lashes. “But I’m frightened by what I feel for you. It’s stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before, and it could crush me if I let it.” She moves her hand down to rub circles on the forearm wrapped around her waist, her gaze follows it.

Without exact words she just told me she loves me and I want desperately to tell her something she wants to hear, but I can’t.

“I don’t know what to say, angel. I could beg you to let me in, to trust me, and I could promise that I’ll never be that man, that I’ll never hurt you. But—” I shift so I can look into her eyes. “It’s probably likely. I’ve never done anything like this. Never wanted to.”

I keep to myself the reasons why and continue. “You distorted my world, made me view things a little differently. You made we want things I’ve never thought about before. Made me think about a future. But I can’t promise you I won’t mess up, and I can’t promise you a happy ending.”

The warning needs to be out there, no matter what feelings swirl around in me. I’m not relationship material and if we continue down the path we’ve taken she may get hurt, fuck, she will get hurt.

She turns in my arms and sleepily nods into my chest. “This makes me happy.”

Those few little words make me fucking ecstatic. Instead of telling her, I pull her a little tighter against me.

Her fingers work over my abs and down over my tattooed brand. “Why Underdog?”

My insides clench and I hope she can’t hear the missed heartbeat. She’s never questioned it before. “Because I’ve always been one.”

Her face moves against my chest as she snuggles in further. “I doubt that.”

“Shh, angel. Go to sleep.”

I place a kiss on her forehead and breathe in her scent as she drifts off. Her breaths even out as I stare down at her beautiful face. My chest swells with a foreign emotion watching her engulfed in my arms. This thing between us has grown, turned into something I never expected, wanted, or dared believe I could have. But she doesn’t know the whole me. And that small fact holds me back.

I wake early and throw my legs over the edge of the bed. The movement produces a soft noise from Lizzie. My morning glory sits heavy between my legs. I’m not sure which I want the most, to take a piss, or to wake her up and take her again. Unfortunately the need for the bathroom wins out.

As I’m about to stand, there’s a vibration from her phone on the bedside table. I’m not nosey but it’s five in the morning so maybe it’s important. Leaning towards the phone, I glance at the screen.

Mac: I’m home, tour ended. Where R U? I missed U baby <3

Mac? Shit. The boyfriend. He’s home early from tour; he wasn’t due back until next month. I’ve had her to myself for months and my stomach tightens at the thought of sharing her again. He’s flown in a few times for a day here or there, but this is different. He’s back, full-time. My fingers squeeze around the phone. Smashing it is too tempting, so quietly I place it back down. It’s either that or fight the urge to scroll through her personal messages and see if there’s any other loved up shit on there.

My nails dig into my head when I scrub over my hair and down my face. What am I going to do? Why the fuck should it bother me? I’ve never cared before.

I’ve never cared before? Before what? Her…

The thought of him touching her in ways I touch her sends a wave of nausea through me. Or could it be the beer? Yeah, that’s it. Getting out of bed, I snatch up my underwear and head to the bathroom. I flip the lid on the toilet and dry-heave a couple of times. Nothing comes out. Not a fucking thing. I’m guessing it’s not the beer.

My heart still pounds and my stomach churns, making me rethink the cause. Jealousy would be a new concept for me.

I raise the toilet seat, taking my now semi-hard cock in my hand, and wait for it to go down so I can do what I came here for.

Is his bigger than mine?

Why the fuck should I care what size his cock is? Mine’s fucking awesome. But the thought of his being anywhere near my girl has the great effect of killing any hardness in mine, so at least I can take a piss. I shake off and pull on my boxers, but I can’t shake the feeling.

Shutting the lid, I hesitate from flushing. I don’t want to wake Lizzie. After the quickest, and quietest, hand wash in history, I chuck on some sweats and head downstairs to the kitchen.

My girl?

She’s not mine. I grab the coffee, milk, and sweetener, and make myself a big mug. The swirls of steam send me into a trance.

Not mine.

Anger begins to mix in with my pounding chest and the nausea twisting my insides.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

With both hands, I grasp the work surface edge and hang my head. All I need is a couple more seconds and this feeling will go away. A few deep breaths and it’ll all be fine. I inhale deeply twenty times. I count each laboured breath, but it doesn’t work.

Fuck. This. Shit.

I flinch at the contact of warm, delicate, arms wrapping around my waist, but relax as her soft cheek rests against my bare back.

“You saw the text, didn’t you?”

Every muscle tightens, but I’m not going to lie to her. “Yeah.”

We remain in the same position without talking. Her thumb-tips trace my abs absentmindedly. And I fight to calm the fuck down.

“I can’t lose you.” My voice is raw. It dawns on me that’s the issue. Why her touch won’t calm me like usual.

“You won’t. I’d never willingly leave you.” Her words act as an anti-stress injection. Everything loosens but leaves me weakened.

I lean back a fraction and spin around so I can see her. Her skin’s pale, her eyes dull. Her vibrancy has disappeared. Not a sign of my Lizzie. She gives me a sad smile then buries her face into my chest. One arm wraps her tight against me, the other free hand tangles into her hair. Just one text and her light has gone. My lips rest in a flat, hard line.

“What does he do to you?” No man should take the light from a woman’s eyes. When she’s mine, her eyes are an electric storm. When she’s his, they lose all spark.

She holds her breath a little then sighs against me. “Nothing.” She smiles against my chest. “He’s just not you.”

The hand in her hair tightens and I tug her head back, finding her lips with mine in a tornado of desire. My free hand digs into the waistband of her jeans and my heart stutters a fraction before getting lost in her. When we break apart we are both breathless.

“You’re dressed,” I point out.

Her gaze shifts nervously around the kitchen then back to me. “Yes. I need to go.”

I move away and take hold of my coffee, swallow down the now cold liquid, and try to control the unreasonable temper rising in me. “You’re running straight home to him?” Nothing could stop the shift in octave of my voice.

Her nervous hands twist fingers together. “No. I’ll go to Boo’s.”

“What’s the difference? Why don’t you just stay here?”

“What if he tracks my phone and finds me here?”

I slam the mug back down onto the surface. “He fucking tracks you?” Protectiveness I’ve never felt so strong hits me, slamming me hard in the chest.

Her shoulders drop. “I can’t take the chance. I can’t deal with the repercussions if he did.”

“What repercussions?” I demand. Something’s not right here, there’s a tight tone to her voice.

She storms out of the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, “Just leave it, will you?”

“Turn your fucking phone off,” I yell after her.

I take a few minutes to calm down and leave her to do the same. I’m not angry with her. I’m angry with the cocksucker. I’m fucking livid he gets to call her his, and I don’t.

When I finally give in and head upstairs, I find her lying on the bed. Her eyes are shuttered closed and the heaving in her chest tells me she’s still upset with me. I don’t blame her. I’ve no right, or even any reason, to demand she answers shit. And if she thinks it’s best to go to Boo’s then who am I to stop her? That doesn’t stop me from staring at her, almost as if memorising every line, every curve of her perfect body.

I sink down onto the bed next to her. “I’m sorry.” My voice is low and soft; I don’t like seeing her upset.

Her eyes open and she fixes me with her gaze, before releasing me to stare into space. “This is too hard. We need to stop.” There’s no conviction in her tone and she can’t look at me.

Fuck. I need her eyes on me.

“No.” It’s out of my mouth before my brain can engage. But there’s no way this is stopping. Not now. Not fucking ever.

A sad smile forms on her lips as she returns her gaze to me. “I thought this was just entertainment to you.”

Was it? Maybe. Is it now? Fuck no. It’s so much more.

“I like having you in my bed.” I scrape my hands through my hair, and then let out a low, frustrated breath. Admitting this is huge for me. “I like being around you. A lot.”

“Really?” She searches my face.

I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but I hope she finds it, because I can’t say what I’m really feeling. “Yeah.”

“I like being around you, too.” Her dejected face disappears, replaced by a naughty look. “And I like you having me in your bed.” She wants to play? Now?

“Then leave him. Be mine.” I say it with conviction. My pulse increases with the request.

The grey storm in her eyes comes alive and then fades. “I… Noah…” She sighs. “I wish it were that simple.”

I want the light back. I fucking demand it. “I can make it simple.” My body covers hers within seconds. My thighs encase her hips and I pin her hands behind her head.

Her tongue peeps out from between her pink lips, sweeping over the bottom one. The small movement strikes me right in the dick. And I want her again. It’s like I can never get enough, never get deep enough inside her to take the edge off the need.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” My cock quite clearly demands something entirely different.

Her smile widens. “Really? And why’s that?”

Yeah, Noah. Why the fuck is that?

“Because I want you begging for me. I want you permanently wet imaging how I’m going to take you next time.” I lean down and run my nose up the soft skin of her neck to her ear. “I want you to need my hands and mouth on your pussy, and when you can’t take it anymore, I want you to beg me to fill you”—I sound like a conceited tosser, but I know how to fuck, and if that’s the only thing to bring her back to me, it’s what I’ll use—“and begging to be mine.”

Her breaths become shallower, and between my thighs I can feel hers tighten. I tease her ear with my teeth and trail my tongue back down her neck. I could cut glass with how hard my cock is, but this is the right thing to do. Claiming her now would achieve nothing, and make my thirst for her worse.