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Did other women play like this?
She didn’t know. She only knew she needed it, and that Noah was not ready to refuse her.
That knowledge sent her to her knees.
Amazing, yes? She’d never been this turned on, this ready to try anything, this determined to take every taste of life and passion available to her. Her hands fumbled at his belt and zipper, but she persisted, even though his head fell back and his groan rubbed like a calloused hand against her skin.
In the vee of his opened pants was the muted print of a pair of silky boxers. It was just a thin layer of satiny sensation between her hand and the heavy jut of his erection. She cradled it, letting the cup of her palm fold around his hard heat. He jerked into her touch and more wetness rushed between her thighs.
Hard. Heat. Wet.
Sensation piling upon sensation.
Who would have thought she’d need even more? That she’d push aside that silk so that his erection pushed toward her. Pushed toward her mouth.
And she wanted that sensation, too. She rubbed her cheek against him and reveled in the smooth heat that was softer than his lips and as hard as any of his other male muscles. His fingers slid into her hair—more dishevelment—but the light tug on her scalp sparked sensation all across her skin. She turned her cheek again and her lips found his soft skin. His erection jerked against the touch of her mouth, and his tense silence almost made her laugh.
Yes, this.
Of course, this.
She opened her lips and took him inside. The sleek head rested on her tongue and she swirled around it, savoring him like ice cream in summer, then she stroked along his shaft as she would lick a peppermint stick in winter. His fingers scraped against her scalp and she tightened her own around his hard thighs as she slid her mouth back up to suck on the tip.
Noah groaned again, maybe it was her name, but her heartbeat pounded loud in her ears, distancing any other noise. Everything took second place to the virility of his hard thighs against her palms and the aggressive jut of his sex in her mouth.
Yet she controlled that aggression, even on her knees. She was the one with the power. It was exhilarating to have all this life at her mercy, when for so long she’d been at the mercy of slow death and suffocating grief. Leaning into his legs, she pressed her swelling breasts against him and took him deeper, finding a rhythm that worked in counterpoint to her pounding pulse.
The knuckles of one of his hands traced the fiery heat of her cheek and she lifted her gaze to his, seeing the blue irises almost eclipsed by the pupils. A shiver rolled down her back.
I do this to him.
Another shiver rocketed along her spine, and she slowed her rhythm to ratchet up his need. Then, without breaking eye contact, she stopped altogether, holding him gently in the wet cavern of her mouth. His chest expanded, but he didn’t move otherwise.
“Whatever you need, baby,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You take whatever you want, for however long you want.”
But she wasn’t an idiot. The tension in his frame made clear that despite his best intentions, he couldn’t hold off forever. And there were places left to explore.
With a last reluctant tongue-stroke, she got to her feet—and found herself wrapped in his arms and her mouth busy once again…with his. She melted against him and let him take over for a moment, unable to resist the glorious feel of his chest pressed to hers. Her hands slid up his sides and she wiggled her fingers under the shoulders of his shirt to lift it off.
As it fluttered to the floor, he pushed her away. “Now you.”
The ultra-sensitive skin over her rib cage twitched at the brush of his hands, but then her shirt was gone, too. Across the room, the mirror showed her breasts heaving over the cups of her bra and Noah glanced back to see what had snagged her attention.
He turned to her with a smile and his forefinger traced the upper edges of her bra. “Pretty. Can you blame me for my fascination?”
But she was fascinated again, as her attention shifted to the reflection of Noah’s back. The powerful shoulders slimmed to narrow hips and she saw the flat planes of his muscles shift as he continued to caress the tops of her breasts with that maddening finger. “I want you naked,” she said, her gaze still trained on the mirror. “I want to see everything.”
The other morning, silly woman that she was, she’d spent too much time with her eyes squeezed shut. She’d wasted too much time worrying about what he thought and what she could possibly do for him. Now she wanted to see, touch, taste, experience for herself.
Without hesitation, Noah pushed away his slacks and boxers. Breath caught in her chest and heat flashed over her at the sight of his powerful curves and warm skin. Her hand seemed too heavy as she slid it around the hard flesh at his waist to cup one round, male cheek.
