There was no teasing. No slow undoing of buttons. Just the scrape of metal teeth, the hiss of breath, and the sharp slap of denim hitting the floor.
As we crashed onto the bed, the world narrowed to the heat of Noah's body against mine, the roughness of his stubble grazing my jaw.
His hands were urgent, almost clumsy, as they tugged at my shirt, buttons popping off and scattering across the floor. The cool air of the room hit my bare chest, a stark contrast to the inferno raging inside me.
Noah's mouth found my throat, his teeth pressing just hard enough to make me gasp. His breath was hot and ragged, each exhale a silent plea for more.
He watched me with dark, intense eyes as I stripped away the rest of my clothes. His gaze was as physical as a touch, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
I saw the tension in his jaw and how his fingers gripped the bedspread and sheets beneath us, knuckles white. I was a storm, barely contained, and I wanted to consume him.
I straddled him, my knees sinking into the stiff mattress. His hands immediately went to my hips, gripping tightly, almost painfully. I leaned down and crashed my mouth against his.
It was a messy, desperate kiss, all raw need and pent-up frustration. I tasted the salt of his sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood where I'd bitten his lip earlier. It was real, visceral.
His hands roamed over my body, each touch claiming the space. He pinched my nipples, the sharp pain making me arch against him.
The hard length of his cock pressed against mine with maddening friction. It wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed everything.
I reached between us, wrapping my hand around both of our cocks. Noah groaned a low, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest. I stroked us together, the slick heat of our precum making the glide smooth and easy.
His hips bucked up, meeting my thrusts, and his breath came in short, sharp gasps.
I still needed more. I needed to be inside him. I reached for my bag, my hands shaking as I fumbled for the small bottle of lube I'd brought along.
Noah watched me, his eyes never leaving my face. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a silent trust that made my chest ache.
He gasped under me—neck arched, back bowing. And then:
"I'm not running. You're not chasing."
His voice was raw. Shaky. Like the truth of it had surprised even him.
I pressed my mouth to the hollow beneath his jaw. "Then stop me."
He didn't.
I slicked up my fingers, the cool gel a stark contrast with the heat of my skin. I pressed them against his entrance, feeling the tight ring of muscle resist for a moment before giving way.
He let out a low hiss, his body tensing briefly before relaxing. I worked him open slowly, my fingers moving in and out, each thrust a little deeper, a little more insistent.
When I couldn't take it anymore, I rolled a condom down my shaft and positioned myself at his entrance. The head of my cock pressed against him, and for a moment, the world stopped turning. It was just us, suspended in a raw, honest moment. Then, with a single, hard thrust, I sank into him.
Noah cried out, his nails digging into my back. I froze, letting him adjust, his tight heat wrapping around me.
Then, I started to move. Each thrust was deep and brutal, slamming the bed against the wall. Sweat slicked our skin.
His cock was hard and leaking, trapped between our bodies. I reached down, stroking him in time with my thrusts.
He couldn't hold back. Noah's body tensed, and his muscles clenched around me as he came with a low groan, spilling hot and sticky cum over my hand.
The sight and sound of him sent me over the edge. I came hard, my body shuddering as I emptied myself inside the condom. We collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. The room was suddenly full of the mingled scents of sex and sweat.
We didn't speak. There was nothing to say. We'd used each other, raw and rough, to chase away the demons that haunted us. And for now, in this anonymous hotel room, it was enough.
The silence was comforting, a shared understanding that words would only complicate the simplicity of what we'd just done. So, we lay there, the hum of the mini fridge the only sound, as we slowly drifted back to reality.
The sheets were tangled halfway down the bed, clinging to sweat-damp skin.
