Page 129 of The King Contract
My fingertips grip the wall and Noah slides himself into me in one swift movement. I choke out a silent scream, my legs almost giving out. Noah’s movements are quick and deliberate, the urgency of getting caught clearly on both our minds as he thrusts into me.
He fills me to the point I almost break, in the best possible way. The slap of our skin meeting echoes in the space, Noah’sprimal grunts and groans the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. I want to bottle it up and save it for when I’ll undoubtedly need it one day when I’m alone.
My orgasm creeps up on me and my body tightens as hot pleasure ripples from my centre to the ends of my limbs. Noah must feel it, because he increases his tempo for a few seconds before going rigid, thrusting into me deeply one last time. “Fucking hell,” he chokes out.
He stays in me for a few beats, before steering me upright. He pulls himself out and ties off the condom while I turn around, leaning against the wall to catch my breath. Noah stands in front of me and cups my face, kissing my mouth and both of my cheeks, before kissing my mouth again.
“That was so hot,” he says, his breath skating across my mouth. He coaxes my mouth open with his lips and sweeps his tongue inside. My stomach bottoms out and I thread my fingers through his hair, welcoming the kiss. I love the hard, dirty and rough with Noah as much as the tender and slow. I could lie in bed or stand in cupboards with this man for weeks on end.
When we finally pull apart, I laugh. “Noah, we look a state.”
Noah grins, my red lipstick smudged across his lips. “You look perfect.”
We eventually find a light and tidy ourselves as best we can, although there’s no restoring my makeup to how Sofia perfected it. I give myself a final once-over in my compact mirror and snap it shut in resignation. “That’ll have to do,” I sigh.
Noah’s gaze fixates on me. “Like I said before, you look perfect.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “I meant to ask you earlier, how does it feel to be a winner again?”
“I’ve been a winner ever since I met you.”
I roll my eyes. “Too cliché, King.”
“It’s true,” he insists. “I met you in school and started kicking ass in the surf at sixteen. Maybe you’ve always been my good luck charm.”
I step closer and wrap my arms around his waist. “I can’t wait to see the luck I bring on the tour.”
He nudges my nose with his. “Me either.”
NOAH
10 MONTHS LATER
I’m going to smack you tomorrow
Millie leansacross the giant table in the staff room, arranging polaroids of this week’s activities into piles that make sense to her. This entire week she’s snapped photos and videos of the kids on camp, including candid shots with her new polaroid camera. She’s arranging for each of the forty-eight kids and twelve adults to go home with mementos of the week when they depart tomorrow, and she’s taking the job very seriously.
The first camp of Maelstrom Wave Riders ends in twelve hours, and whilst wrangling almost fifty kids of varying ages for our first ever camp was one hell of a learning experience, I can’t wait to do it again. Participants told us before bed tonight they don’t want to go home, they’ve made new friends and can’t wait to save for a surfboard. It’s more than I could’ve dreamed.
My friends and other trusted people in my circle all played different roles this week. Teachers, instructors, counsellors, stand-in parents for those who hurt themselves and those who wanted to celebrate achievements. We have lots to reflect on and will do a de-brief before our camping trip in a couple of weeks’ time on what we can improve for next time.
For starters, we have to figure out how to manage demand. The waitlist for the next one is a mile long, so searching for a space which can cater for more participants is high on the list. The venue we found for our pilot Australian camp is a quick ten-minute walk to the beach, but it doesn’t have enough cabins to cater for our numbers. Not a bad problem to have.
Millie chews her bottom lip, flipping her mass of dark curls over her shoulder. She mumbles to herself as she rearranges her piles.
I rise from the couch, making my way over to her. “How much longer are you going to obsess over those?”
“Don’t rush me,” she grits out, not taking her eyes off the table. “I want it to be perfect.”
“It already is,” I assure her, circling my arms around her waist. “The kids have had the best week of their lives and are going home with a goodie bag to rival those of the Oscars.”
“That reminds me, can you text Gabby and ask her to bring the gift vouchers? They still need to go in the bags.” Millie tilts her head to the sixty bags lining the far wall, already bursting with freebies for each participant to take home.
I dig my chin into her shoulder, and she squeals, leaning back into my chest. “Let’s go to bed and finish this in the morning.”
She tilts her head to the side, her arms covering mine around her waist. “I am not having sex with you while there are children on the property.”
“You’re so lame.” I kiss her neck, her coconut scent filling my nostrils. “It’s the last night and everyone’s in bed. No one’s going to walk into our room.”
