He moves against me in slow, aching circles, and each pass of his tongue sends me closer and closer to the edge. The pressure building in my core feels so heavy with coiling tension that I can barely imagine what will happen when I finally fall in. But Noah, who never rushes anywhere, takes his time. Noah could do this all day, probably. Noah has all the time in the world.
I wonder if he knows that I’ve got only seconds left.
“Stop,” I gasp. The word comes out dry and quiet, like I haven’t spoken in days. “Stop.”
He draws back immediately. “Is everything okay?” Warmth rushes over me at the concern in his tone.
“God, yes, of course. I just—” I have to swallow twice before moisture floods my mouth again. Even then, I struggle to string together more than five words. “I want more. I want to feel you, before I—I want to feel you first.”
I can hear more than see his smile when he speaks. “Okay.” He lifts his hands from my thighs but otherwise doesn’t move.
Huffing, I swing my leg over his body; my knees are so weak, it’s a lot more difficult this time. As I lie on the nest of blankets and stick myself to his side, I press a series of kisses to his ear. “It’s your turn, Noah. Show me what you want.”
Unlike me, he doesn’t need to be told twice.
Gently he snakes his arm under my neck, cradling my face on his shoulder, close to his. God, it’s where I’d always dreamed of being—pillowed by his biceps. With his free arm, he reaches for whatever corner of the tent he discarded his shorts in while sliding out of his underwear at the same time. After a moment, there’s the familiar crinkle of a little square of foil.
“You really thought of everything,” I tease.
“I never venture into nature unprepared.”
Suddenly, Noah digs his fingers into my hip and pulls me against him, until my back is flush with his chest and we’re spooning. I feel the heaviness of him against the small of my back and my mouth goes dry all over again.
I shift toward him, angling myself a few inches upward and then back again, back until he slides in between my thighs with a groan. I rock forward slightly, and the tip of his cock strokes against my clit. Noah hisses through clenched teeth as I inhale sharply. This close, it’s almost enough to unravel me.
But then, Noah draws back slightly, and I know that with just one roll of his hips he’ll be inside of me. His free hand slidesbetween my breasts, and his fingers curl gently around the base of my throat. The muscles of his arm flex against my chest. His grip is strong but not choking, just holding me close—holding me so that no matter how I arch against him desperately, he’s the one in control.
I understand. We’re moving at his pace now, not mine. Impatience and need flare hot in my chest, but the way he makes me wait only makes me want him more.
I swallow, and I know he can feel it. My pulse throbs at my neck, and I know he can feel it.
I turn my head until our foreheads are touching, the bridge of my nose crossing with his. “Please.” It’s my turn to beg, to ask nicely.
He brushes his lips against mine, back and forth. “Take a deep breath in for me, Sadie,” he murmurs.
I inhale.
“Very good.”
He sinks into me.
He’s slow about it, but he doesn’t stop. I don’t have a chance to gasp for air or bite down onto something or brace myself. Inch by fucking inch, he doesn’t stop until he’s buried inside of me, hips flush against my ass. And then he’s pulling back again, in and out, steady and measured, and each stroke has me seeing stars.
Despite his even pace, Noah’s panting, and we’re both sucking air out of the same small space. The air tastes thin; I’m lightheaded. He bends his head to bite my shoulder, muffling a groan that climbs out of his throat. “God,” he sighs against my skin. “I can’t even begin to tell you how good you feel.”
I reach back to tangle my fingers in his hair as the hand on my throat snakes down my sweat-slicked torso. His fingers round my hip, gripping briefly, and then come to hover at my waist. Flexing his other arm, he twists my face back to his. “Stay with me,” he says against the corner of my lips, his gaze locking on mine. “Right here.” He captures my mouth, swallowing my moan just as his middle finger begins to circle my clit again.
It’s like my brain breaks. I’m feeling too much at once. The insistent, rolling thrust of him spreading me apart, the slow dialing of his finger as he winds me tighter and tighter, the slide of his tongue against mine until I don’t know where I end and he begins.
It’s too much. It’s just enough. As he sinks into me again, I fall apart.
I imagine this is what it feels like to be at the bottom of a waterfall as the weight of an entire river cascades over you and breaks you apart until you’re nothing but sparkling bones. I gasp his name against his mouth as each violent, shuddering wave of pleasure spears through my limbs. Somehow he presses even deeper into me as I clench around him. Somehow he’s still circling his damned finger, coaxing from me every last whimper and pulse and shiver, and fuck me if I never knew it could feel thisgood.
And still he doesn’t stop.
His hand skates back up my body and curls at the curve between my neck and shoulder, his arm a heavy brace across my chest. His pace becomes stuttering, ragged. A little off-tempo, a little rushed—and more than a little desperate. Every thrust has my eyes going out of focus, each one an aching echo of the pleasure he wrung out of me. And then suddenly he’s biting down hard into my shoulder, every muscle in his body constricting around me like he might just absorb me entirely as he falls from the same cliff I did.
We both collapse boneless onto our backs, panting into the darkness. We stare up through the tent like if we could just squint hard enough, we might see the stars again.
