Noah travels up my body, planting soft kisses near my belly button. On my rib cage. Between my breasts.
On my mouth.
He deepens the kiss, awakening my body once more.
Needing to touch him, I wrap my fingers around his cock. It fills my hand with its velvety softness.
Noah groans out a word that could be “Christ.” I pump my hand along his hard length. A low growl pushes from his lungs, leaving me feeling more empowered than I have in a while.
I love the sound of it, the feel of it against my mouth as he continues kissing me.
My thumb traces around the head, spreading the moisture beading on the tip.
This time I can definitely make out what Noah says and I giggle. I’m getting to him. But then I think I got to him the moment I practically begged him to be inside me.
Noah pulls back, grabs the package from the bed, and a moment later is covered and ready to go.
He aligns himself with my entrance and slowly pushes himself in. My body rejoices at the feel of him. Welcomes him. Hugs him tight.
Once he’s fully seated, he pauses, his ragged breath warm against my shoulder.
I wrap my legs around his hips and groan as a delicious new sensation hits me down low.
Noah begins moving inside me, slow and rhythmically at first, then increasing with speed and roughness. The heat that had dropped to a gentle boil after he had eaten me out is now at the level of a volcano about to explode.
I won’t last much longer.
I moan something to that effect. He keeps going until my muscles tighten hard around him and I cry out. If I thought I’d seen the stars last time, that was nothing compared to now.
Noah grunts out his release a moment later and collapses on me. I welcome his weight pressing down on me as we fight to regain our breaths.
Once it’s returned to a level that doesn’t sound like we’ve just sprinted the last mile of a marathon, Noah removes himself from me.
I’m too spent to figure out what comes next. A not-so-drowsy voice in my head reminds me of a conversation Noah and I had before. He doesn’t do repeat business. When it comes to sex with a woman, it’s a one-time thing for him.
I momentarily wrap myself in disappointment, then shove it aside. So what if it was just a one-time thing? I’m only in Copper Creek for another week at the most. I’ve had my fun. Now I can focus one hundred and ten percent on the job.
My body busts out laughing.Good luck with that goal.
Noah returns to the bed and pulls me to him. I settle my head on his chest and listen to the relaxing beat of his heart. Why does this have to feel so right when I know it shouldn’t?
“You said your stepmother booked plastic surgery for the scars?” He doesn’t say it in a tone that implies that it’s a good idea. His question is more out of curiosity.
“She did, but I canceled it. I decided to keep them to remind me what happens when I trust someone with my heart.”
“Couldn’t you have gotten a tattoo instead?”
“I don’t like needles.”
He laughs. “Can’t say I blame you there.”
“Are you saying I should have the surgery?”
He tenderly strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I told you the scars don’t bother me. They’re a part of you, and I happen to think every part of you is great. But you come from a world that embraces looking perfect. I bet there are more plastic surgeons per capita there than in most other places.”
I giggle. “You’re probably right about that. I’m sure my stepmother has them on speed dial for the moment she spots her first crow’s foot.”
“How’s your leg doing now?”
