Chapter Nine
The day after Noah’s recital brought down the house, he showed up at my door in the afternoon with a bottle of champagne. He looked both rumpled and sexy as hell in jeans and a light grey t-shirt. “I thought we could celebrate together, since I didn’t get to see enough of you last night.” I felt my cheeks and neck already starting to burn.
“Come on in.” I stepped back from the open door, he stepped forward and set the bottle on the front table. He had not been inside for more than five seconds before we were touching each other, first our hands, then our lips. His kiss was deep and a little hungry. God, he was hot. I was afraid I’d faint. Instead, I pointed at the champagne. “We should chill that.”
Noah kissed my neck. “You think so?” He was plainly not even thinking about the bottle anymore, and to be honest, neither was I. We’d built up weeks of tension, and now that he could relax a little, it was all rushing out. I think I may have stuck the champagne in the fridge, but right after that we were back at each other. It was my turn to lead him now—into the bedroom.
“Is this weird?” I asked, displaying my talents as king of the mood-killers.
“If it’s not what you want, tell me,” Noah said. He squeezed my hand. “We can stop.”
My head spun as I let my gaze pan over him. After the emotional vertigo had settled, I knew my final answer. Nothing had made me half as happy in the past year as Noah Sun. And there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to take those clothes off his sculpted body.
“Let’s not stop,” I said.
So we didn’t. In a moment or two, I found myself lying with my shoulders propped against the pillows, Noah’s head buried in my neck. I sank my fingers into his hair. He sighed. One of his hands was working its way slowly but surely down my torso. He paused at the waist of my pants, then cupped my dick against his palm. If I wasn’t completely hard in the seconds preceding his touch, I was after, and I knew he could feel every inch of it.
True to his word, Noah was no real tease. I had never been disrobed as before quickly as he did it. His hands never stopped moving over me, so much so that it was difficult to keep track of exactly where he was stroking, pulling, gently squeezing me. His mouth came down on my neck and chest, with just the slightest edge of his teeth. I thought he might just rip the shirt off me.
“Wait.” I opened my eyes to see him paused above me. I touched the neckline of his shirt and the button of his faded jeans. “I’m not here to be naked by myself.”
Noah licked my nipple. “That’s fair.” I flipped him onto his back and ran my hands across his chest and stomach. The hours he put into the gym seemed very, very real. His V-lines emerged from the elastic of his boxers like mountains on a topography map. He grasped my hand and guided it over his penis, closing my fingers around his dick and balls. Following the example he’d set with me, I squeezed gently. He smirked. “Harder.”
“Is that how you want to play?” I slipped my hand down around his bare skin, gripping and pulling him at the same time.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice throaty. “Oh, hell yeah.” Within seconds, his boxers were a thing of the past. Noah pulled me forward onto his lap with those chiseled arms. His tongue caressed mine. I almost couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t really want to. All I wanted was the passionate strength of the moment. My hands tangled themselves in his thick hair. He tasted vaguely like peppermint. “I want you,” he murmured.
I said, “Okay.” His lips and tongue made a long, meandering path down my body. I couldn’t take my fingers out of his hair. When he got down between my legs, he took a minute to assess me. The first passes of his tongue were loving, nearly tender. I shuddered each time he reached the base of my shaft. All right, so maybe he was a tease. And maybe I loved it. “Noah…” My right hand fell and clenched the sheet.
“Hmm.” He slipped my cock between his lips, fondling the glossy head with his incredibly nimble tongue. I heard myself make a sound I didn’t know I could make—a guttural grunt from deep in my belly. I bent my legs at the knees. “Oh, God.”
He began to move his head, rubbing my balls with his free hand. I stopped thinking. The only thing that existed in the universe was Noah going down on me, his tongue stimulating every nerve pathway I had. He deep throated me softly at first, then with more enthusiasm, until I was practically sobbing, trying not to writhe like a person possessed. “Noah! Oh my God. Noah, oh my God!”
He said something around my dick and eased off a little. But that tongue still worked its restless magic. Coherent speech left me. I shuddered underneath him. The more I moaned, the more he seemed to want to please me. I felt it building in my hips, that warm, tight mounting of inevitability. By way of warning, I squeezed his arm. He didn’t stop. Suddenly, it was hurtling me toward an edge. I could not have stopped if I wanted to.
I cried out, loud enough that my neighbors probably disapproved. Every muscle in my body seemed to tense and release at the same earthshaking time. I gripped the sheets hard. My toes curled. Noah held my hips down with his hands until I fell slack, panting as though I had just run a marathon. “God damn it,” I said breathlessly. “God…damn it.” If that was what orgasms were supposed to feel like, I’d been having them all wrong.