Chapter Six
Mia
The feeling of Noah’s hand on my leg, strong and steady, had everything in me tightening. I was focused on his big fingers working the bandage around my ankle. It probably wasn’t necessary since it was just a sprain, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his touch.
I found myself transfixed by his presence. He personified what I envisioned a strong and virile, powerful and dominating man would be like, act like. He was a man of few words, but he didn’t need to speak for his actions and meaning to come across loud and clear.
“I’ll grab some ice. Just keep it propped up for now.” He glanced up at me and I saw the way his pupils dilated, the black eating up the green. My heart raced faster and I felt my palms start to sweat.
He rested my leg up on the ottoman he had just been seated on and walked into the kitchen to grab the ice. When he returned, his focus down on the ice tray, I couldn’t help but stare at him. I watched as the muscles underneath his white T-shirt flexed. I let my gaze linger on his broad shoulders, wander down to his six-pack, which could be clearly seen underneath the fabric, and make its way lower to his narrow waist.
I felt like some hormonal teenager, like I wasn’t myself. It was as if something possessed me, this heat rising through me, consuming every single part of me. Every erogenous zone in my body tingled, pumping with increased blood flow. I felt like my nipples were hard enough to cut through my shirt, and found myself gripping the material and pulling it slightly away from my body so he didn’t see.
Noah came back over to me with a bag full of ice wrapped in a towel. He put it on my ankle, but despite the chill, my body was still overheated. The silence stretched on between us and I tried not to look at him, knowing my emotions were erratic.
There was this man, so attractive and powerful, who’d chosen a celibate, lonely life.
Because I was obviously not thinking clearly, I reached out and placed my hand over his, which still rested on the bag of ice. His hands were so much bigger than mine, his skin so much more tanned despite the bleak weather we’d been having. His body heat seeped into me and I shivered. And when he lifted his gaze to mine and our eyes locked, I felt as if the world tilted.
Being at his house, surrounded by his things, and the woodsy scent of him invading my senses had all rational thought leaving me. I felt like I was losing my mind.
I could see the way his body shifted, how he started breathing harder, his broad shoulders going up and down from his increased respirations.
I felt my heart race faster; my palms started to sweat. Everything in me was on high alert and I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like a derailed train and all I could do was sit and watch the destruction.
I wanted to reach out and run my hand over his beard, just drive my fingers along the short strands that covered his cheeks and chin.
And then I found myself leaning forward, holding my breath, and praying that what I was about to do wouldn’t completely ruin this.
Whatever this was.
I found myself reaching up and cupping his cheek, the hair on his face soft against my palm and fingertips. I didn’t know what I was doing. This was totally out of character for me, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to, and the way Noah hadn’t pushed me away, and how he seemed to be breathing even harder now, told me he liked this, as well.
I leaned in another inch and heard the bag of ice crinkle slightly as he did the same. We were so close now, practically sharing the same air, our mouths slightly parted. The heat in the room went up another ten degrees and I felt beads of sweat dotting the area between my breasts.
I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. I licked my lips and heard him groan, the sound animalistic and primal and doing something wicked to me. In Noah’s presence I felt like a woman, feminine in every single aspect.
And then, as if he read my mind, he leaned in and closed the distance that separated us. His mouth on mine felt like heaven, ambrosia that made me desperate for more. And when I felt the light touch of his tongue against the seam of my lips, I gasped. He took that moment to slip his tongue inside, stroking mine with his, and flaming me even higher.
The bag of ice tumbled to the ground with a loud clatter that didn’t even penetrate the haze of arousal that held me prisoner.
And before I knew what was happening, he had his hands on my waist and had hauled me onto his lap. The moan that left me was uncontrollable, but he swallowed it, mouth-fucking me like I wanted him to do between my thighs. I was so wet that my panties were soaked clean through. Never had I felt this kind of arousal before. Never had I even thought that this was possible.
“Touch me,” he said in a rough growl against my mouth.
I speared my hands in his short dark hair and pulled at the strands hard enough that he hissed. But the groan that followed told me he liked it. I felt so small and fragile on his lap, his body so big compared to mine. And the things he did to the inside of my mouth, the way he played with my tongue, had me grinding harder against him.
And the stiff rod I felt between us... God, it was huge and thick. I imagined what he would feel like inside of me, stretching me, making the pleasure and pain morph into one. I was rocking back and forth on him now, rubbing myself on his erection.
His hands on my hips were painful, but it was the good kind of discomfort, the kind I craved. I knew there would be fingerprint-sized bruises in the morning. I looked forward to seeing them.
“This is insanity,” I found myself saying, the words tumbling out of me on their own. But still he kissed me. Still he devoured me.
“No,” he said and used the leverage he had on my hips to press me down farther on him. “This is fucking perfection.”
Now he was the one making me rock back and forth on him, grinding me on his jeans-clad cock.
He broke away far too soon and I was left panting, gasping for air. He stared right into my eyes, one hand now cupping the side of my neck, holding me prisoner. But I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to ask him why he’d stopped. I wanted to tell him to do more.
“Tell me what you want.” His words were gruff, serrated, like a blade across my skin.
Could I be so bold and brazen as to tell him what I wanted? Could I actually be the type of woman who went after what she desired?
“Tell me what you want, Mia, because I guaran-fucking-tee it’s exactly what I want.”
“I want you.”
“What do you want me to do to you?”
He was pushing me, making me stretch my boundaries. The uncomfortable sensation turned me on even more, and because I’d never experienced anything this turbulent and incredible before, I found myself saying things I never thought I’d say to a man. “I want you to fuck me.”
He growled again like a bear in the wilderness, making my pussy tingle.
“I’m going to fuck you so good and hard that come morning you won’t be able to sit comfortably.”
Heat filled my entire body. My nipples became harder, more painful as blood rushed to the surface of my skin. I was so ready for him, so ready for Noah to make good on that promise.
I didn’t want to sit comfortably after he was done with me. I wanted to feel him still between my legs days later, the stretch and burn of his cock deep inside of me a memory that lasted an eternity.
God. Was this really happening?