by Wynne Roman
I laugh, happy and excited and so incredibly turned on. Everything about our closeness pushes me higher and higher.
Noah smiles down at me, the love in his gaze heating me as nothing else ever has. “Now it’s my turn.”
“Your turn?”
“Wait and see.”
He kisses me again, one of those deep, slow kisses that goes straight through me to my very core. He moves his mouth down my throat, strokes and sucks and bites along the way, and I throw my head back to give him better access. His hands stay busy with my breasts, teasing and pinching and fondling, and I squirm against him in need.
His mouth finds my tits next. He covers them with kisses and delicious little bites, soothes it all with more kisses, and slowly I realize he’s driving me insane.
Dear God, I need this man!
“Noah, baby, what are you doing to me?” I weave my fingers through his hair, holding him close against me.
“You crazy yet, sweetness?”
“Jesus. Yes. God, yes!”
His mouth starts to move again, going farther down. His tongue darts into my bellybutton, strokes a leisurely path toward my mound, and then he hovers there, just above my clit.
Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease.
It’s a beggar’s mantra, all run together over and over, but the little prayer never makes it out of my head. Would he listen? He’s like a man on a mission, planting open-mouthed kisses all around my pussy.
Everywhere except that place where I want him the most.
My legs scissor in invitation, more because my body needs to move than because I thought about doing it, and he pushes them wide. I’m open and bared to him, but still he doesn’t give me what I want.
What I need.
“Please, Noah!” I don’t care if I’m begging.
“You want this mouth, baby?” He drops a kiss just a little bit closer. “Or maybe my cock?”
I think he reaches for himself then, but I can’t be sure. I can only sob, “Yes! Please!”
He kisses my body again, his mouth open over my clit but not making contact, and then suddenly two fingers shove up inside my pussy.
“How about if I fuck you with my hand?”
“Oh!” I wasn’t expecting it, but it feels so damn good. It’s so different from the slow teasing of his mouth; it demands that I respond, and I do. Completely.
He pumps his fingers in and out of me, adding a third, and my hips arch against his hand in response. His grunt rings with satisfaction, and then finally, finally, finally, his tongue swipes over my clit.
“Noah!” I thrust up off the bed, shoving my pussy against his mouth, and I grab his hair in my fists. “Oh, baby, you’re turning me inside out.”
“Not yet,” he growls deeply, “but I will.”
He swipes his tongue over me again, sucks my lower lips deep, and teases the little nub that’s so stiff and aching. I surge against his mouth until the tip of his tongue stabs at my clit. It’s such an amazing rhythm, his mouth eating at me while he fucks me with his fingers. I can’t do anything but feel.
“Please, baby. Please!” I beg. “I’m close. So close.”
“You ready to come, sweetness?” he demands. “All over my fingers? My tongue?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Yes! Whatever you want.”
“I already have what I want,” he murmurs as he licks and fucks me again. “Your taste in my mouth. Sweetness.”
He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to. I go off like a rocket into space. Sensation roars through me, head to toe, and my pussy gushes for him. Tremors wrack every part of my body, and I am lost.
Noah’s clever fingers fuck me through my orgasm, going deep and scissoring wide. It isn’t enough, though.
His hands will never be enough.
I tug at his hair. “Please, baby,” I mewl. “I need you. I need you to fuck me. Now.”
“Fuuuuuck.”
He pulls his fingers free, drops a leisurely kiss on my mound, and then reaches one long arm toward the dresser. Confidently, he retrieves a condom, tears it open with his mouth, and deftly rolls it on.
His expression is heavy, intensity all but vibrating from him, and then he slides into me. Fully. Completely. So deep I feel like I’ve lost myself, leaving me to groan my welcome.
He pushes my legs up until they’re draped over his shoulders. It’s the perfect position; it gives him absolute access to my pussy. Exactly what I want him to have.
Slowly he pulls back, pushes inside again with exactly the same speed, and then does it all over again. He goes deeper than I thought was possible. He reaches everywhere, so much so that it almost hurts, and I don’t want him to stop.
I groan again, because I have to.
“You like it when I go deep, baby?”
“God, yes.” My hips flex upward, not because I think about it, but because I have to move.
He keeps up the pace, slow and steady, and I feel every movement. His girth makes sure every stroke touches me all the time. It makes a sharp edge begin to grow in tiny increments that suddenly seem huge.
He circles his hips to fuck in, retreats like he doesn’t want to go, and then pushes his way back in like we have all the time in the world. I suppose we do, but how long can I stand it?
“Noah,” I breathe raggedly. “Oh, baby, please. Make me come. I’m . . . lost!”
“Lost to me?” He doesn’t change anything.
“Yes. Yes.” I flex my hips. “Yes!”
“And you like it slow, sweetness?”
“Yes. No. Yes!” I pant. “You never fucked me like this before.”
He smiles with wicked satisfaction. “Wish I’d had the self-control back then. I could have driven you crazy with my cock.”
“Oh!” I surge against him again, but he refuses to be hurried. “You’re doing it . . now!” I tighten the walls of my pussy around him.
He grunts. “Jesus, baby. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I clench around him again, just because I can.
“Oohhh.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re so fucking tight the way it is, it’ll be over way too soon if you keep doing that.”
“You like it?” I pant.
“Yeah. But . . . fuck!” he growls when I do it again.
He pulls back fast this time, slams forward. I scream.
“Noah!”
“You like that, too?” He crashes into me again.
“Yes!”
He starts a new rhythm, the slow and steady mixed with him banging into me like an out-of-control wrecking ball.
A wrecking ball that’s going to break me into tiny little pieces that Noah owns, and I’ll never get back again. Right now, I don’t care, I only want to be his.
“Oh, baby,” I cry against his mouth when he leans down to kiss me. “Yes!”
He shoves his tongue into my mouth, fucks it in and out, and twists his hips just right as he moves against me, in me, and that edge of satisfaction suddenly roars up and over me.
My pussy flutters, clenches, and I thrust my hips up against him as I come. A new, heavier wetness floods between us—my orgasm—but I’m mostly aware of how it feels to have Noah’s cock moving in and out.
Of being so connected.
I still shudder with my climax, and then I’m moving in a different way. Noah flips us around until he’s under me. His cock is huge and hard inside me, and I’m riding him with a fury I can’t control.
His eyes are trained on mine, flashing desire and something more. Excitement. Satisfaction. The love he gave me so recently.
Everything in me softens and yet tightens at the same time.
“I love you, Noah,” I cry, and a tear slips from the corner of my eye. “God, how I love you.”
He reaches for my breasts, squeezes, and then drags his thumbs over my nipples. Rubs soft and then hard. “I love you, too, baby. Only you.”
The touch of his fingers caressing my tits, the way he pinches my nipples again and again, is all I
need to go off again. My clit is engorged, sensitive, and I scream in satisfaction.
My body, my heart, my soul all belong to Noah. I am made to accept his pleasure and to please him.
“Sweetness, I want to fuck you from behind. Hit that spot of yours another way. But not now. I need to watch you when I come. Your face. Your eyes. I need to see everything.”
“Yes!” I’m consumed by the image of Noah looking at me when he can no longer hold back. Of seeing his love and showing him all I have in my heart for him.
“Again, baby?” he growls. “Can you come on my cock one more time?”
“Will you . . . come with me?” I slam myself up and down over him to make my point.
“Yessss,” he groans. “You do any more of that, and I won’t be able to stop it.”
“Good.” I do it again.
I plant my feet on the mattress, firm on either side of his hips as I look for the most balance and control, and then I pound my body up and down. He goes into me so deliciously deep, and I can feel the change in him. His cock is harder, wider, and the intensity grows.
He grabs my hips suddenly, his strength overtaking my movement, and I know he’s close. Shit, I’m close, too, and I use my pussy-tightening trick again. It feels good for him, and I want that desperately.
His hips flex up with renewed power, or maybe it’s his hands holding me in just the right position. He takes a few more strokes, and then one more long, deep, hard thrust, and I’m there.
“Noah!” I scream his name. “Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod.”
My body isn’t my own anymore. It moves against him, clenches around his cock in its own claim of ownership, and robs him of all control. He flips me over onto my back in the space of a heartbeat, and he hammers into me like a fiend.
Nothing has ever satisfied me more.
“Paige!” he cries hoarsely, and in seconds he’s there with me. He pulses hard and long inside of me, the sensation drawing new shudders from me, and slowly, ultimately, he collapses on top of me.
I’m spent. Utterly wrung out. Noah seems to be, too. Our lungs heave with the effort it takes to breathe, and neither of us is able to move. His weight is heavy on me, but I like it. A lot.
It’s the most secure thing I’ve ever felt.
We lay like that for a while—I don’t know how long—and finally Noah moves. I groan as he pulls out of me.
“You okay, baby?” He searches my face, my body in concern.
I smile softly, with so much love. “I’m so fantastic, sweetheart, you can’t believe it. It’s just . . . that’s the worst part. When you pull out.”
“When I’m not part of you anymore.”
His answering smile is tender. He drops a kiss on my lips, climbs from the bed, and slips into the bathroom to take care of the condom. When he returns, it’s with a warm, wet cloth. He cleans me like a dutiful lover, and I feel wonderfully cherished.
Settling back, we snuggle under the covers with our arms around each other and legs intertwined.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers against my hair, and I smile.
“I love you, too, Noah. More than you’ll ever know.” I add the last as a whisper.
He tilts my head back so his eyes meet mine. “I know.”
“Do you?”
“Nobody else has ever done for me what you have.”
I blink. “What did I do? Besides fuck you and suck you and—”
He grins and puts a gentle finger over my lips. “Those are pretty fucking awesome things, I admit, but you did something else.”
I stare at him.
“You saved me.”
“I . . . what?”
“You saved me,” he repeats tenderly. “From myself. I was lost, stumbling through life not knowing what I wanted. Needed. Doing so many things fucking wrong. And then you came back into my life and showed me the way. You showed me how to escape what was hurting me.”
He pauses long enough to smooth a light touch over my cheek. “You gave me my future.”
Tears prickle behind my eyelids. He gives me so much credit. Too much, I’m sure, but I accept the loving words all the same.
They aren’t the kind of things to be denied.
“You’re mine,” I say simply. “I’m yours. I’ll do anything for you.”
“And I’ll do the same. Always.”
Warmth spreads through me, and I stretch up so I can press my lips against his. “It’s settled, then.” I whisper just before his tongue sweeps into my mouth. “It’s ours for forever, my love.”
Epilogue
Noah
“You almost ready, baby?” I call to Paige who’s still in the bedroom. “We need to leave in about ten minutes.”
“Yes! I promise!”
I smile to myself. My girl isn’t high maintenance by any means, but she likes to take a little extra time when we’re meeting the band and all its assorted members. She says London always dresses so classy, it makes Paige feel like a fraud being around her.
Plus, today is special. We’re meeting at Claire Gallagher’s house for a celebration. Triple good news, I hear.
The best news is that Zayne is out of rehab. He entered a sober living house last night, and this is our first chance to see him.
Baz is back, and he and True have decided to move to Austin with us. Besides that, he says he has a surprise for us.
Last but not least is the warehouse. We signed the papers a couple of weeks ago, and it’s officially ours. Rye somehow managed to get permission to begin demolition early, so the interior has been cleared out. The project is being fast-tracked which, in contractor speak, apparently means getting things done twice as quickly. Two crews with numerous trades working all over the place. Word is that the practice and office spaces will be ready to go in January.
We haven’t gotten into any of the rest of it, but now that Zayne’s back with us, we’re set up for a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Rye’s a demon about this place, and his enthusiasm is paying off.
God, how life can change. I want to grin, but I’m already smiling. That happens a lot these days. Having Paige with me has changed everything for me.
Even with all the bullshit we faced.
She comes out of the bedroom, and the sight of her makes me a little breathless.
“Jesus, baby. You look so hot!”
She smiles girlishly. “You think so?” She turns from side to side.
She’s wearing a short denim skirt and a lacy cream-colored blouse. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, just the way I love it, and she’s wearing shoes that show off her maroon-painted toes and have lace bands around each ankle.
“Not sure I want to take you out in public like that.”
She giggles and heads straight for me. Even in heels, she has to go up on her toes to reach my mouth, but we’re used to that. She kisses me quickly.
“Your friends won’t even notice me. They have girls of their own.”
“What about Rye?” I argue. “Or Angel? And you haven’t met Zayne yet. He might take one look at you and try to steal you away.”
“Never.” She kisses me again. “Can’t happen. I’m yours, Beater. You’ll never get rid of me again.”
I love it when she calls me by my band nickname. She’s become so essential to every part of my life.
“About our lives . . .”
Her eyes darken a bit, and I ache to see the uncertainty she tries to blink away. I hate that I haven’t quite healed her of the pain I caused, but I’ll never stop trying.
“What?” she asks quietly.
“Did you talk to Walter?” I make sure to say his name like I’m disgusted. Partly because I am—her boss at The Bridge really pisses me off—but also because I know it will show my support.
She smiles again. “No, I don’t want to talk to that wanker.” She stole the word from London, and it’s her new favorite.
“No?” I repeat.
“I called Irene, actually.”
I lift a
brow. “Oh.”
“Yes.” My girl nods once with emphasis. “I told her that despite their ‘very lengthy and considered process in deciding whether I’m a welcome addition back into the family at The Bridge’, I am declining.”
I recognize the quotes from Walter’s most recent email, and I grin as I pull her into my arms. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”
She nods against my chest with the same determination as earlier and tightens her embrace.
“Absolutely.” Her voice is strong. “I never liked working for Walter in the first place. I loved my time with the residents, but I can always volunteer again.”
“That’s true, but . . .” How do I encourage and protect her at the same time?
“I fell into working there, sweetheart. You know that. It wasn’t a great fit, and they never quite trusted me because of my age. It’s time to move on, and I’m ready to be done with them.”
“I love you.” I kiss her with pride.
“I love you, too.”
“Any ideas about what you want to do?”
“No.” She shakes her head briefly. “Not yet. It’s been fun helping London with her stuff and keeping things organized for Baz. I’ll make sure they don’t need any more help before I make any decisions. I mean, my MBA ought to be good for something, right?”
“It’s more than you need to take care of me.”
She laughs. “Well, yes, that is a full-time job in itself.”
I straighten proudly and grin. “Thank you. I’m working very hard to make that the case.”
We stand quietly for a few seconds, our arms around each other, comfortable and close. I love these moments when it’s quiet and we’re touching, reminding ourselves that we’re together. I think Paige does, too.
We’re opposite sides of the same coin. That weird yin and yang thing she showed me. It feels so fucking right.
I drop a kiss on top of her head. “You ready to go, sweetness?”
“Of course.” She drops her arms from around me and links her fingers with mine. “Let’s go welcome the Wycked Obsession family back together again.”
The End
Playlist
Jungle Boogie - Kool & The Gang