“You feel so damn good, Blue,” he groaned.
His hands tightened at my hips, guiding the rhythm and coaxing more from me—more heat, more need, more of the ache pooling between us.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my body moving instinctively, chasing the friction, the pressure, and the pure pleasure that coiled tighter with every slow, relentless thrust.
Now his grip slid lower, his fingers digging into the backs of my thighs before he hooked one over his arm, spreading me wider and angling deeper.
I cried out, the sensation almost too overwhelming. But God, I didn’t want him to stop.
Didn’t want this to end.
His hips rolled into mine with restraint, yet his thrusts grew more urgent. He was holding himself back for me, but he was unraveling all the same.
He was so controlled. Always the one taking care of me and making sure I fell apart first before he even let himself think about his own pleasure.
But not this time.
Tonight, he needed me just as much as I needed him.
I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling him to me and capturing his lips in a kiss that was all fire and demand.
“No holding back, cowboy.”
Something snapped in his gaze, a growl slipping from his throat, and then he was gone.
Gone to pure instinct, pure hunger, pure Noah.
His thrusts came rougher, but still perfectly in tune with me, still pulling sounds from me that I didn’t know I could make. His name left my lips, my nails digging into his back, and he groaned, pressing his forehead against mine.
And when the pleasure crashed over me, when my body clenched tight around him, when I shattered in his arms, he followed me down.
We collapsed together, his weight pinning me to the ground. His lips found my temple, my cheek, my jaw as our breathing slowed, as our hearts pounded in sync.
I caught his face in my hands, gasping against his lips. “What the hell are you made of?”
He chuckled. “You tell me, baby. Since you’re the one testing me.”
I whimpered, my fingers digging into his back. God, Ihadtested him.
“We should do this more often, Blue,” he challenged.
“Uh-huh. Maybe in bed next time,” I shot back, adjusting against the ground as it dug into my spine. Not that I was complaining. Tonight was glorious, but still. “And we’re not keeping those gray sheets, by the way.”
He chuckled.
“I’m serious, Lucas. Or your something blue won’t be optional,” I said, giving his balls a warning squeeze.
He tensed with a groan. It either hurt him, turned him on, or both.
25
NOAH
Lunch at The Lazy Moose was never quiet. It was the kind of meal where elbows knocked, plates clattered, and conversation was as rough as the work that came before it.
“Hell of a morning,” Hank muttered, stretching out like he’d just pulled a ten-hour shift instead of four. “Think my bones are older than me.”
I snorted. “You gettin’ soft on us, Hank?”
