His second response was spoken directly into my skin. “You’re not alone, wife. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”
Noah tugged the sweater over my head as he walked me toward the bed. He yanked my jeans and underwear down, kicked them free from my ankles while I unclasped my bra. With a hand between my shoulder blades, he bent me over until my cheek was flat on the quilt.
I was aware of every inch of skin on display, every quiver and kick of my internal muscles, every breath puffing out of me.
A sliver of doubt shivered through me. This felt wrong. Or, more specifically, it felt like it should be wrong. I shouldn’t spread my legs wider. I shouldn’t press up on my toes. I shouldn’t rub myself against the quilt. I shouldn’t want it like this.
That shiver grew into a gasp, a throb, a shudder when I heard the rattle of his belt, the rasp of his zipper. His jeans hit the floor and then his shirt.
“I want to keep you like this,” he said, skating a finger down my spine, between my cheeks. “But not this time. No, this time, I need to see you.”
He moved closer, held my hips, rocked against me. He hadn’t stripped off his boxers yet.
“Give me a second,” he said as if he could read my mind. “Your ass is shaped like a heart and I can still taste your pussy on my tongue. I need to pull myself together, Shay.”
I grabbed at the quilt, tugging it down to reveal smooth blue sheets.Nicesheets too. “Pull yourself together under the covers,” I said. “With me.”
He released me with a groan that seemed to violate all the regulations on quiet. I climbed into the bed, between the cool linen sheets, and held out my hand to him. He didn’t take my hand. He prowled toward me on his hands and knees, tossing back the sheets as he came, his gaze midnight dark and jaw locked like he was seconds away from snarling.
This was my first chance to get a look at him without clothes, andwhew. Did not disappoint. He had a glorious farmer’s tan, his upper arms and shoulders pale while his forearms were sun-kissed. His chest was wide and strong, a bit of dark fuzz there and running down the center of his abs, which led me to—
Oh my god.
I reached for the erection tenting his boxers, closing my fingers around him and giving him long, thorough strokes while he dropped his head between my breasts. It felt good being the one doling out the torture for a minute.
“Shay,” he gasped. “Sweetheart, you’re going to kill me.”
“I don’t think so.” No one with a shaft like this could die from a few strokes. That was absurd. Almost as much as him walking around with an almighty baseball bat in his trousers and keeping it all to himself. “Have you always had this?”
He lifted his head and gave me a wry grimace. “As far back as I can remember, yeah.”
I twisted my hand over his crown and back down again. A triumphant smile broke across my lips when he sighed foul curses into my breasts. “And you never thought to mention it?”
“Tell me how that conversation would go. Something like ‘Hey, hi, welcome back to town, want to see if you can get your fingers all the way around my cock?’ I can’t see you loving that.”
I pushed the boxers over his hips. He kicked them away. There was nothing else between us now, and here, beneath the sheets and the quilt, there was nothing else in the world. “Maybe not the initial conversation but definitely one we should’ve had within the first month or two.”
He laughed and it seemed to recover some part of his resolve. He pressed my legs open with his knees, planted his hands beside my shoulders. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
I was shaking but only on the inside. Noah couldn’t see it. It was better that way. He’d stop if he knew about the simmering in my blood and all over my skin. He’d hold me close and demand an explanation. An accounting of this situation. But I didn’t want that. I didn’t need that. I needed him to take charge the way he did in the kitchen. In the truck. Everywhere.
I gave him a squeeze. “I have some idea.”
“And what about you?” he asked, his gaze unfocused as I worked him. “What do you want?”
I dragged him through my wet heat, sliding back and forth until he bucked into my hand, until he leaned down to groan into my breast. “This,” I said, notching him against my opening. “I want this. I wantyou.”
He stared between us for a long moment. “I’m gonna bite that thigh when I’m done with you.”
I released his shaft to draw my fingers along the crease where my leg met my ass. “Right here?”
“Right there.”
He slipped his hand around the nape of my neck and his thumb settled low on my throat. It was exactly what I needed. I wasn’t falling apart anymore. Wasn’t floating away. I was here and I didn’t have to think about anything other than the pressure building in my body, the unreal desire I felt to have him inside me.
I lifted my hands to his biceps and held tight to him as he pushed into me. We groaned together, both of us shushing the other with our eyes. My lips parted on a gasp and everything behind my eyes turned white as he stretched me. “You are…huge.”
A noise rumbled in his throat. “You can take it.” He reached behind me and grabbed a pillow. “Hold on to me,” he said, pressing deeper while lifting my ass to shove the pillow under me.
