"Stop," I finally manage, tugging gently at her hair. "Too close."
She releases me with one last lingering lick. "Too soon?"
"Not about me," I growl, lift her to her feet, and guide her to the bed. "Your turn."
I lay her back against the pillows and trail kisses down her body. Her skin tastes like peppermint, and I take my time exploring every curve, every dip and swell. When I reach the edge of her panties, I glance up, seeking permission.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly. "Please."
I slide the lace down her legs, settle myself between her thighs. The first pass of my tongue makes her gasp, back arching off the bed. I grip her hips, anchoring her as I worship her with my mouth.
Her soft thighs press against my ears, muffling everything but her muted cries. I lose myself in her taste, her texture, the way she responds to each movement. My world narrows to this single point of connection, this woman whose body fits mine as if designed for it.
When she comes, it's with my name on her lips, her hands tight in my hair. I work her through the waves, gentle my touch as she quivers with aftershocks.
"Come here," she murmurs, reaching for me.
I move up her body, brace myself above her. Her eyes shine brighter than any menorah flame, pupils wide with pleasure and something deeper that makes my chest ache.
"I have to tell you something.” The words tumble out before I can consider them. "There hasn't been anyone else. Since you. There can't be."
Confusion flickers across her face. "It's only been four days, Brian."
"It's not about time." I struggle to articulate the seismic shift inside me. "It's about feeling. I'm yours, Noa. I don't know how or why, but I am."
She cradles my face, eyes searching mine for truth. Whatever she finds there must satisfy her because she pulls me down for a kiss that tastes of both of us mingled together.
"I want you inside me," she whispers against my lips. "No barriers. Just us."
The implication hits me with physical force. "Are you sure?"
"I’m healthy and I’m on the pill. I trust you."
Trust. Such a simple word for something so monumental.
“I’m healthy, too.” I position myself at her entrance, watching her face as I push forward slowly.
The sensation is overwhelming—heat, pressure, and connection without anything between us. I've never done this before, never trusted anyone enough to be this vulnerable. Yet here I am, giving everything and holding nothing back.
I begin to move through her wetness, finding a rhythm that makes her moan. The soft sounds she makes drive me higher and urge me deeper. Her legs wrap around my waist, hands grip my shoulders, nails leaving half-moon indentations in my skin.
"You feel like home," I tell her, the truth spilling from me in the heat of connection. "Every part of you—your shop, your apartment, your body—it's all where I'm supposed to be."
She tightens around me at the words, her eyes wide. I slip a hand between us, my fingers finding the sensitive spot that makes her arch against me.
"Come for me," I urge. "Let me feel you come apart."
Her second orgasm builds slower than the first, a gradual climbing tension that I can feel in every muscle of her body. When it finally breaks, she cries out, pulsing around me in waves that trigger my release.
I pour into her with an intensity that steals my breath. My vision narrows to just her face beneath me. The pleasure is almost unbearable, sharp-edged, and perfect, like nothing I've experienced before. My whole body shudders with the white-hot force of it, arms barely supporting my weight as I try not to crush her.
When the last aftershocks fade, I collapse beside her, pulling her against my chest. Her curls tickle my chin, and her breath is warm against my skin. Contentment settles over me like a familiar blanket I never knew I was missing.
She laughs suddenly; the sound vibrates against my chest. "We never lit the menorah."
"Didn't we?" I press my lips to her forehead. "I think we ignited something…"
She smiles against my skin. "Pretty sure that's not how Hanukkah works."
