Hepushes my legs back together and pulls my hips so I lay down flat on the bed, then he straddles my waist and grabs my breasts, massaging them and teasing my nipples. They harden within two seconds of him touching me.
“Love your tits,” he mutters, dipping forward to suck on my nipple. “I’m going to fuck them.”
“What?” My surprise isn’t hidden.
He moves back and drags his cock up my midriff, letting it rest on my chest. Then he presses my breasts together, trapping it between them. “Like this.”
He pauses and leans over, grabbing a bottle from the bedside drawer. I watch as he pours the lube over himself and it dribbles onto my chest.
My heart is pounding as he tosses the bottle, then massages me, before trapping his cock again. I clutch the sheets as he starts to thrust, slowly at first, his eyes locked on mine.
I’ve never done this before but watching the intensity of his beautiful face as he starts to thrust a little harder has me melting into another dripping wet puddle. I shift my hips trying to get a little relief for myself.
Noah is so lost in what he’s doing he doesn’t notice that I’m close to telling him to fuck me properly.
“Hold them,” he tells me, grabbing my arms.
I push them together and he grabs the headboard and starts fucking himself harder in the channel I’ve created. When he groans and tips his head back, warmth gushes over my chest and throat, spilling down my neck.
I don’t even care that he came all over me, especially when he pulls back and starts to rub it in, holding my neck as he leans in to kiss me. He doesn’t stop, laying himself flat over me, his tongue rolling with mine.
It’s not hurried or charged with lust like his other kisses have been. It’s consuming and makes me feel lightheaded. I grip his hips, partly to anchor myself to something real, because this kiss feels different to anything else we’ve done. More intimate than him being inside me.
Eventually he slows and dots open-mouthed kisses on my cheekbone and jaw. I’m convinced he is about to lap up his own cum when he pulls back. He takes my good hand and lifts me up so we’re standing bythe bed.
He gets a feral look in his eyes as he stares at my collarbones. He almost says something but clamps his lips together and leads me to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and encourages me inside. I’m somewhat disappointed when he doesn’t join me, but it’s probably for the best.
Something in the way he looked at me makes me need space. I’m certain he feels the same.
When I get out of the shower, the bedroom is empty but my clothes are laid out. I stare at them, knowing what that means. I’m stupid for being disappointed. He’s made it clear what he’s like.
This felt like more than sex, more than it was last time.
Maybe that’s why he’s doing this.
A noise at the door startles me. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, watching me as I try to pull back the thoughts of him not wanting this to continue.
“I got a call,” he says.
“Oh, right.” I turn my back to dry myself off and pick up my underwear.
The warmth of his body makes me straighten up. He’s right behind me and he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me back to his chest.
“Believe me, I’d rather stay here but like I told you before, the club always comes first.”
I twist my neck so I can look at his face. I see it in his gaze, he’s telling me any life with him would be this way. What surprises me the most is that I’m not upset about it. Not now he has pulled me against him.
There could come a point when he leaves me in his bed to go. Stupid, stop it.
He brushes my damp hair back then kisses my forehead. “Get dressed, Cherry. I’m not leaving till your safe in your car.”
“It’s just outside.”
“Don’t argue with me.”
“Yes Mr. President.”
He frowns at that and I feel like I massively messed up. In my head it was supposed to be like a kink thing. When it comes to his club, I guess there is no joking around. He taps my ass and tells me to get a move on, then heads out to let me get dressed.
