Chapter Sixteen
Noah
Bobbi’s eyes snap open, anger erupting in their depths. “Don’t make me hurt you, Noah.”
“I can think of amuchbetter way to make me shut up.”
I cradle her face and kiss her hard. I thrust my tongue in, claiming her, tasting her. Every nerve in my body tingles, my blood turning thick and hot and my heart racing hard. Just having her mouth on me makes me feel alive. She wraps her hands around my wrists and exerts enough force to bruise, trying to push me away.
I deepen the kiss, stroking her tongue and nipping gently at her delicate, soft lips. She tastes of wine and Bobbi and all the dreams that seem so impossible and beautiful when I lie hidden in the dark with my scope trained on a target. Of the gorgeous, shining vision that made me care about living on that smoking plane.
She doesn’t kiss me back at first, so I kiss her enough for both of us. Drop a hand from her cheek and run it along the smooth slope of her shoulder, then the lean line of her biceps, then cup her pretty breast in my palm.
A low groan pulls from her chest, vibrating through the soft mound in my hand. She lets go of my other wrist and her fingers curl into my hair harder than is comfortable. The minor pain grounds me in the moment, reminding me I’m alive and with the only woman I’ll ever love.
Her mouth is aggressive now, her teeth biting into me like she wants to vent her frustration and anger through the kiss. Laughing softly, I let her unleash it all on me. I want to own everything about her. Her laughter, her tears, her love, her hatred—all mine.
I move her until she’s perched on the edge of the vanity. The mirror behind Bobbi reflects the one behind me, showing an endless row of images vanishing into the distance. Her glazed eyes, her swollen lips, her cheeks now rosy with lust as well as anger. Hot blood pools in my dick, and it begins to ache so much, even the top of my head tingles. She pulls my head down for another stark kiss; I kiss her back, plundering her mouth, while letting her take all she wants. I run my hands along her body, exploring and relearning the lean strength and feminine lines that never fail to incite my lust.
My palm glides along the smooth, warm curve of thigh exposed by the side slit, then slips under the dress. She’s hot, and my blood boils. I want to drive into her over and over again until she’s branded as mine.
I push away the thin strip of her thong, her heated slickness coating my fingers. She whimpers against my mouth, her fingers flexing in my hair like she can’t decide if she should want the pleasure I’m offering.
Oh my light, you shouldn’t just want it, you should crave it, demand it, take it.
I run my fingers along the crease between her thigh and wetness, giving her a moment to decide because it’s ultimately her choice. She pinches her eyebrows as though in pain. Slowly the quivering tension in her legs eases a little, giving me better access.
Good girl.
Her eyes flutter open, glazed and beautiful. Maybe I said it out loud because she flushes. I push two fingers into her hot depths the way she likes, while my thumb toys with her amazingly sensitive clit. She tilts her head back, stifling a moan.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck, sucking and kissing the delicate skin there, as I pump my fingers. My dick is impossibly hard now, my pants unbearably tight, but I ignore it. This is for her. For my Bobbi—my light.
Her pussy tightens, a soft whimper escaping through her closed lips. Little shudders run through her, a sign that she’s climbing higher—she’s close.
I increase the tempo. Watch the pleasure building on her expressive face, her rosy mouth soft, her breathing going shallow and sweat misting over her soft skin. She lets go of my hair and clings to my shoulders, getting ready to ride out the climax breaking over her. No matter how many times I feel her come, every occasion is special. And it’s no different now.
My fingers rub the inner spot that always drives her crazy. She doesn’t hold back her moans anymore as every muscle in her body tightens.
“Noah.” The call is half-plea, and I almost come in my pants. “Noah,” she says again. But this time, it’s tinged with uncertainty and fear, as though she’s afraid I might disappear, just another ghosting act to add to many before.
My love, you know I’ve never disappointed you in bed.
“Bobbi, come for me, baby.” I thrust harder, faster, ruthlessly pushing her higher. Her breathing grows hitched, uneven, a thin sound coming from her throat.
Then her orgasm hits. She wraps her arms and legs around me as she shudders. I hold her tight with one arm, guiding her climax, then pushing another one on her.
She groans against my neck, her scent enveloping me, and I shake with unanswered need. I stroke her back, then kiss her temple, taste her salt and sweetness.
A quiet moment settles over us, like peace after a storm. I hold her, cherishing it and glad I didn’t give up when the plane dropped.
An impatient rattling shatters our delicate intimacy. “Why is thislocked?” a young girlish voice complains from the other side of the door.
Bobbi stiffens, then pushes me away. Her eyes are no longer soft, but hard with self-recrimination and regret.
“Hey. Don’t be sorry about what happened,” I say.
“It wasn’t the smartest thing.”
