Punch Laz.
Taste Lark.
Kiss Noah…
Maybe in that order.
No. Not in that order. Tasting Lark is definitely at the top. But I like Laz’s suggestion that we show her what she’s getting into with us.
The episode on the plane was just a way to take the edge off. Laz was violent, but he can do a lot more damage than simply fucking my throat.
And Noah… God, Noah is a damn sadist. He loves pain.
Which is why I know exactly how he would like to be thanked.
Not with my mouth. Not with my hands. But with my submission.
He’ll want to use me.
Raw.
I’ll let him because I owe him my life. And because I know this is what he needs. But it’s going to fucking hurt.
“I don’t need gratitude,” Noah growls, coming toward me again. “Knowing you’re okay is all that I need right now, boy genius.” The variation of his nickname for me rolls off his tongue a second before he grabs me and yanks me into him.
It’s rough.
It’s hot.
It’s overwhelming.
But I give in to his touch and open my mouth for his punishing kiss.
Except he’s surprisingly gentle. Like he’s trying to soothe me. Or maybe he’s soothing himself. Reassuring himself that I’m okay.
But as his tongue continues to stroke mine, I come up with a third possibility. One that has to do with the honeyed slick permeating the air.
Laz told Noah to demonstrate on me, to show Lark what he would do to her.
And Noah is doing just that—he’s showing that even in his violent state, he’ll be careful with her. Sensitive.Gentle.
He’sneverkissed me like this before, and I’m not sure I like it. This isn’t how we fuck. This is… this is how heloves.
I yank back from him, my gaze narrowing. “That kiss isn’t meant for me.”
“I know.”
“Then stop and kissme.” I don’t want to take away from Lark’s experience. That embrace is meant for the two of them. And while Laz may have implied that’s what he wanted Noah to do, it’s not what Noahneedsto do. “Fuck me, Noah. Fuck me or fuck off.”
“You trying to tell me what to do, tech boy?”
Again with the damn nickname.Noah is always switching it up, using different versions to suit his mood.
But he’s not going to distract me from my point. “I’m trying to remind you who you’re touching, asshole.”
“I know who I’m touching,” he says, narrowing his gaze.
“Then why the fuck are you being so gentle?”
