I bite down on my lower lip as I finally plant myself all the way down on his lap, fully burying him inside of me. “Noah,” I whimper, and then lean in, going for his mouth.
He’s hesitant as my lips connect with his, and I try to ignore the pang of rejection that tries to replace the arousal by grinding my hips against him and nipping at his lower lip.
That breaks him open.
His hand shoots up, threading through my hair and holding the back of my head. His lips part, and his tongue canvases my mouth, deepening the kiss. I rock my hips back and forth, hitting just the right spot.
I squeeze my eyelids tighter, the throbbing of my head yielding to the all-encompassing feeling of Noah. His right handslides around my waist and finds my ass, digging his fingertips into me, and adjusting my movement.
“Come on, baby,” he rasps into my mouth. “Ride this cock.”
I whimper into him, and then move faster, the high of my pleasure drowning out everything else in the moment. My muscles tense around him, falling forward, burying my head in the crook of his neck, and inhaling him.
“Don’t give up, Little Rabbit,” he groans, placing two hands on my ass and driving my body as I grow tired. “We’re not stopping until you come all over me and I fill you up.”
“Noah,” I pant, digging my nails into his shoulders as he thrusts upward to meet me. I take all of him, until the ecstasy crests, and I come, my body racked with pain and pleasure—all mixed together.
“Oh shit,” Noah’s voice deepens, his movements growing jerky. He lets out a long groan and then releases deep inside of me, his breath ragged, and pants when he finally stills.
I leave my head resting against his chest, clinging to him as if he’s all I have.
Because really… He is.
25
NOAH
The airinside the stolen SUV is thick with the heat of the desert afternoon and the unmistakable scent of sex, sweat, and Rue’s vanilla shampoo.
And I could fucking drown myself in it.
I don’t want to make it to the border.The thought repeats in my head like a broken record. The border means saying goodbye. It means watching her walk away and spending the rest of my miserable fucking life wondering if she’s safe.
Can I even handle that? Can I let her go after all these years wanting her?
I bury my face in the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her scalp and committing it to memory. She’s curled against my chest in the cramped space of the front seats, her breathing slow and even.
For the first time since I dragged myself out of that freezing lake, my mind is quiet. The paranoia, the phantom sirens, the suffocating pressure of being hunted—it’s all pushed back by the weight of her in my arms.
I was a fucking fool to think I could keep my hands off her. I was an even bigger fool to think I could treat her like a stranger and force her to leave.
Bullet lets out a sharp, impatient whine from the backseat, shattering the quiet.
Rue stirs against me, letting out a soft hum as she blinks her eyes open. She looks up, her jade-green eyes finding mine in the dim, dusty light filtering through the mesquite trees. There’s a split second of hesitation in her expression, like she’s waiting for the mask to slam back down over my face—waiting for me to snap at her or tell her it was a mistake.
Instead, I lift my good hand and brush a tangled strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Hey,” I murmur, my voice rough.
Her shoulders drop, a massive wave of relief washing over her features. She leans into my touch, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Hey.”
“How’s your head feeling?” I notice the way she rubs her fingers against her temples.
“Better, but still achy,” she answers, letting out a sigh. “Your arm?”
“Still of use,” I raise it for her to see.
She lets out a light laugh that hits my chest like a shotgun of contentment, and then smiles.
However, Bullet whines again, this time accompanying it with a paw scratching at the leather of the door panel.
