“I’m going to fucking fill you up, Sidney. Have you swollen with me.”
Something in my brain short-circuits.
“That’s what you want, right?” His fingers move in a come-hither motion, “To be pumped so full of my come.”
My teeth sink into my lower lip.
“Say it.” He demands, eyes feral, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
“Yes,” I manage to whisper.
“Then you’re mine until that happens.” He twists his hand, curls his fingers, and the orgasm is so sudden and hard, it has tears springing to my eyes. I cry out his name, fingers curling into the cushions so tight they ache.
He helps me through it, and before I’ve even stopped twitching, he’s gathering me up and dragging me onto his lap, tightening his arms around me. I bury my face into his neck, inhaling his bergamot and black pepper scent, a soothing aroma I seek out whenever I can.
I’m not sure where the emotion comes from, or the hot, fat tears that burn my eyes, but it overwhelms me. Noah just tightens his arms, brushing a hand down my hair.
“I’ve got you,” He whispers, “I’ll always have you.”
Chapter Eight
Iroll over, my body aching in places it hasn’t ached in for a long time. The room is dark, quiet, and I know I’m alone in here, the space beside me cold and undisturbed. I don’t remember Noah putting me to bed; the last thing I recall is being curled up in his lap, cocooned in the safety of his arms as I broke down.
He held me as my shoulders shook with the weight of the tears; tears I have no idea why fell. Who the hell cries after sex!?
Sitting up, I wince as muscles strain, my thighs especially, and lean back on the headboard to rub the sleep away from my eyes. The clock on the bedside table reads a little after three in the morning. I’m dressed now, the fabric soft under my fingers. Likely one ofNoah’s shirts, but I feel sticky and hot and desperately need to use the bathroom.
My knees wobble a touch as I climb from the bed, padding to the door that’s been left open an inch. No light leaks in through the gap; the apartment beyond is sleeping. Across the hall, Noah’s bedroom door is closed.
There’s a twinge in my chest, a sense ofwrongnessthat has my skin prickling in response. There’s been a handful of occasions where Noah and I have slept in the same bed, obviously platonic, and it wasn’t a big deal. But he put me to bed in his spare room after I fell asleep on him, and that just…
He just fucked me to tears—literally, but didn’t think to lie with me? I shake my head. It’s not a big deal. This isn’t a real thing after all; we’re just doing it as a means to an end, right?
Still, it makes my heart ache a little.
I want to say it was all a mistake, that I knew even giving an inch would hurt me in some way, but I don’t regret it. I don’t regret letting Noah have that part of me. I don’t regret how he made me feel.
I close myself away in the main bathroom and turn on the faucet, catching my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are a little rosy, my mouth swollen, and there are little red marks on my neck, evidence of everything we did on that couch. Filling my palms, I splash cold water onto my cheeks and then plug the basin so it can fill.
Stripping off the shirt and boxers Noah put me in, I grab a cloth and begin to clean myself, washing away the dried sweat that makes my skin feel too tight. I’mexpecting to find stickiness between my legs, the evidence of us leaking from me still, but I’m clean… well, mostly.
Did he… Did Noah clean me up? My cheeks burn at the idea of him doing that.
“Really, Sidney,” I tut quietly, mumbling to myself, “The man just had your ankles on his shoulders and was real up close and personal with all your lady bits.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, stomach clenching as flashes of memories light up the front of my mind. The way his muscles flexed, rippled as he worked me, the way his cock stretched me open and went so deep I had no sense of my own name.
Who knew Noah was such agodin the bedroom.
No. It makes sense actually.
Shaking my head, I grab a new cloth and wet it, running it over the nape of my neck in the hope it’ll ease the neediness rising up.
I place my clothes back on after I dry myself off, careful with the tender spots, and empty the basin, tiptoeing back out of the bathroom. I return to the spare room, pausing only for a second outside Noah’s door.
No sound filters out from the room, and my fingers itch to press down the handle, to peek inside, but I don’t. Instead, I shut myself away in the room opposite that feels a million miles away, and I lay awake until the sun crests over the city.
Sneaking out before Noah even woke isn’t something I do often. Not even being late for work would have me leaving without our morning coffee, but the moment the sun was up, I was gone.
