Page 5 of After the Chase

What is happening to me?

When we get into the empty elevator, Noah presses me against the mirrored wall, one hand fisting in my hair while the other grabs my throat as his mouth crashes against mine, all teeth and possession, his tongue invading like he's trying to consume me whole.

"I know you know what I’m gonna do to him, baby," he murmurs against my lips, his voice dark and empty. "You know what happens. Does it excite you?"

I can’t answer him, as I’m too lost in the moment. My dick hardens, and I hate myself for it. Hate how much I want this, because he is right, it does excite me.

The elevator doors open to our floor, and Noah pulls me down the hallway by my belt, unlocking our suite with one hand while the other keeps me pressed against him. The door slams shut behind us, and he spins me around, walking me backward until my legs hit the bed.

"Strip," he commands. "Everything. Now."

My hands shake as I unbutton my shirt, letting it fall to the ground. I then undo my belt, pushing my pants and underwear down. I'm so hard, my cock jutting out obscenely, and Noah's eyes track over my naked body with that clinical focus that makes me feel like a specimen under glass.

Then he starts to undress.

God, watching Noah undress is like watching a predator shed its camouflage. He unbuttons his shirt slowly, teasing me, revealing the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. His body is a work of art with perfectly defined muscle and smooth skin. His tan glows in the light, making the never ending amount of tattoos on his skin look like a perfect canvas deserving of being shown in any art gallery.

He's beautiful, terrifyingly dangerous and perfect.

His hands move to his belt, and I watch, transfixed, as he unbuckles it with those long, elegant fingers. Rings glint on both hands, a mixture of silver bands on his right hand, and on his left, the simple platinum wedding band I put there in Provence. It catches the light as he unzips his pants, pushing them down along with his boxer briefs.

His dick springs free, thick and hard and already leaking. He's big, longer than average, thick enough that I always feel the stretch, the burn of being opened. The head is flushed dark, a bead of precum glistening at the slit. His cock juts out from a neat patch of dark hair, heavy and demanding, and I want it in my mouth, in my ass, everywhere.

Noah strokes himself once, slowly, his wedding ring glinting as his fist moves from base to tip. "You see this?" he says, his voice low and dark. "This is what you do to me. This is what happens when I think about you. When I think about what's mine."

Noah's free hand comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing my lower lip. "You're always safe with me. I'll kill anyone who threatens that. Anyone who tries to take you, or eventhinksabout you the wrong way."

I believe him. God help me, I’m beyond addicted.

"What are you going to do to him?" I whisper.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, baby.”

His eyes flash and nostrils flare. "On your hands and knees. Face down, ass up. Now."

I obey immediately, turning and positioning myself on the bed. The vulnerability of the position makes my dick throb, my face pressed into the mattress, ass exposed, completely at his mercy.

I hear him move behind me, feel the bed dip as he kneels between my spread legs. His hands grip my ass cheeks, spreading them wide, and I feel his breath ghost over my hole.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmurs. "So fucking perfect. So ready for me."

Then his tongue is on me, hot and wet, licking a long stripe from my balls to my hole. I cry out, with my fingers fisting in the sheets. Noah doesn't ease into it, instead he devours me, his thick tongue circling my rim before pushing inside, fucking me with it in obscene, wet thrusts that echo in the room.

"Noah,fuck—" I gasp, pushing back against his face, chasing more.

He pulls back just long enough to say, "You taste like mine," before diving back in, his tongue working me open with ruthless dominance. He alternates between broad licks and pointed thrusts, getting me wet and sloppy as his hands keep my ass spread wide so he has access to every inch of me.

The sounds are so obscene, wet and filthy, and I'm leaking onto the sheets, my cock untouched and begging for release. Noah's tongue pushes deeper, and I feel myself opening for him, my body surrendering to the invasion.

He pulls back, and I hear the click of a bottle opening. Lube. Then his fingers are there, slick and thick as one finger pushes inside me alongside the wetness from his tongue. I groan at the sensation, the burning stretch, the way he crooks his finger to find my prostate and presses against it.

"You're going to take my cock," Noah says, his voice domineering and full of greed. "You're going to take every fucking inch, and you're going to thank me for it."

"Yes," I gasp.

A second finger joins the first, scissoring me open. It burns, but I push back into it, needing more. Noah works me methodically, adding a third finger, fucking me with them until I'm so loose that I start begging like the whore I am for him.

"Please, please, I need it, Noah. I need you inside me. Please, fuck me," I pant, writhing on the sheets.