The Fake Mate(72)

His cock bobs free to slide across my stomach, and his groan falls against my tongue when I fist him, squeezing gently before pumping him all the way down to the base.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he says thickly.

I don’t hesitate, locking my ankles behind his waist and gasping when I feel the thick head of his cock notching at my entrance, holding my breath after as he slowly pushes inside to fill me up. I close my eyes to try and focus on the sensation of my body stretching around the hard length of him, and just as I do Noah snaps his hips forward, filling me to the brim as my breath catches.

“Open your eyes,” he urges. “I want to see exactly how you look when you’re taking me.”

It’s a struggle, keeping my gaze level with his as he starts to move—the last shreds of my heat making the room spin a little as I cling to my rationality. Noah braces his hand near my head as he leans on one forearm, rolling his hips again and again as he builds a steady rhythm. I’m too sensitive from all the times before this, already feeling that hot pressure swelling deep inside with every slide of his cock inside me. That warmth in my chest is blooming outward—filling every part of me until I’m nothing but heat, the pinnacle of it all deep, deep inside where that looming pressure threatens to give way like a dam poised to break.

“Noah,” I gasp, gripping his shoulders and undoubtedly adding more marks. “Noah, I—”

“That’s it,” he huffs. “Come for me, Mackenzie. Need you to come for me again.”

My lashes flutter as he growls for me to keep my eyes open, and even with them opened wide, my vision blurs with my impending orgasm, my body drawn up tight like a bowstring, ready to be let loose.

I feel it in my toes first, when it happens, feel it rushing up my legs and into my thighs and deeper like a humming current—exploding in an array of sparks as I start to tremble with it. Noah grunts through it as he dips inside with more difficulty now, and the thickness there only heightens my pleasure, his knot touching me in the best of ways as it locks inside until he can no longer move. I can feel Noah shuddering under my hands, his skin twitching everywhere I touch him like he’s oversensitized, and I rub slow circles on his shoulders as my body melts into a Jell-O-like quality, warm and soft and satisfied beyond measure.

We lie like that for a while in the quiet, the wind blowing gently outside the window and the sounds of our breath mingling in the air. He’s still inside me when he lifts his head some time after, his lids heavy and his blue eyes darker, stormier.

“You’ll need to shift again,” he manages roughly, still sounding a little out of breath. “Otherwise, you might be uncomfortable.”

I kiss his cheek. “There’s time in the morning. Before we go back.”

“Back,” he parrots. He turns his face to let his cheek rest against my breast. “How out of character would it be for me to say I don’t want to go back to work?”

“Terribly out of character,” I deadpan. “I would have to assume you’ve contracted some brain disorder and have started speaking exclusively in gibberish.”

His lips curl, his eyes peeking up at me. “Maybe I have.”

“Doubtful,” I chuckle. “Although, it would make you wanting to go on a date with me make a lot more sense.”

He nips at my breast, and I yelp. “If that’s plausible,” he chuffs. “Then you might be the one with the brain disorder. Maybe I should get you a referral to the neurology floor.”

I can’t help but grin as I take in his dark hair falling into his eyes, making him look younger than he is—moving on to the soft curve of his mouth and further still to the broad width of his shoulders, which still feel somehow larger than life. He really is kind of beautiful, for a boogeyman. The annoyed expression he would surely make is almost worth telling him so.

I shake my head, still chuckling quietly. “Hardly.”

“We should probably get some actual sleep,” he says with a bit of a yawn. “Especially if I’m going to have to chase you down again in the morning.”

“I’m definitely looking forward to making you eat my dust again,” I tease.

He snorts, winding his arms around me as he snuggles closer. “I let you win,” he mumbles.

“Sure you did,” I laugh. “Then tomorrow, I’ll make sure you never catch me.”

“Oh, I will catch you,” he says, sounding amused.

I roll my eyes. “You think so?”

“I do,” he hums, his eyes drifting closed. “I’m not letting you get away from me, Mackenzie.”

My pulse quickens as my mouth parts in surprise, but Noah is already drifting off, slipping into a satisfied sleep as if he hasn’t thrown me for a loop at least a dozen times since we got here. I’m deciding I like the weird heat that comes from the more intimate things that have been happening between us, and even if it’s still a little terrifying . . . I think maybe it could be worth it, if I give it a chance.

I bend my neck to press a kiss to Noah’s forehead, falling back against the pillows after as fatigue seeps in. “Maybe I’m not letting you get away from me either,” I say to the air.





18





Noah





What are we going to do when we get back to work, Noah?