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Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(75)

Author:Lauren Asher

My boobs bounce as I move closer to him. I decide he looks entirely overdressed and his boxer briefs need to go. My hand dips below his waistband, brushing against his cock, swiping at the bead of pre-cum on his tip. His body tenses and he groans.

“Let me help you out of these.” I pull at the waistband and drag them down his muscular legs. He kicks them off, exposing me to his naked glory.

My oh my, is it a sight indeed. People rave about American football or hockey players or any other type of sport. Ladies don’t understand how sexy F1 racers are. I pant at the image of Noah standing before me, all his golden skin visible, muscles tensing at my assessment. I was right. He does have rock-hard abs, a fuckable body, and kissable lips. He even has a defined v-cut that I want to run my tongue across. His cock is huge, begging to be touched, licked, and fucked. I’m game for all of the above.

“God. How many hours do you work out in a day?” The question slips past my lips without a filter.

He chuckles to himself, making me glad I got my stupid question out of the way. His body isn’t even remotely fair. I shut my eyes and open them back up to make sure I see everything right.

I bite my lip at the sight of him. He pulls me toward him, ending our eye-fucking session.

“How about I show you how much stamina I build up from my workouts. That’s the most impressive part.” He runs his hand down my spine.

I’m sold.

Our shower remains temporarily forgotten. His lips find mine, his tempo desperate, persistent, and careless. Teeth gnash, bite, and suck. Sensations overwhelm me, making me question if this is too much. I can combust here with a few touches to my center. His tongue strokes mine, invading my mouth and taking me prisoner. Sign me up for this life sentence. My heart hammers in my chest, unable to settle down at Noah’s relentless kisses. Hands grope his body, testing, touching, wanting, and assessing the ridges of his muscles as I memorize every part of him.

His hands find my underwear. Fingers trail the outside until they dip into my core. I groan as his fingers rub against me, making my body pulse with need.

A snapping sound rings over our labored breaths before loose lace falls at my feet.

“You tore my underwear? I’ve never had that happen before. I thought that was a thing in movies.”

His husky laugh turns me on even more.

“I’m not like any of the guys you’ve been with before. I may not be your first fuck, but I might as well be.” His domineering words ignite every nerve ending in my body.

Noah seals his possessiveness with a kiss. He demands everything from me, leaving no room for objections as he shatters any last bits of insecurity about us.

He lifts me in one easy swoop, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the shower. Our lips break contact when he situates us under the waterfall of hot water. Because this is Singapore and the people here are extra as fuck, it pours around both of us from all different directions, like they made this shower with couples in mind. I thank them for their thoughtfulness.

He pushes me against the shower tiles while his mouth finds mine again. Our kisses become lazier, less hurried, as we enjoy the time together. It’s the sweetest he’s ever kissed me before.

He puts me down and grabs the soap bar. His heavy gaze follows the contours of my body as he runs the soap across my skin, starting with my neck. Suds start to pour down my breasts. He spends extra time there as he brings my nipples to two sharp points. His hand creeps slowly down my stomach, making sure to soap up every part of me. My knees wobble at his caresses. But he takes his job seriously, being extremely thorough, learning every curve and dip of my body.

My breaths come out labored as his hands dip between my legs. His fingers find my center, but he remains focused on his task. I moan as he washes me in my most intimate place and cleans every part of me. He continues to lather me, all the way down to my feet.

A comfortable silence cloaks us; the only sounds in the shower include running water and our heavy breathing. Neither of us want to break the moment with words. I copy his same movements, running my hands across his chest, spreading soapy bubbles. I relish in the feel of him, his muscles straining under my touch. He closes his eyes, enjoying my touch, a moan slipping past his lips. Damn, I feel powerful making him feel just as good.

I commit to my cause, soaping him up wherever my hands go, roaming down his body and the ridges of his stomach. He groans as my small hands wrap around his cock. I pump once, twice, until he places his hand over mine.

“Your hand feels so fucking good, but you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. We can wait.”

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