His voice is further away now, my attention solely on the heat of him in my hand as I pull him free from his underwear. There’s a little curiosity and a lot of want when I see what all the fuss is about—the velvety skin of his cock sliding under my hand as I stroke down the length of him to meet the slightly thicker skin at the base. It’s only a hint, only a slight premonition of what it could be, I think, but even like this, seeing his knot sets off a fresh trickling of slick between my legs as if my body has a mind of its own. Like it knows what Noah can give me.
And I want it, I’m realizing more than anything else.
I want everything.
I meet his eyes when I lean in, peeking up at him through my lashes when I let the tip of my tongue flick over the head of his cock, and the answering rush of air that escapes him, like he can barely stand to keep still—it’s enough to make anyone feel a little hedonistic. I swirl my tongue there, the taste of him somehow better than the all-encompassing scent of him that has somehow grown sweeter, more irresistible, and all I can think about as he looks at me like he can’t decide what to do with me for the want of needing all of me at once is: This was definitely worth all the fuss.
My teasing is short-lived, his thick fingers grazing my jaw to tangle in my hair so that he can tilt my head back and pull me up into his kiss as he comes crashing down to meet me. I can’t for the life of me say how he gets my bra off—I actually think it might be in two pieces now, not that I’m complaining—but by the time I’m naked beneath him, I realize that somehow he is nothing but heat and hard muscle against me, not a stitch left between us as he settles over my body.
His hips rut against me like he can’t help it, his teeth and tongue still tasting at my mouth and lower at my throat and back again. I feel his breath in my ear when his big body forces my legs to spread wider, his voice low and gravelly when his cock slides against the core of me.
“Tell me again,” he urges, one hand at my jaw as the other pins my hip to the bed, to restrain me or him, I can’t say. “Tell me you want this.”
“Please,” I hear myself crying, my voice nothing like it’s ever been. I’m practically begging. Have I ever begged before? Why don’t I mind? “I want this. So can you just—ah.”
Even with the steady stream of slick I might be embarrassed about at any other time—it’s a stretch. I close my eyes so that I can focus on the delicious friction of it, so I can feel every inch of him as he slowly presses inside me. I gasp when I feel the slightly thicker base slip through, leaving all of him rooted deep as we both struggle to catch our breath just from this.
Even with the bad dates and the busy year and the model trains—I am no stranger to sex. I’m a modern woman who is perfectly fine seeking out what her body craves with whoever she chooses, but this—I don’t think it’s ever been like this. It’s not just the pleasure of it, because there is a lot of that, but it’s also the strange sensation of Noah fitting. In more ways than just this. It’s the odd feeling of being filled for maybe the first time.
And if that’s all from hormones, then they are some strong fucking hormones.
“Mackenzie, I—” His head buries against my throat as his hips flex minutely. “I could fucking come like this. Fuck, it feels good inside you.”
“You can move,” I tell him breathlessly. “Can you move? I want to—oh.”
The first slide takes my breath away, my toes curling as he draws back, only to push inside once more. Again I feel the ever-so-slight resistance that comes from his knot, and I am torn between worry about what it will be like when it swells and utter impatience to have just that. I want to feel full of him, more than anything I’ve ever wanted, for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend. My knees press at his hips, shifting so that I can take more.
“Mackenzie,” he half whines. “I don’t think—fucking hell. I am not going to last. It’s too good. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make you feel good.”
I want to tell him that I already feel pretty damn amazing, but I can’t seem to remember how to make words right now. I pull his face down to mine to kiss him instead, enjoying the feeling of his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts inside me just a little harder. He catches my groan against his tongue as I wrap my legs fully around his waist—urging him to keep going. He holds on to my waist with one hand as he pumps inside me, each stroke making his knot swell just a little more, making it that much tighter as he forces it back inside again and again.