Page 9

But he tugs at the hem of my dress until I wriggle enough to let him lift it over my head. I should probably stop him, but instead, as he drops my dress to the ground, I quickly reach behind and unfasten my bra. The next moment it joins my dress on the floor and my pink, peaked nipples are practically crying out for his attention.

“Why’d you have to be so fucking wet?”

“You don’t like it?”

He laughs. It’s a short, harsh sound. His breathing is ragged, and he leans closer, dipping his head toward my breasts. “No, I bloody love it. It’s my weakness.”

Then his mouth closes over my nipple and my back bows. My mind switches off entirely for a good few minutes while he plays with my breast and teases my nipple. He circles the sensitive peak with his tongue. He flicks it with his lips and teeth. He works me into a frenzy until just as I think I can’t take it anymore, he moves to the other breast.

If he thinks I was wet before, he’s seen nothing. I know without looking my panties are soaked. Drenched. Flooded.

Lucky he is supporting me with a hand on my neck, because otherwise I would have melted into a puddle on the floor by now.

A firm touch tugs aside my panties. It’s not his hand. It’s his tentacle. It doesn’t matter. It feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven when he slips the tip through my wet pussy lips and slides it carefully over my clit.

I cry out.

He repeats the motion. It’s too good.

I’m quivering in his arms, pleading with him in incoherent sounds.

“Shh. I’ve got you. You need this don’t you?”

I nod.

His tentacle slips to my entrance and I part my legs wider.

“Do you need to come, gorgeous?”

“Yes. Oh god. Please!” I’m whining, but I’m beyond caring. I don’t think I’ve ever needed anything more.

I can’t question it any more when he nudges inside, the tip finding the perfect angle as he suckles again on my breasts.

A few more quick strokes inside my pussy and a tug of his mouth on my nipple, and I shatter. I clench around him. My body shakes. I clutch desperately at his neck as the spasms overtake me and my legs convulse. The second wave of pleasure makes me seize up, and by the time it eases I’m gasping for air.

We’re both breathing hard.

Noah slowly withdraws from my body. He dips his head, eyes pressed shut for a long moment. “Fuck.” He shakes his head. “Your man was a fucking loser for throwing this away.”

My man!

Oh god. Those words don’t seem to connect to Justin. Not after today. Not after that.

But Noah’s right. Even though he let me down, Justin is still my boyfriend. And what have I done?

I pull back, and the look of horror on my face must be obvious. Noah’s brows, already drawn into a frown, close tighter together. “What is it?”

I’m shaking my head. My throat is tight and I can’t seem to form the words. “He hasn’t. I mean not yet. I mean we haven’t—”

Now it’s Noah’s turn to pull away. He steps back, lifting his hands as if he’s been burned. “You haven’t what? Spit it out, Olivia.”

I cover my mouth with my hand and the words come out muffled. “We haven’t broken up. Not officially. We haven’t really talked.”

Noah curses. “No. No fucking way. Not again.”

I can’t make sense of his words and he doesn’t give me a chance. Before I can speak again, he turns and hurries from the room. “Let yourself out.”

The doors to the restaurant swing violently behind him as he leaves.