Page 75 of On the Rocks

His free hand gripped my ass, pulling me even more into him, the other working its magic inside me. And when he circled my clit faster, faster, giving me the friction I needed, I completely spiraled.

Sheets and headboard be damned. I flew into the atmosphere, every part of me alive and burning, stars invading my vision as I succumbed to the darkness and panted out each rolling, euphoric wave of my orgasm.

I was floating.

I was soaring.

I was nothing at all and everything I’d ever wanted to be.

My heart was still racing in my chest, breaths loud and heavy in the space between us as Noah slowly climbed his way back up, trailing kisses along the way. When he settled between my already sore legs again, he smirked, brushing my wild hair away from my face and kissing me.

I tasted me on him, tangy and sweet.

“That was hot,” he said, his words reverberating through me. “Youare hot.”

“Noah,” I breathed, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling his mouth to mine. I kissed him long and hard, feverishly, like my next breath had to be syphoned from that kiss. “I want you inside me.”

He let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to mine. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, pulling at him again, nails on his back and in his hair and everywhere I could grab until he pushed off me, standing at the edge of the bed. He kept his eyes on mine, a hard swallow marking his throat as he reached for the band of his sweatpants. He bent, taking them down with the motion, and when he stood again, I forgot my next breath.

I just stared, mouth open, heart stopping along with my lungs before they both kicked back to life.

Oh, God.

I’d felt him against me when he was on top, his erection pressed into my stomach, but even that couldn’t have prepared me for what I was face to face with now.

“Don’t be scared,” he said, worry etched in his brows as he stepped toward me. The monster between his legs was hard and thick in his hand, and he stroked it once, twice, three times before he rounded the bed and sat down next to me. His back was against the headboard, his legs out in front of him, and I edged my way up until my back was against the headboard, too.

He was pumping, swallowing, watching my expression.

I was still staring between his legs.

“Come here,” he said, voice low and raspy. He reached for my hand, and when I met his fingertips with my own, he locked eyes with me, moving us both until my hand was on his shaft.

His eyes closed at the touch. My mouth fell open again.

And slowly, carefully, I wrapped my hand around him and slid it down, down, all the way to the base before I rolled it back up.

A heavy breath broke through his nose, and his hand left mine, reaching for my thigh, instead. He squeezed, letting me explore, letting me stroke him — gently, slowly, his erection growing harder and harder with each pump.

I wanted him inside me.

I knew it would hurt. I knew I likely wasn’t ready to fit all of him in me. But, I wanted to try. Ineededto know what it felt like to be connected with him in that way — nothing between us, no beginning of him or ending of me — just one, blissful being.

I swallowed past the knot in my throat as I released his shaft, his eyes creaking open at the loss of my hand. He watched me with that heated stare as I crawled into his lap, my hands balancing on the headboard behind him as I lowered down.

His thick shaft slipped between my lips, and I rolled my hips, sliding my wet core up and down his erection. Each time I rolled, the tip of his shaft would rub my clit as the rest of him floated between my soaked lips, and I moaned, letting my head fall back at the sensation and gripping the headboard even tighter.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. Prayed? “That feels so good. I’m not even inside you yet. How does that feelsofucking good?”

I moaned in response, still rolling my hips, coating him with my orgasm and feeling another one building in the process. When he was nice and wet, I reached down, bringing my gaze to his as I wrapped my hand around his cock.

“Condom?” I breathed.

Noah wrapped one arm around me, holding me in his lap as he leaned over and dug in the drawer of his bedside table. His hands disappeared behind my back when we were righted, and I heard the tear of the wrapper, felt him pull his shaft from my grip and cover it with the latex, and then, his hands were on my hips again, his eyes on mine, all the control in my hands.

I swallowed, forcing a shaky breath before I reached back again. He pulsed in my hand, hard and ready, and when I lined up the tip of him with my entrance, we both stopped.