And he did. He loved everything about her.
Fuck. I love her.
How the hell had he let that happen? He waited for the twist in his gut and the feeling like he had ants crawling all over his skin to demand that he sprint from the room and never again think about doing something as reckless as loving this woman. This woman with her novelty purses and incessant humming, her tarot cards and a smile like spring. He waited for the dread to come as he watched her in the mirror and rinsed the toothpaste from his mouth, finding instead a warm glow spreading in his chest, like Christmas morning in front of the fire, or a hot shower on a cold morning. How had he lived thirty-five years without knowing about the glow?
She turned on the shower, the spray splashing over her skin. “Join me?”
He stripped so quickly he nearly fell over getting out of his pants, but he didn’t care—her laughter was intoxicating. He’d make a fool of himself again and again if it made her smile. He stood behind her, doing his best to keep his growing erection from poking her in the back. They didn’t have time to fuck, not that his dick gave a shit about schedules.
When she reached for her shampoo, he stilled her hand. “Can I?” he asked, waiting for the moment she’d bristle, tell him she could take care of herself. She glanced at him with a shy nod, tilting her head back towards him and the glow in his chest grew.
He took his time, massaging the shampoo through her silken tresses, carefully rinsing every trace of suds from her hair. It was one of the most erotic moments of his life—topped only by when he’d shaved her legs a few days earlier, but he hadn’t known he’d loved her then, even if he suspected he had. Funny how that tiny word made everything look different.
The last of the soap swirled down the drain and she leaned back against his chest, the ripe peach of her ass pressing deliciously against his groin as they stood under the shower’s spray. He wrapped his arms around her, banding them across her waist just high enough that his thumb could sweep along the underside of her breast. She sighed happily, wriggling against him. His cock kicked at the friction.
He nipped her earlobe in warning. “If you keep that up, you’re going to make us both late.”
“Promise?”
He groaned into her neck, breathing her in as he dropped one hand between her thighs. She made room for him immediately, releasing another one of those happy sighs when his fingers skated over her swollen folds.
He hesitated, keeping his touch light. “You’d tell me if you needed me to stop, right? If you were too sore?”
She pressed her own hand over his to keep his touch between her legs, reaching back to cup his neck with her other. “I would tell you,” she promised. The pressure in his chest relaxed. He trailed his lips over the column of her throat, admiring the long line of her body, all softness and curves. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Anything.” He drew lazy circles around her clit, angling himself behind her so his cock was cradled by her ass. He rocked against her experimentally, fire shooting down his spine when she ground back against him.
“Orgasms help.”
“Now I know you’re just telling me what I want to hear,” he chuckled, increasing the pressure on that little bud of bliss.
“It’s true. Releases endorphins, which are natural pain killers.”
“Calico, are you telling me that the best way to help you when you’re in pain is to fuck you?”
“Not exactly.” She laughed, a breathless sound that went straight to his cock. “If I’m in a lot of pain, it won’t help and the exertion could make things worse. But if it’s mild—just soreness, a headache—God, that feels good.” She broke off, dropping her head back against his shoulder, moving her hips so they rocked against both his hand at her clit and his cock between her cheeks.
She was so fucking perfect. How had ever thought he could have her in his bed and not fall in love with her? The idea seemed insane to him now.
“If it’s mild…?” he prompted, dipping two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly with his fingers.
“Why do you think I own so many sex toys?” she asked with a laugh.
“You don’t have that many.” He added a third finger, pumping faster now, loving the way she moved beneath his touch, how responsive she was.
“You haven’t seen my full collection.”
“Hmm. Will you show me sometime?” He rocked his pelvis against her harder and imagined what other toys she might have, all the ways he would use them to make her feel good.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Are you close, love?” He knew the answer—her pussy was contracting around his fingers, her hips moving faster as she chased her release—but he wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes. Noah, please.”
“Please what?” he asked, biting her shoulder gently.
“Please fuck me.” She reached behind herself, digging her nails into his thigh and bending forward at the waist, offering herself to him. “I need your cock inside me.”
