God, the things he can do with those lips.
But we don’t have time for any of that. Not with Noah’s parents due to arrive with presents and birthday wishes, expecting a civilized dinner, not a destroyed kitchen and their freshly fucked son.
So this has to be quick, but I refuse to let it be anything less than devastating.
It’s Noah’s birthday, after all.
I grip his hips harder, pulling him to the very edge of the counter. His heels immediately dig into the small of my back, pulling me deeper. The pressure makes me groan, low in my throat.
“I love you,” Noah pants, his hands sliding up to frame my face, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones in a gesture so tender it makes my heart ache even as my hips keep their rhythm. “Love you so fucking much.”
Something possessive surges in my chest.
Even after eighteen months, hearing those words never gets old. Never loses its power to make me feel like I’ve been knocked completely off balance.
“Mine,” I growl, leaning down to press my forehead against his. It lets me watch his face, watch every flicker of pleasure cross his features as I drive into him. “All mine.”
Noah nods frantically, his eyes locked on mine. “Yours,” he agrees, the word catching on a moan as I hit that perfect spot inside him. “Always yours.”
I need him closer. Need to feel more of him.
In one smooth motion, I wrap my arms around his back and lift him off the counter entirely, holding his weight as I keepthrusting up into him. It’s clumsy and not exactly practical, but Noah makes a surprised sound that turns into a moan as gravity pushes him down harder onto my cock.
“Connor,” he gasps, wrapping his arms around my neck for support. “Oh my God.”
I turn us around, Noah’s weight nothing in my arms, and press his back against the refrigerator. The magnets holding up Pumpkin’s vet appointment reminders and our takeout menus clatter to the floor as I fuck up into him, harder now, driven by the desperate need to make him fall apart.
“Look at you,” I murmur, watching his face twist with pleasure. “So fucking perfect.”
Noah’s eyes flutter shut, his head falling back against the fridge with a soft thud. I can feel him tightening around me, can see the flush spreading down his neck to his chest—all the signs I’ve learned mean he’s close. His cock is trapped between our bodies, leaking precum onto both our stomachs, but I don’t touch it. I want him to come like this, just from my cock inside him.
“I want you to come for me,” I whisper, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Want you to paint us both while I’m buried inside you.”
Noah whimpers, nodding frantically. His hands are everywhere—in my hair, on my shoulders, sliding down to grip my biceps as I hold him up.
“That’s it,” I encourage, shifting my angle slightly to hit the spot that makes him lose his mind. “Let go, Noah. Let me see you.”
His whole body tenses in my arms, thighs squeezing my waist almost painfully tight as his orgasm hits. He comes with a choked cry of my name, his release spurting hot between us, painting our stomachs and chests. I don’t slow down, thrusting through it, watching in awe as pleasure rolls over his face in waves.
God, he’s beautiful like this—completely undone.
When the last aftershocks pass, Noah slumps boneless in my arms, his head falling forward to rest on my shoulder. I’m still rock hard inside him, my own release so close it’s almost painful.
“Floor,” I manage, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Now.”
Noah nods weakly against my neck, and I carefully lower us both, laying him down on the soft rug we bought for Pumpkin but that has proven useful for impromptu kitchen sex more times than I’d care to admit.
With Noah spread out beneath me, eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied, I finally let myself chase my own pleasure. I hook his legs over my shoulders, folding him nearly in half as I thrust into him hard. It’s rougher than I’d usually be after he’s already come, but Noah likes it when I’m a little rough with him.
“Fuck,” I groan, watching where we’re joined, where my cock—bare, nothing between us—disappears into his body over and over. The sight alone nearly pushes me over the edge. “You feel so fucking good, Noah. So tight. So perfect.”
Noah reaches up, his hand cupping my cheek.
It makes my heart stutter.
His eyes are clear now, focused on me with an intensity that steals my breath.
“Come inside me,” he urges, his voice wrecked. “Fill me up, Connor. Make me yours.”
