Noah goes still for half a second, like the kiss catches him off guard, and panic slices through me. For one awful beat, I’m sure I’ve misread him completely. I start to pull back, already bracing myself to apologize, let go of his wrist, and pretend this never happened. But his fingers curl into my shirt, stopping me before I can pull away. He kisses me back, careful at first, almost like he’s waiting for me to catch up. Relief hits so hard I freeze, my lips still against his. He must notice, because he smiles into the kiss before pulling back a little.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?”
Oh God.
My cheeks burn. This guy is making me feel flustered, awkward, inexperienced—like it’s my first kiss. I snap out of it and pull him closer, my hands finding his waist. Then I kiss him again.
This time, I don’t freeze. I can still taste the wine on him, sweet at first, then faintly bitter, and when he lets out a shaky breath against me, I part my lips and deepen the kiss.
His mouth opens against mine. His breath comes faster as I pull him closer, and all I can think is that I want him. I want to kiss him until he forgets why he was angry in the first place. Until all he can think about is us, and this moment, and how good it feels to give in.
My hands slide to his waist, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. I want to touch more of him.
I turn us, backing him toward the bed without breaking the kiss. Noah’s breath catches when his legs hit the edge of the mattress, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers tighten in my shirt, and he drags me with him as he sinks down onto the bed.
When I settle between his legs, our hips press together, and I feel him through his jeans.
He’s already hard.
So am I.
I kiss him again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against his. His arms wrap around my neck, keeping me there as I press my hips forward and let him feel exactly how much I want him.
Noah makes a soft, desperate sound against my mouth, and it goes straight through me. We’re both still fully clothed, but I already want more. I need more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I tell him, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Noah’s eyes meet mine, surprise flickering across his face. Then his mouth curves into a shy little smile that makes my heart kick hard against my ribs.
“Oh God,” he says, and pulls my face back down to his.
I’m losing my mind with how much I want him. The taste of him, the heat of his body under mine, the sounds he keeps making—it’s all driving me crazy. I roll my hips, grinding against him again, and he moans right into my mouth.
That sound. Fuck. I could listen to it all night.
All my life, actually, but that is probably not an appropriate thought to have right now.
I kiss down his jaw to his throat, feeling his pulse jump beneath my mouth as I drag my lips over his neck. I want to mark him. I want to leave something he can look at tomorrow and know this was real. But I don’t. I only kiss him there, open-mouthed, careful not to suck too hard, because I don’t get to leave proof on his skin without asking first.
Noah makes another sound, his hips jerking up to meet mine. I pull back just enough to find his mouth again, and he kisses me harder this time, like that tiny pause has only made him more impatient. His hands slide over my shoulders, down my chest, then lower, tugging at my shirt before landing on my belt.
For a second, he just holds there, breathing against my mouth.
Then his fingers move, fumbling with the buckle until he gets it open. He goes straight for the button of my jeans after that, and I help him by lifting my hips. Then I do the same for him.
“Fuck, Connor,” he says, the words shaky as we yank at zippers and push our jeans off.
Then we’re finally touching through nothing but our underwear. The heat of his cock presses against mine through the fabric as he rubs up against me. I curse under my breath, and Noah groans, his eyes falling shut.
I press my mouth to his again, kissing him hard as I push my hips forward. Noah moans into the kiss, and we grind againsteach other, the friction of my cock against his making me feel like I could come right there.
We move together, getting more frantic with every second. The front of Noah’s boxer briefs is wet now, dark from how much he’s leaking, and the sight of it nearly makes me lose it.
“Can I touch you?” I ask, my voice rough.
Noah looks up at me, his eyes dazed.
“Please,” he says, like he’s been waiting for me to ask.
