I have to stop and look at him for a second.
His chest rises and falls fast. His face is flushed pink from his throat to his hairline, his lips swollen from all the kissing. He’s watching me with his bottom lip between his teeth, like he can’t quite decide whether to be nervous or impatient.
I lean down and press my mouth to one nipple.
Noah exhales in a rush.
I lick it, then suck it into my mouth, and his whole body reacts under me. His fingers tighten in my hair, his backarching off the mattress just enough to make my head spin. I give the other one the same attention, slower this time, because apparently I’m not above torturing both of us.
“Jesus,” Noah curses, and if his ex weren’t sleeping in the room next to us, I’d almost think no one had ever touched him like this before.
I keep going.
Down the center of his chest, over the flat of his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under my mouth. I follow the soft trail of hair below his navel with my lips, lower and lower, until I reach his cock, flushed and wet above his boxer briefs, the fabric shoved down and caught low on his hips.
I look up at him.
Noah’s face is flushed, his eyes bright, his mouth still parted like he forgot how to close it.
God. My pulse kicks up so hard at the sight it’s embarrassing.
Noah shifts under my attention, color deepening. “Stop staring,” he mutters, a tiny laugh caught in his voice.
“I’m not staring,” I say, which is a complete lie.
I move forward and press my mouth to the inside of his thigh, and my God, his skin there is so soft. Noah shudders beneath me, his breath going shallow.
I kiss him a little higher, then pause and look up at him.
“Is this okay?”
The question comes out quiet, barely above a murmur. It’s not just about consent—though that matters more than anything. It’s about the rest of it too. Whether he’s sure.Whether he wants me here like this. Whether this is something he can wake up with tomorrow and not regret.
Noah blinks down at me.
For a second, he looks nervous enough that I almost pull back. But then his gaze drops to my mouth, his lips parting around a shallow breath, and I understand.
He’s not unsure.
He’s turned on enough that he can barely look at me.
He nods.
“Yes,” he says, so quietly I almost miss it.
I hold his gaze for one more second. Then I lower my head and press another kiss to his inner thigh.
Noah’s hand moves back to my hair. He doesn’t push me. His fingers settle there, light at first, then tense, like he catches himself before they can tighten. I can feel the effort in it, how hard he’s trying to keep that touch careful when the rest of him wants to let go.
My pulse kicks harder at the thought of what he’s not letting himself do. Grabbing my hair. Dragging my mouth lower. Making me stop teasing him and take his cock the way he clearly wants me to.
God, I want that. I want his control to snap. I want to be the reason it does.
I move inward, kissing the crease where his thigh meets his hip. Noah sucks in a breath, his hips going still under me as if he has to lock them down to keep from chasing my mouth. I press my lips to the jut of his hipbone, then drag my mouth backacross his lower abdomen, hovering just over his cock without touching.
Close enough that he can feel my breath.
“Connor,” Noah says, ragged.
