Noah’s fingers tightened over mine.
“Again.”
I stroked us slowly.
His hips pressed forward.
The contact intensified.
He buried his face against my throat and made a sound that went directly through my chest.
My free hand spread across his back.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
“Any fear?”
“No.”
“Pain?”
“No.”
“Do you want harder?”
“Yes.”
I increased the pressure.
Noah moaned against my neck.
Our hands moved together.
Neither giving.
Neither taking.
One rhythm.
His skin was hot against mine. His breath struck damply along my throat. Every stroke dragged us closer, pleasure gathering until thought became difficult.
Noah lifted his head and kissed me.
It was messy now.
Open-mouthed.
Breathless.
His tongue moved against mine while our joined hands worked between us.
His body trembled.
“Cal.”
“I’m here.”
