“So do I.”
He touched me.
I touched him in return.
The first movements were awkward. Our arms collided. Noah laughed against my mouth.
“It appeared more elegant in the video.”
“They had editing.”
“We need more space.”
“This bed is enormous.”
“Then you are taking too much of it.”
“An outrageous accusation.”
His touch slowed.
My thoughts scattered.
I pulled him into a deeper kiss.
Gradually, our movements found a rhythm. Separate at first, then closer, our bodies aligned until our hands brushed between us.
Heat gathered quickly.
Noah’s breathing roughened.
I watched his face.
Pleasure moved through him without panic following close behind.
That mattered more than the urgency building inside me.
“Still comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Hip?”
“Fine.”
“Shoulder?”
“Fine.”
“Head?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “Stop performing a medical assessment.”
I smiled.
His grip tightened slightly.
My breath broke.
