Noah’s flushed face comes into view. He kisses my lips before smirking, and dragging his tongue through the warm paint on my chest and belly, eating up everything he teased out of me. “You’re so fucking hot, Cade. And I can’t wait to really fuck you. Whenever you’re ready, whenever it feels right. And I’m in no hurry, baby, I’m really not.” He licks my softening shaft, and climbs over me, his knees around my shoulders. “Open up, because I’m seconds away from coming all over this bed, too.”
There’s no hesitancy. I open my mouth and moan when the hot steel of his erection glides over my tongue, leaving salty, tangy arousal in my mouth. His hands in my hair drive me wild, and I hold my mouth open, spit coating my chin, dripping down my chest where he licked my cum off. He uses my mouth for not more than a minute before he’s warning me he’s going to come.
I want to swallow him, but as much, I want to knowwhat being marked by Noah Ryan feels like. So much reserve, responsibility and control in the lecture room. What would it feel like to have his hand in my hair, holding me still for him, like his personal canvas, while he unravels and sprays his desires all over my face?
“My face,” I murmur.
Then his hand is woven through the crown of my hair, and I watch wide eyed, tongue out, heart racing as Noah’s cock sprays ribbons of white hot release over my glasses and nose, up my forehead, onto my waiting tongue, and down my chest.
He curses softly, his words praising and filthy.
After a few minutes of breathing, kissing, touching and recalibrating, Noah peels himself from my back and snags a towel from the ensuite. He wipes us both up, and helps me to the edge of the bed, using the end of the towel to clean my glasses. Tenderly, he places a kiss against my lips then takes a seat next to me, on the edge of my bed. “That was fun.”
I nod. “It was.” I peer up at him, adoring the way his brows pull together as he attempts to adjust my glasses, making sure they’re straight. I catch his hand. “I’m sorry I don’t—I’m sorry we have to move slow.”
Noah kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m not. I like moving slow. I like you so fucking much, Cade, I don’t care how this goes, just so long as it does.”
I nod my head, and together, we decide to go downstairs for water. I pull the glasses down, while Noah catalogues where they are so he can get them next. I pass themto him, and he fills them both, carrying them up the stairs as I turn off lights.
We climb into my bed like we’ve done this a trillion times before, and when I turn off the lights, we come together in the center of my bed so easily, my eyes burn.
Tomorrow there may be things to tackle. A conversation with my father, at the very least. But tonight, in my bed, with Noah’s heartbeat steady against mine, it feels like the beginning of something I never thought I’d find.
He shifts, pressing a lazy kiss to my jaw. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice sleepy.
“Better than okay.” I tilt his chin up for another kiss—slow, sweet, full of everything I’m still too scared to say out loud. Our bodies are spent, but the heat between us simmers, ready to flare again if we let it. For now, I just hold him, letting the connection sink bone-deep.
This is what I waited for.
Him.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
NOAH
God I lovethe inside of these walls. Especially now.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. Sharing an office with Cade has never been a bad thing. He’s organized, quiet, friendly, and respected within the department. It was always a great pairing.
Not to mention, getting to see him within the first hour of my work day, five days a week, without fail. Pure heaven. Knowing when he’s changed body washes or colognes, being privy to his evening plans which he made over the phone sometimes, noticing the way he doctors his takeout or fixes his coffee. More time around him has always been a good thing.
But now.
After I’ve stripped him down and opened him up, afterI’ve shown him how much I’ve been wanting him, told him how gorgeous he is, felt him throb in my mouth, felt him pulse in my hand—sharing an office is foreplay.
Screw the whole foreplay talk I teased him with the other night.
Monday, Tuesday, and today have been the masterclass of foreplay. Simply existing in our normal space, while pretending there isn’t an insane energy ping-ponging between us, acting as if I haven’t torn his pants off and seen his beautiful cock, going about our days like I don’t know what his cum tastes like—has me hot.
And hard.
By the way Cade keeps peeking at me over the top of his laptop, I’d say he feels the same.
I close my laptop and stack my legs over the edge of my desk, ankles crossed. Folding my hands behind my head, I nod at him. He types still, but his focus is on me. “What?”
“You wanna date me? Like, make it official?”
