Page 84 of Before We Break

Noah is a work of art. I’ve known that for a long time, based on what little I’d already seen of his tattoos, but his chest is something else. There’s a large luna moth spanning half of his torso that looks very similar to the Lunar Ink logo. I make a mental note to ask about it later.

Balling up the fabric, he playfully tosses it in my general direction. I catch a hint of his delicious scent as the fabric soars past me, but the sound of his zipper draws me back in. His jeans drop and he kicks them off to the side until he’s standing there in nothing but a pair of black briefs and white socks.

I giggle at the sight.

“That’s not exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he grumbles.

“It’s the socks. You just look so… cozy.”

He hops on one foot and tugs off the first, then the second, and tosses them to the side. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I say dreamily. I let my eyes wander over every bit of his mostly naked body, skipping past the rather large bulge between his legs.

He has a thigh tattoo. Some kind of script I can’t make out from this distance.

“I can feel you ogling me,” he says amusedly.

“Can you blame me? You’re… you.”

He huffs out a breath through his nose and crooks his finger at me. “Put me out of my misery, princess. Let me feel you.”

I pad toward him, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. When I’m close enough to touch, I trace one wing of his moth tattoo with my index finger, causing his abs to flex.

“Can I touch you?” he whispers.

In answer, I take his right hand in mine and lift it to kiss his open palm before placing it over my left breast. His breath catches, and his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks like it’s taking all of his self-control not to open his eyes.

He gently caresses the soft swell before skating across to give the other side equal attention, then his hand travels down my sternum to my squishy belly that hangs slightly over a raised C-section scar. “Tell me if you need me to stop and I will.”

“No. Don’t stop.”

His head tips forward and he kisses my collarbone, a second hand joining the first to explore every slope of my ample body.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against my skin.

I thread my fingers through the hair at the base of his skull as he nips and sucks across my chest and neck.

“I want to see you.” His voice carries a husky edge to it now, like his restraint is dangling by a single thread that, if pulled, could unravel us both.

It’s then that I realize… I want to be unravelled.

“Ok. I’m ready.” The words come out breathy as I put some distance between us, reaching behind my back to unclasp my bra with more confidence than I feel.

His eyes open as it drops to the floor at my side, leaving me in nothing but my ridiculous strawberry panties. If I’d known this was a possibility, I would’ve chosen something less… fruity.

My hands tremble as his gaze rakes over me from head to toe, making me feel more vulnerable and exposed than ever.

“Fuuuck, baby.”

His gruff voice reverberates through me, and my pussy flutters in anticipation. He sinks back on the bed, bouncing with the force of his movement. “Come here.”

I step between his spread thighs, nervous energy ratcheting up my pulse.

He kneads my ass and presses a trail of kisses against my marred stomach, and I close my eyes to revel in the tenderness of the moment. Each brush of his soft lips feels like an affirmation.

You’re beautiful.

You’re strong.