Page 134 of Whispered Promises

My chest’s tight over his sincerity; I don’t know how to respond. The battle of wanting to people please, surges against the horror of being so vulnerable and letting him do something society has told me is taboo. Unsure what to say, I find myself nodding, because apparently saying no to Noah is harder than I thought it would be.

A smile takes over his handsome face as he leans down and presses a soft kiss on the end of my nose. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, joining the dull ache of cramps. But my heart lurches as the familiar sensation of gravity working has a slight trickle leaving my body.

No.

Now Noah will see and freak out. And I’m freaking out over the freak-out he’s about to have.

My breath hitches, and I scramble out of his way.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I need to clean myself up. You don’t need to stay. The cramps are ramping up, and gravity’s doing its thing. But thank you for being so thoughtful,” I ramble as I shuffle over to the toilet paper, trying to avoid opening my legs at all.

My progress is brought to a halt as Noah sidesteps around me, reaching my destination in only a couple of long strides. “I didn’t realise. Sorry. My fault for making you wait. Let me help clean up and get you sorted.”

Closing the lid of the toilet, he drops to his knees, manoeuvring one of my legs onto it. As my legs part, my breath hitches in panic, but he quickly wipes the blood from my entrance and thighs. A hot flush cascades from my face down my chest at the awkwardness of this all, but also at being on display and being touched by him.

Shitting hormones. I shouldn’t find this a turn-on, but I can’t help but feel heat flicker through my core at seeing him on his knees. His concentration’s been firmly on cleaning me up, but I must be emitting some sort of signal, because he glances up and gives me a smile that pulls up the corner of his mouth.

He doesn’t pull away. He maintains the steady brush back and forth with the paper. But the movement is slower, the air charged as his eyes stay locked on mine. Then his finger glides across me, not the paper, but his actual finger.

I don’t move. I can’t. My body’s locked into position, holding steady for him. As his finger makes another pass, I suck my lower lip between my teeth. When it moves again, it’s not the same path, and my eyes flutter closed as he nudges against my clit. He pauses briefly, then slowly strokes up and down.

Holy—

“There’s some research that suggests an orgasm can help alleviate menstrual cramps. Will you let me help you?”

My eyes flash open, then widen. I swallow loudly. Apparently, I’m considering his suggestion.

Who am I?! Where did the real Rosy go?

“I wouldn’t say no…my hormones are all over the place, and what you’re doing feels good. But, Noah, I know men don’t like anything to do with periods.”

He doesn’t answer, and for a second, I think he might leave.

Then he touches me. His hands glide up my hips, and he leans forward to press a kiss to my navel, then stands and places a towel across the sink counter. He grasps my hips again and lifts me, placing me on top of it.

The thoughtfulness has a little more of the tension easing from me.

He spreads my legs wide, missing the dark blush travelling down my chest because he’s staring between my legs. I don’t look down. I’m too embarrassed to see the mess.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with, we can stop straight away. But anything I do, it’s because I want to. Don’t get in your thoughts worrying about if I’m doing something I don’t want to. Just relax and let me help you.”

He wants me to not worry or feel self conscious? This is a turning point, I guess. Do I hold back and turn him away, or do I go for it and trust that he really wants to do this?

Argh.

Okay, fuck it.

Nodding, I lean back onto my hands, trying to relax.

He steps between my legs, affording me the view of his perfectly sculpted face and the gentle waves of his dark combed-back hair.

I suck in a breath as his hand lands on my knee, gliding up my thigh. I’m unable to stop my moan as his fingers slide through my wetness, then swirls my clit. My hips thrust as he teases me, not focusing long enough in either area to give me the relief I’m craving.

“Noah, please. You’re driving me insane.”

I’m being needy, I know it, but I don’t care. Thoughts are blissfully minimal.

“You feel so good. Watching you writhe against my fingers…I want to slam inside you. You’d feel so warm and tight, clenching around me.”