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His hand lands on mine so I can’t slide down the zipper. “Nah, I need to be inside you.”
He stands and pulls me up by my hand, wrapping his arm around me and lowering me to the bed. He stares at me for longer than I’m comfortable with, and I squirm.
“Now that you have me in the bed, what will you do with me?”
“I’d like to kidnap you, so I never have to live a day without you.” He flicks open the button of my pants. Then he unzips them, and I lift my ass so he can tug them down my legs and dispose of them on the floor. “I love these panties.”
He trails his knuckle along the wetness of my panties like he always does. Like someone dipping their toe into the pool before they plunge. I open my legs for him, and he slides the thin fabric over, exposing my pussy to the cool, air-conditioned room. His finger brushes along my clit, and our eyes lock, his filled with a hunger I’ll never get tired of.
“I love fucking you,” he says.
For a moment there, I thought he said I fucking love you and I just about stopped breathing.
I bite my lip and he undoes his pants, allowing them to pool at his feet.
“I want your ass up in the air.” He takes my hips and flips me around so I’m on my stomach. His fingers hook in both sides of my panties, and he drags them down, leaving them at my knees. “Spread those legs, beautiful.”
I do as he says.
He climbs up on the bed and runs his cock through my folds, wetting the tip before pushing into me.
“Noah,” I pant.
His one hand lands on the small of my back and he thrusts inside me. “Always so wet for me. Tell me I’m the only man who makes you this drenched.”
“Only you,” I say.
And in that fancy hotel room, Noah fucks me like he never has before. As if he owns me. I can’t deny that a large part of me will stay with Noah after he leaves, because I’ll never be able to forget these moments when he made me feel so sexy and desirable.
When we’re finished and he comes inside me, we both crash on the bed for a moment before he cleans me up with a washcloth from the bathroom.
“I really don’t want to leave this room,” he says, getting dressed.
“Me either, but for a massage, I think it might be worth it.” I begin to dress too.
“You want someone else’s hands on you other than mine?” He kisses me briefly while retrieving his shirt.
“Never, I’d pick your hands over anyone else’s.”
He winks. “Good girl.”
I allow my words to soak in because pretty soon, no one’s hands will be on me because he’ll be in Southern California with a bunch of surfers.
