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“Fuck,” he breathed.
Without overthinking it, I dropped to my knees and tugged his sweats down.
“Aurora—”
“I want to.” I gazed up at him, my skin vibrating with anticipation. “I want to taste you.”
“Shit, yeah… okay. But if you don’t want—”
“Noah?”
“Yeah, shortcake?”
“Stop talking now.” I closed my fist around him again and flattened my tongue, running it along the underside of his shaft.
“Holy shit,” he rasped, sliding his hands into my hair, tugging gently, sending bolts of desire shooting through.
“Tell me how you like it.”
“Like that.” He inhaled sharply as I licked him again. “Use your tongue and your mouth. Worship my cock, babe.”
“Noah!” I shrieked, my cheeks burning.
He chuckled. “You love it.”
Yeah. A little part of me did.
Noah didn’t treat me like glass. He was respectful and patient, but he didn’t pander to me. And I appreciated that. I liked that he pushed me out of my comfort zone.
Taking him into my mouth, I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him down, testing my gag reflex. I couldn’t fit him all the way, but I did my best, using my hand to compensate.
“Yes, fuck… yes,” he choked out as I choked on his dick. But there was something powerful about having a guy like Noah Holden at your mercy.
I pulled off him, and his salty taste flooded my mouth, but I didn’t let that deter me. Swirling my tongue around the tip, I jerked him with my hand before taking him into my mouth again, letting the tip of his dick hit the back of my throat before I came up for air.
“I’m so close, baby.” Noah’s fingers tightened in my hair, his hips bucking a little as I drove him wild. “Jesus, shortcake,” he praised as I worked him faster, following the signs of his body, his moans of pleasure.
“Gonna come… fuck, I’m gonna—”
He tried to pull away, but I grabbed his thigh, anchoring us together as I swallowed him down.
“Fuck… fuck.”
I smiled up at him, feeling strangely proud of myself.
“Up you go, shortcake,” he said, yanking me to my feet. Noah pulled me into his chest, his mouth capturing mine in a bruising kiss. He didn’t care that he could taste himself. In fact, it only seemed to turn him on more.
“That.” Kiss. “Was.” Kiss. “Amazing.”
“I owed you,” I said.
It was a joke, but his expression dropped.
“Owe me?” He cupped my cheek. “Let me make one thing clear, shortcake. This isn’t transactional. You never owe me anything for making you feel good. I need you to understand that.”
“I…”
“This thing between us is not a business arrangement. Got it?”
