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“Get out,” I whisper-yell, not wanting to wake anyone else up.
“Not a chance of that.” I can see his smirk even in the dim lighting of the room. “I want you to finish what you were doing, little stalker.”
My cheeks flush because I’ve been hoping he somehow missed what I’ve been doing. He prowls towards my bed, lounging at the foot of it like this is an everyday occurrence.
“Go ahead, Sky. Finish what you started. I dare you.”
There’s a challenge in his voice, and his words, obviously, and it must do something to my head because…I take his dare.
I slide my covers down so he can clearly see my hand push under my underwear. The heat of his gaze makes it even more obscene. I’m suddenly much more aware of the ache between my legs, my breath, the beating of my heart.
And how much I wish it was his hand making me come.
My fingers begin to press on my clit, the feeling foreign and kind of wrong. Maybe in time I’ll be an expert at this…but right now…
“You were picturing me fucking you, weren’t you, little stalker?” Noah purrs all of a sudden. And a fucking moan slips from my lips. “You were picturing it was my dick sliding between those legs. I bet your pussy’s the tightest I’d ever feel. There’s no way anyone’s been in there yet.”
I should kick him out, slap him in the face for what he’s saying. But the sound of his voice and his mean, dirty words are acting as tinder for the fire building inside me.
“Is this the first time you’ve touched yourself? Or did you come home after that day in the restaurant and make yourself come? You’re obsessed with seeing me get off…of imagining it was you…aren’t you?”
He purrs the words and a soft moan slips from my lips. “You're delusional if you think you could ever make me come,” I whisper, trying to hold on to some sort of dignity.
“Oh really. Then who are you thinking about right now?” he taunts as my fingers start to move faster across my clit.
“Kyle.”
His name escapes from my lips. Probably because he’s the only one I’ve actually had an interaction with where I haven’t been insulted.
Noah rears back briefly before quickly recovering.
“I don’t want to hear that asshole’s name come out of your mouth again,” he growls.
I would have been thrown off my game, but his thumb has started lightly rubbing my ankle and it’s distracting me from the fluent ‘asshole’ coming out of his mouth.
“Hmm…” I muse, slightly out of breath as I continue to touch myself. It feels good…but I can’t quite reach where I’m desperate to get to.
I’ve crossed the line…no, I’ve crossed the fucking wall. And there’s no way Noah and I are leaving this moment without me getting an orgasm out of it.
Noah would get far too much satisfaction from leaving me wanting.
His hand suddenly grips my ankle tightly and I squeak in surprise. “You think Kyle could make you come? You think he could leave you dripping? Leave you screaming his name?”
The sound of his voice is the sexiest soundtrack I could have playing, quite honestly.
“Answer me!”
“No,” I whimper as the heat flares inside me once again.
“Good girl.”
Another moan comes out because Noah Fontaine calling me ‘good girl’ is almost more than I can stand.
“Say it again.”
It’s official. I’ve lost my mind. I’m lost in lust, drunk on the feeling of power I have from Noah’s attention focused on me like this. And God how I hate him for it.
But I’ve never wanted anything more.
