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After he’s lubricated himself as well, he places the tip of his cock against my hole, and pushes in a bit.
I expect it to hurt. It does slightly. But it’s the pressure that has me catching my breath.
“Relax, sweetness,” he whispers against my ear. He drops his head and nibbles on my neck as he continues to work himself in.
One push, two, and he waits, giving me time to accommodate him before, in one powerful thrust, he enters me.
I cry out, not from pain but from the intense fullness. And as he begins to pump, his shaft sliding in and out of me easily with the lube, I begin to feel him everywhere. Every cell, every nerve is impacted as he fucks me.
“It’s so fucking tight,” Noah groans. “You feel so good, Emily. So fucking good.”
I’m so sensitive that when he swells just a bit more, he might as well be adding inches to his girth.
My moans grow with my arousal, and when he reaches between my legs and cups my pussy, applying pressure to my clit with the heel of his hand, I come. The echoes of my cries of ecstasy are drowned out by the city noise, but even then, I can’t be sure that someone somewhere didn’t hear them. If they did, they know what real pleasure sounds like.
Behind me, Noah growls, his body tensing as he fills me. For a few moments, he remains inside, pulsing occasionally. When he pulls out, there’s a subtle sting, a reminder of where he just was and the fact that I took every inch of him.
“I can’t believe you just fucked my ass,” I whisper, sagging against him.
He gently cups my knees in his hands and tugs me to him. “Now you’ll sleep well.”
“Mmm,” I breathe out, tucking my head beneath his chin and closing my eyes, lulled by the warm water and the afterglow that comes from being madehis.
Noah easily lifts me from the hot tub and drapes a towel over my shoulders. Then he takes me into the loft and showers me, wiping away the lubricant still on my skin with care.
All the while, I watch him with a contented smile. He’s made it clear he’s going to fuck me any way he wishes. If he wants it from me, he will take it. Not because he’s a bastard, but because he considers me his.
It occurs to me that out of the words I thought to describe him, there’s one I want to use more than any other. Because I want him more than anything. Heart. Body. Soul.
As long as he’s good to me, I will be his. But I also want him to be trulymine.
17
NOAH
Sylvia: Any updates on Jackson Shaw?
Me: When I have any to give, I will message you.
Sylvia: I did some research on him. He has a gallery in Hoboken. And a kid.
My lips tighten as I read the last text from my stepmother. Damn me for forgetting who she is. Francesco’s sister might be willing to let others take care of her, but she doesn’t need it. I should have known that by giving her a name, I’d also be giving her a means to figure things out on her own.
“Noah.”
I lift my eyes to Emily’s. Her mouth pulls up in a smile so infectious, it renders me helpless. Unable to stop myself, I return it.
“There,” she says. “That’s better. You were frowning so hard, I was afraid your brows would get stuck like that.”
Setting my phone aside, I reach for the pad she’s been working on for the last hour. After she convinced me to go for a swim for hours on end and have dinner on the rooftop deck, we came in to lounge on the couch. She lay across the length of it and threw her feet on my lap, locking me into position while she drew, occasionally glancing over the edge of the paper.
“What are you sketching, anyway?” I attempt to snatch the pad from her, but she pulls it out of reach with a giggle.
“You can see it when I’m done. Ah!” she screams and tosses it over the side of the couch when I throw myself on her. “Noah, you brute. It’s private.”
Pinning her wrists to the couch, I spread over the length of her body, pressing myself tightly between her legs. “We’ve done many private things the last few days, but you can’t show me your picture?”
She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me in closer as she nips at my chin. “Didn’t anyone teach you that patience is a virtue?”
