His mouth twitched up into a knowing grin, and a look of approval crossed his face.
He lowered his mouth and his tongue slid over my clit. I couldn’t take it anymore. I moaned and writhed on the bed, trying as best as I could to push myself against him.
He must have decided to take pity on me, because even though I was breaking the rules, he moved faster, licking me, tasting me, his mouth devouring me. The motion became rhythmic, and soon I was riding that wave again, feeling my orgasm building and ready to wash over me.
I pulled down on my restraints, holding them tight, tensing and waiting for the release. I was so close to the edge, and I was afraid if he stopped I might go insane, but he didn’t. He kept going, his mouth moving faster, the pressure building until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I cried out as I came, and he held my hips steady as he moved his lips, his tongue, his fingers against me. Wave after wave of intense pleasure pulsed through my body, seeming to last forever.
When it was over, my body relaxed, every one of my muscles turning to jelly. My breath came in ragged gasps. I had never felt such pleasure, never felt so sexy, so desirable, so turned on.
But Noah wasn’t done with me yet.
He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. His chest was broad and chiseled, gorgeous pecs and ripped abs that slid down into the perfect V of his hips. He shucked his pants and boxers next, his huge cock standing at attention.
He laid his body onto me, and wrapped me around him, making me feel small and vulnerable. Then he stripped me, starting with my shirt, sliding it slowly down my shoulders before unhooking my bra.
He leaned my body back, cupping my breasts in both his hands and pulling them into his mouth. I could feel his cock, hard against my wet panties, which he’d pushed to the side when he’d been licking me. It rubbed against my clit, and I started to get wet again as he sucked my nipples.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said. He laid me all the way back on the bed, and pulled my panties off, then grabbed me and pulled me back up so that I was sitting in his lap. He slid me down on his cock, holding me steady so that even though I was on top, he was still the one in control.
I wrapped my legs around him and he pulled me close, filling me with his dick. He moved inside of me, guiding me, moving me up and down on his rock hard cock.
I could feel another orgasm building inside of me, even though I’d just come a minute ago.
“Fuck me,” I breathed. “Please, Noah, fuck me.”
He began pumping into me, drilling me harder and faster. We were both breathing heavily, our bodies falling into a perfect rhythm.
“I’m going to come,” he groaned, shuddering as he came. As I felt the first spurt, I came too, my pussy contracting on his dick as he shot inside of me.
We collapsed onto the bed, spent.
I went to grab the blanket and pull it over me, but Noah grabbed my hand gently. “Don’t,” he said, sliding a finger down my side. “I like looking at you.” He gave me that same look, his eyes raking over my naked body, the desire evident on his face, even though he’d just had me.
After a second, he got up and disappeared into the master bathroom. He returned wearing a pair of gray cotton pajama pants and no shirt. The muscles of his arms bulged, and I took in his body, marveling at its beauty, and trying not to feel intimidated.
He crossed the room to his dresser, pulled out a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts which he set on the bed for me.
He kissed me forehead. “Get dressed,” he said. “And then meet me in the kitchen.”
He left and I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. I could not believe this was happening. I, Charlotte Holloway, had had sex twice in one night, with the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. And he’d made me come three times. I’d had orgasms before, but not like this. This was…just… I didn’t know what this was.
I’d never thought that sex with someone you didn’t know could be so amazing. I’d always thought that you needed to have some kind of a deep connection, that you needed to be emotionally invested in the person in order for you to experience this kind of physical pleasure.
Was that just what I’d been taught to believe, as a woman? That we needed to be emotionally connected to our partners? Was it all a fallacy? Was it possible that you could just have mind-blowing sex with someone you barely knew?
It seemed like it.
After all, this was the best sex I’d had, and granted, I didn’t have much to compare it to. But still.
I looked at the clothes Noah had left for me. I picked them up and took them into the bathroom. I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was slightly disheveled, my face flushed. My wrists had faint red marks on them from where he’d tied me – I wasn’t sure if it was from just now, when he’d tied me to the bed, or if it was from earlier, in the alley, when he’d tied me with the candy bracelet from Cora’s bachelorette party. That was just a few hours ago, and yet it seemed like forever. So much had happened in such a short time.
I started pulling on Noah’s boxers, wondering if they were going to fit. I could never borrow Dan, my college boyfriend’s, clothes because I’d always had to worry about them being too small. I had big boobs, a big butt, curvy hips. But Noah’s t-shirt and boxers were baggy on me. I breathed in his scent and then shut the light off and went to find him in the kitchen.
When I got there, he was peering into the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.” I sat down at one of the stools that was in front of the marble breakfast bar. Everything in Noah’s kitchen was sleek and modern– marble countertops, gleaming stainless steel refrigerator, a double wall oven. It looked like it could be in a magazine spread, with Noah as the model.
I should have been tired, because I’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep before Josh had called about getting down to campus. But I wasn’t. I was wide awake. More than wide awake – full of energy, wired on… I wasn’t sure what. Lust? Passion? The afterglow of amazing sex?
“Right.” Noah started pulling containers out of the refrigerator. His back was just as built as his front, his shoulders broad and strong, the muscles sharply defined.
I shivered.
He turned around. “Are you cold, Charlotte?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not cold.”
He set down an assortment of food on the breakfast bar– blueberry bagels, apple Danish, maple croissants, cinnamon butter, cream cheese, and tiny cheesecakes swirled with chocolate. There was a French press sitting on the counter, and he brought me over some coffee in a tiny white cup.
“I don’t drink coffee,” I said.
“Nonsense,” he said, setting it down in front of me. “Every lawyer drinks coffee, Charlotte. It’s good for you.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Caffeine can lead to adrenal fatigue,” I reported. I reached over and grabbed a croissant.
“Oh, yeah?” He seemed amused. “And where did you hear that?”
“I read it in the American Journal of Medicine.”
“And do you routinely read the American Journal of Medicine?”
I shrugged. “I used to read it a lot. Back when…” Back when I wanted to be a doctor. But I didn’t want to get into that, didn’t want to talk about it with him or anyone else.