Page 93 of Under the Lies

He pulls away and my head snaps up, glaring at his devious face as he pushes himself up. His chest brushes mine as he stands. In a touch almost too gentle to be felt, he cups my cheek, crashing his mouth to mine.

The feel of his sweater is too coarse against my chest. Reaching down, I grab the hem and pull it up, over his shoulders. Noah unfuses our mouths to let me finish, stripping him free of the layer between us.

Once it’s tossed somewhere across his apartment, his arms lock around me, pulling us together. Mouth back on mine.

I feel lightheaded, drunk on his touch. His lips a sin I never want to atone for.

Pushing him away long enough to catch the breath he’s robbing me of, I see the feral look in his eyes, wondering if a twin expression is in mine.

“You have freckles,” I marvel breathlessly, my fingers reach out to trace the dark spots that dust across his shoulders, traveling to his back. Brown and tan paint splotches splattered along his skin.

Almost memorized, I trace them with my fingers and then with my mouth. Wanting to taste them. To taste him.

Pressing kisses on his shoulders and down his chest. Soon the freckles fade away but I’m still traveling a path with no guide.

Noah’s chest moves steadily beneath my touch, his fists clenched at his sides until I’m on my knees, eye level to his belt, his straining hard-on salutes me as my fingers work quickly to undo the buckle.

“Sayer,” he growls as I dare to press my mouth to his hard tip with only the fabric between us. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

He thinks I won’t. I see the mischief, the disbelief as I stare up at him.

“I don’t plan on it.” I smirk.

I start to pull his hardness from his pants when my hands get slapped away. Before I have time to process why, I’m being hauled to my feet. The room spins and my back is pressed to Noah’s chest.

But only for a moment before he bends me over the couch. My forearms catch my fall before Noah blankets my body with his.

“I’m going to make you scream my name, Sayer. Scream it because it’s going to be the only thought in your head while I’m fucking you senseless.”

My throat closes up, heavy with excitement, with nerves, with need. A chariot of horses race in my chest, their steps gaining speed when I hear the unmistakable sound of foil ripping.

And he slides in with one powerful thrust.

I gasp, he fills me to the hilt and it’s almost too much.

I feel full. Close to breaking as Noah slams into me, making my body sing.

Blood and death have marred his hands, but when they touch me, they breathe life into my body, awakening senses that had long since gone quiet.

He’s the bad, the wolf I shouldn’t want, but it’s hard to remember that when he makes me feel so good.

More than good.

Extraordinary.

He works me over, reducing me to only noises and incoherent words.

“Noah.”

His name is like a prayer to be heard from the stars. A prayer that turns to a chant as he licks and sucks and bites in tune with his thrusts, taking me to heights no man has achieved before.

It’s not until I’m sweating and shaking, it’s too much, it’s too much, that he stops, leaving me suspended.

I whimper, trying to clench my thighs together to soothe the ache he caused and left.

“Noah,” I beg, my voice hoarse and trembling. Desperate.

He doesn’t say anything, but I feel his fingers on my spine, pushing me until I’m arching like a bow, an arrow cocked back ready to be pulled.

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