Page 51 of Pucked Up

He turned toward the extinguished fire, and I followed without thinking.

I didn't mean to back him up, but I did. His breath caught in his throat—for a second, maybe less.

I grabbed his right wrist, holding it firmly. Skin to skin, heat to heat. Noah's pulse was rapid under my thumb, but he didn't flinch. Didn't pull away.

He looked up at me like he'd been waiting for this moment, knowing it would come.

I didn't say anything. Words would've been wrong. It would have felt like writing poetry with a clenched fist.

Instead, I stepped forward, inch by inch, closing the gap between us until there was nowhere else to go.

Noah's spine crashed into the wall. The flannel shifted against the rough wood. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes didn't blink.

I waited. He could've ducked and said no. Instead, he tipped his chin up.

I raised my free hand slowly, deliberately, giving him every chance to stop me. My fingers brushed against his throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath my touch. I applied gentle pressure, my gaze locked onto his, watching for any sign of discomfort or resistance.

Noah's breath hitched, but he didn't look away. His eyes, wide and trusting, held mine as he leaned into the touch. He squirmed briefly. His slight struggle for breath sent a rush of heat through me.

I squeezed tighter, pushing the delicate balance of power and trust. Noah's hands came up to grip my wrist, not to pull away, but to hold on, to anchor himself. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving mine.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against his jawline. His warm breath brushed my cheek, and his body trembled.

It was a dance of sorts, a silent conversation where words were unnecessary. I eased the pressure, allowing him to take a deeper breath before tightening my grip again, feeling the squirm, the struggle, and the trust.

Noah's eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping his lips. The sound sent a shiver up my spine. I released my grip, my hand touching his cheek, my thumb brushing gently against the reddened skin.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, lips still parted like he'd been bracing for more than this. Like he'd been expecting something worse. Or something better.

Our eyes locked. I didn't blink. I didn't need to. Neither did he.

My breath dragged across the side of his throat as I leaned in—not touching, just letting the heat of it spill across the curve of his jaw, the place where the skin was thin and the nerves ran hot. His pulse leaped, causing a twitch beneath the surface, and I stayed where I was, letting him feel it, letting himneedthe contact.

He tilted his head, exposing more of his neck like a dare.

I could've broken the moment wide open. I could've taken the opportunity. He wouldn't have stopped me.

But I waited.

And then he whispered it. Right against my shoulder. So quiet I almost missed it.

"Don't stop. Not this time."

Raw desire surged inside me at his words, a primal need that demanded to be satisfied. I released his wrist, my hand moving to grip his hip firmly, pulling him closer. He gasped softly as our bodies pressed together, the heat between us intensifying.

Leaning in, my teeth grazed the sensitive skin just below his ear. He shivered, a low moan escaping his lips as I bit down gently, marking him. His fingers dug into my shoulders, nails biting into the fabric of my shirt.

I trailed rough kisses down his throat, my stubble scraping against his skin, leaving a trail of red in its wake. He squirmed against me, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His heart pounded against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own.

My hands moved to his shoulders, gripping the flannel tightly before pushing it down his arms, trapping them at his sides. He struggled briefly, a soft whimper escaping his lips, but I held him firmly in place. I leaned back, my eyes raking over his exposed, smooth chest, taking in the rise and fall of his breath and the flush of his skin.

One of my hands traveled down Noah's abs, and I eventually found the outline of his cock in his jeans. I gripped his balls in my fist and squeezed enough that he could feel it. Enough to make sure heknewthis wasn't pretend.

His body jerked, and for a second, I waited. Watched his face.

He didn't flinch.

"Fuck," Noah rasped. "Micah, please."

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