Page 60 of Speed Crush

He groans low—like I taste better than he imagined—and the sound sinks straight into my bones. My knees wobble. My stomach clenches. My core throbs.

I’ve never felt anything like this. Ever.

And maybe that’s what undoes me—the realization that I’m letting this man havethe first of everything. First taste. First kissdown there. First unraveling.

And he’s so calm. So controlled.

While I am shaking.

Burning. Completely undone.

He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t dive in. He licks—slow and deliberate, one long drag that makes my toes curl—and then sucks gently, teasing the sensitive spot I didn’t even know was there until he found it.

A breathy, high sound escapes me—a whimper I don’t recognize. My thighs clamp tighter around him, not to push him away but to keep him there. To beg for more.

He strokes his thumbs along the outside of my hips, grounding me.

Then his mouth moves again—slower, deeper—like he’s trying to memorize every part of me with his tongue.

And maybe he is.

BecauseIam. Memorizing him.

The way his shoulders flex beneath my grip. The way his hair curls slightly at the ends. The way he hums against me like this is something sacred. The way heworships mewithout a single word.

This is happening.

I am beingtouched,kissed,devoured. And for the first time, I’m not scared.

I’m just… his.

He groans, low and guttural, like I’m the one unraveling him, and strokes his thumbs along the outside of my hips like he’s holding back the full force of what he wants to do to me.

“Noah—”

He kisses me slower now, deliberately, tasting me like he has all night and nothing else to do.

Then, he rises just enough to guide me over to the couch—his hands under my thighs, my body barely catching up to the rush of heat pooling inside me.

He lays me back gently, spreading my legs with a reverent kind of hunger. The cool leather hits my bare skin, and I hiss—it’s cold, but I’m already so warm, so wet, I half-wonder if this couch will survive.

He kneels again between my thighs and pulls me closer, one hand under my knee, the other dragging up the inside of my thigh until his fingers brush against the slick heat waiting for him.

“Look at you,” he groans, breath shaking. “You’re soaked.”

I nod, breathless, aching. I don’t even try to be coy. “I’ve been thinking about this.”

Noah smirks. “So have I, June.”

Then he kisses me again, open and hot, tongue slow as it licks a long path between my folds. I cry out—soft, sharp—hips jerking up into him.

He groans into me, hands gripping my thighs tighter. “You taste so good.”

My head falls back, eyes fluttering. “Keep going, Noah... please.”

He does. Licking. Sucking. Moaning against me every time I twitch. His fingers slip between my folds, opening me gently, exposing every trembling inch of me to the warmth of his tongue.

And then he does it—he licks me in slow, deliberate circles, lips sealing around my clit with a low growl that vibrates through me.

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