Page 61 of Speed Crush

“You feel that?” he murmurs. “How swollen you are? This is what I do to you. This is what you wanted.”

I nod, panting. “Yes—yes, just like that.”

Then it slips out, quiet and breathless. “Noah... I’m still a virgin.”

"Oh baby." He pauses and looks up at me with something fierce and tender blazing in his eyes.

"We're not going to rush. I want to worship you first." He says softly. "Let me give you this."

He kisses me lower, then higher again, teasing, worshipping.

My thighs tremble around his shoulders. My whole body tightens like a string pulled taut.

“You're pulsing for me, baby. So responsive. So greedy.” He kisses the inside of my thigh again, then looks up at me with heat simmering in his eyes. “Squeeze your breasts for me, June. Let me see what I’m doing to you.”

I can’t form words now—just gasps, broken moans.

He slides one finger inside, slow and careful.

I gasp. My eyes widen. My body clutches him tight as he puts another finger in me, slow and stretching.

“Okay?” he murmurs, glancing up, voice full of heat but edged with concern.

I nod. “More than okay.”

Then it’s not soft. Not slow.His mouth returns with purpose—firm, hungry circles over my clit as his fingers begin to thrust, curling just right inside me.

His mouth never leaves me. He works me open with aching precision.

And suddenly, I feel everything. Too much. Perfect. Hot. Wild.

I’m not thinking anymore. I’m panting. Whimpering. Gripping the leather beneath me like it might keep me from flying apart.

Noah’s pace quickens—his tongue firmer, more relentless, stroking me in tighter, hungrier circles while his fingers thrust deeper, curling hard and just right inside me.

The pressure builds sharp and hot, and I’m gasping now, too full of sensation to think. He licks me faster, harder, until my whole body shakes.

And then it hits. My climax slams into me like a shockwave. My hips jerk and my thighs lock around him as a burst of wetness floods out of me.

“Noah—” I cry out his name as I come—hard. I swear—I squirt. I feel it. The couch definitely feels it.

My thighs lock around his head, my body clenching down on his fingers. My orgasm crashes through me and leaves me gasping.

He moans against me like I’m the one unravelinghim, and I swear the sound alone pushes me closer. The pressure builds—deeper, sharper—with every stroke. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let me breathe. He pins me to the edge of pleasure and keeps me there.

He groans into me, drinking me in like he’s starving for it. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “Give it to me. Every drop.”

And I do. My second orgasm rips through me, hips bucking, body clenching around his fingers. I swear the couch shakes beneath me.

I don’t just cry out his name this time. I scream it.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. He licks me through it, groaning like he needs every drop of what I’m giving him.

When I collapse back, boneless and shaking, he kisses the inside of my thigh and looks up at me, eyes full of heat and something devastatingly tender.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs.

And neither am I.

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