Page 78 of Speed Crush

I pass the bed, pause at the side table, and pull open the drawer. I don’t look at him when I grab the condom. I can feel his eyes locked on me, tracking every movement, like even the air between us is electric.

I place the foil packet on the edge of the bed, right where he can see it, then turn and face him.

Noah blinks but obeys, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

I press a hand to his chest and push him gently down. He lets me. His back hits the lush bed, eyes locked on mine, lips parted. Ready for what’s coming.

Then I climb on top, and straddle his lap—slow, deliberate—my knees on either side, my palms sliding under the hem of his shirt.

“You don’t want the credit,” I say, breath brushing his lips. “So let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

I peel his shirt up and over his head. Let my hands roam his chest. His muscles twitch under my fingers. His eyes darken.

He grins, low and wicked. “I think I like your reward,” he murmurs. “Very sexy."

Instead of answering, I grind against him. Slow. Deep. Deliberate.

His breath catches. His hands grip my thighs.

“I love your generosity,” I purr, eyes locked on his. I pull him up just enough to brush my lips along his jaw. “Now let me show you how generous I can be too.”

I lean in, heat thick between us. “Take off your pants, Noah.”

He rises slowly, eyes never leaving mine, then reaches for the button at his waistband. The zipper lowers with a soft rasp, and he pushes the tailored trousers down his hips, letting them fall to the floor. His erection strains against black boxer briefs—his breathing deeper now, chest rising fast.

He peels them off, eyes dark and hungry, baring himself completely.

Then I slide down between his knees.

Hard. Thick. Beautiful.

I stroke him once, twice, then lean in and take him deep into my mouth.

Noah lets out a hoarse groan.

My fingers wrap around his base. I suck slow, then fast. Hollow my cheeks. Flick my tongue over the head. Taste him. Feel him twitch.

“Look at you,” he groans, voice ragged. “On your knees for me. So generous. Especially with that mouth.”

He grips my hair and tugs gently. “You gonna swallow every drop if I let go in that pretty mouth?”

“You don’t ask for praise,” I murmur, lips brushing his tip. “But I’m giving it anyway.”

I swirl my tongue around him before taking him in again, slower this time—letting him feel every inch of my mouth. My lips slide down his shaft, my throat tightening around him as I take him deeper. He groans, his hips jerking, one hand fisting in my hair.

“Your mouth is made for this,” he pants. “Sweet, filthy little mouth. You love tasting me, don’t you?”

I hum around him, the vibration making him shudder. I pull back just enough to whisper, “I saw this once on a porn channel. You know, during my research.”

His breath hitches hard.

“Tell me,” I purr, licking the tip slowly, “am I a very good student?”

Then I lick him again—long, deliberate, messy—and take him back down, this time until my nose brushes the base.

His voice is wrecked. “Just like that, baby. Don’t stop. That mouth—yeah. It was made for me. Don’t you dare stop.”

The way he watches me, jaw slack, eyes dark and wide, makes something pulse low in my belly. He's trying to keep his control, but I can see it slipping. And I love it.

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