Page 79 of Speed Crush

He starts to thrust gently into my mouth, hips rocking with restraint, and the sensation only winds me tighter. The stretch of him, the push and glide, the wet sounds and his ragged breathing—it’s all too much. I’m soaked just watching it, feeling it. Just knowing I'm the one doing this to him.

Heat blooms through my thighs, hot, slick, and unbearable. I can’t stop. I don’t want to. Because right now, he’s mine to undo.

Then, his hands grip my shoulders, then slide down my arms like he needs to feel every inch of me. He reaches for the condom packet I left on the bed, rips it open with a flick of his wrist, and rolls it on with a hiss of breath through his teeth.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he mutters, voice thick.

Then he stands, tall and imposing, and pulls me up with him. I’m breathless as he turns me, pressing his chest to my back, one hand guiding me forward until I’m braced against the bed.

His voice drops behind me—rough, reverent.

“Stay right there,” he murmurs. “Hands on the bed. I want to feel every inch of you as I take my time.”

And I know what’s about to happen, but I still gasp when his hand slides down my back. This is new. My first time like this—taken from behind, bent over for him. It feels raw and exposing in a way I didn’t expect, and hotter than anything I’ve imagined.

His palm flattens at the small of my back, steadying me. My breath catches. I feel stretched already and he hasn’t even moved.

I’m wet—so wet I can feel it sliding down my thighs. The cold air brushing my skin only makes it more intense. I grip the edge of the bed, trying to ground myself, but it’s useless. He’s in control now.

And the way he fills me from behind—so deep, so sure—makes my knees go weak.

A moan slips from my throat, unrestrained.

I’ve never felt so… vulnerable. Or this powerful.

Because he’s the one who’s groaning now, cursing under his breath as he thrusts deeper. Like he’s the one being undone.

His hands grip my hips, spreading me wider, his voice a low growl behind me. “You have no idea how perfect you feel like this. Your ass—baby, the way it moves when I’m deep inside you.”

He fists a hand gently in my hair, guiding my head down. “This view? Burned into my brain forever.”

Another thrust—deeper, firmer—and I cry out, the friction sparking down my spine.

“You're dripping for me,” he pants. “So wet, so ready. This pussy was made to be taken like this.”

My body clenches, tight around him, and the moan that rips from my throat is nothing short of desperate. Every word, every stroke, pushes me closer to the edge.

Noa's thrusts are deep. Full. Devastating. Wet and wild. The sound of him moving inside me is filthy—slick, rhythmic, obscene. The slap of skin, the squelch of my arousal, the sharp smack of his hips against mine—it echoes in the air like a pulse. My arousal coats his length, sticky and hot, dripping down the insides of my thighs with every powerful stroke.

His fingers grip harder, spreading me open as he drives in again, and I swear I can feel him all the way up my spine. I whimper, helpless against the pleasure, and he leans over me, breath hot on my neck.

“Can you feel how soaked you are?” he growls. “Every time I push in, your pussy pulls me deeper—like you never want to let me go.”

I can’t speak. Can’t think. All I can do is feel. The heat, the stretch, the pounding need building with every thrust.

My body trembles. My fingers claw at the sheets, desperate to hold on to something—anything—as he takes me exactly the way I never knew I needed.

My moans break open—sharp, breathless, unstoppable—as his hands slide up, cupping my breasts from behind. The instant he touches me there, my breaths come faster, uneven. The way he palms and squeezes, rolling my nipples between his fingers, makes me arch instinctively.

I’m braced on my elbows, thighs shaking, every thrust pushing me closer to the edge. Then I push up onto my hands, giving him more. Needing more.

Now I’m on all fours, the new angle making every thrust hit harder. Deeper. My whole body burns with it.

“Harder,” I gasp, my voice ragged. “Please… I want it rough.”

Noah stills for half a beat, maybe a little shocked at my asking—but the sound that comes next is a dark, delicious groan.

“You want it rough?” he breathes, fingers digging into my hips. “My naughty girl.”

---