Page 54 of Mr. Picture Perfect
“I was going for your mouth and missed,” he explains.
“Oh.”
Then he goes for my lips.
And this time, he doesn’t miss.
Every nerve ending in my body comes to life as I take hold of his face, locking our mouths together. He quickly grapples for my body, too, as if my touch inspires his. Neither of us can seem to get in the right position to kiss comfortably, everything in the way—the center console, the seats themselves, the steering wheel.
My elbow hits the horn.
Both of us jump, experience half a second of confusion, then dive right back into each other’s faces.
Noah apparently decides he isn’t getting enough of me, so he climbs over the center console without warning and straddles my lap with surprising agility. That results in his butt hitting the horn again, but neither of us react to it the second time, our lips staying connected, our hands on each other.
He reaches down and cranks my seat back, which sends me flying backwards unexpectedly, rendering me almost horizontal. He crawls over my body, hands pressed to my chest, and digs his mouth into mine with such hunger, I feel it down to my stomach.
I would never have predicted such a beast lived inside Noah.
Did I unleash this? Or did the beast always exist?
He’s taken the lead with no coaxing or pushing. Not even the tiniest word of encouragement.
Then he pulls away and whispers, “Is this alright?”
I stare up at his face. When did his glasses come off? “Are you kidding me?” I breathe back.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“Yes. It’s a resounding yes.”
“Good.” When he crashes back down upon my mouth, the kiss intensifies. He grinds his body into mine, flattening me to the seat.
Then I make the discovery that he’s hard.
Just as hard as I am.
His crotch presses against mine with force, revealing an ache inside I didn’t realize was there, a deep and desperate throbbing that needs urgent relief.
I was not aware of exactly how pent-up I am.
Like, Yellowstone-pent-up. Super volcano that has been ready and overdue to blow for centuries.
I have wanted this so badly, it’s incalculable.
Noah stops kissing me, pulls his face away just an inch, eyes closed, then gently drags his tongue over my parted lips. He smiles to himself as I watch him, in awe. Then he resumes kissing me, but more tenderly. His hands drag up my body and take hold of my face before, with surprising naturalness, he slides his soft tongue inside my mouth. I gasp against his gift, inviting my tongue to meet his. Our kiss enters a whole new dimension of exploration as our tongues become intimately acquainted.
The kissing inspires him to grind his crotch into mine even harder. I feel his cock flex within his pants, a notification to tell me how much he’s into this. Each time his cock flexes, I can feel it perfectly against mine. I suppress a groan as my hands take hold of his hips, then gently thrust against him in response.
I don’t know if this is giving either of us any of the relief we’re clearly craving, or if it’s making it all worse, driving us into a state of insanity, eager to be freed somehow from our insatiable desire for one another.
It is becoming increasingly evident how very much our pants are in the way of something we both clearly want.
He pulls away again. “Grab my ass.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Whoareyou?”
His fingers slide into my hair and curl into fists, grabbing hold of me with such strength, it’s my body’s instinct to moan.
