Page 92 of Becoming Us
Then he whispered, low and filthy and so fucking sweet, “Do you like that, baby?”
The word hit me like lightning. Goosebumps flared down my spine, sparked over my skin. I felt it in my chest, in my dick, in every inch of my body. Without thinking, I slid my hand under his and gripped the base of my cock, hard, needing tostopbefore I completely lost control.
I squeezed my eyes shut, curling into myself. “Stop. Stop,” I gasped, and his hips froze instantly.
“What is it?” Atty asked, breathless, confused.
I groaned.Of all the fucking times.
“That almost made me come.” I laughed a little. “You’re going to fucking kill me tonight, Atty.”
“What did I do?”
I rolled my eyes, even as a grin tugged at my mouth. “What did you just call me?”
He leaned his forehead against the back of my neck. I felt the heat of his smile on my skin. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I took a breath, then moved my hand away, ready again. I arched my back, inching my hips back—and he responded, sliding into me in one smooth thrust.
“Sorry—”
“If you eventhinkabout taking it back or not saying it again,” I warned, “I will handcuff you to this bed and keep you hostage until you do.”
Another breathless chuckle. “I could think of worse things.” His lips ghosted over my neck as his hips found their rhythm again—stronger now. Confident.
“Are you going to say it again?”
“Don’t pressure me.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
I grinned, arching into him in a wordless plea for more. Atty didn’t hesitate.
The headboard began to softly thud against the wall, and we both laughed. The creaking got louder, and somehow that only made it better. Hotter.
Atty scraped his teeth over my shoulder, groaning as he started to thrust harder.
“Is that good?” I asked, breathless and cocky.
His grip tightened. “You feel incredible, baby.”
My eyes rolled back. “Oh, fuck.” His hand wrapped around me again, stroking faster—dragging me toward the edge.
“You’re not playing fair.” I panted against my forearm.
“And you are?” His hips pressed harder into mine, pinning me down.
It took a beat before I realized he was right. I had been the one urging it on—grinding back, chasing it. My need was leading us now, dragging us toward something frantic and blinding.
I smirked. “It’s that big cock’s fault. It drives me fucking crazy.”
“You drive me crazy.” A growl tore out of him, deep and raw, straight from his chest.
“Did you miss that?” My voice tipped into a taunt, unable to help myself.
He didn’t answer—just thrust harder, stroking me faster.
His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against my neck, each exhale grazing sweat-slicked skin. The bed slammed into the wall in a stuttering rhythm, and I was seconds from coming when he leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “I love you, Noah.”
My orgasm hit like a truck—sudden and devastating—ripping out of me so hard I didn’t know if I gasped or screamed his name. His strokes eased, softer now, slower. But his hips didn’t stop. They kept punching into me with the same relentless rhythm.
