Page 35 of Beauty
“I don’t need to fuck. Because I get off on touching you. On watching you come. That’s normally enough. I rarely have sex because, in the past, when I’ve been with women, it’s felt like they’re performing for me. Like they’ve been trained to please men rather than seek their own pleasure. And that doesn’t do it for me.” He closes his eyes, a pained expression flitting across his face, though it’s gone quickly. “I don’t want to do that with you.”
My stomach sinks, and there’s no hiding the devastation in my tone when I ask, “You don’t want to fuck me?” This is not where I thought this was going.
Noah’s lips curl up, as if he’s pleased by how bothered I am. “Oh, I want to fuck you. And Iwillfuck you.” He beckons me with the crook of one finger. “Come sit on my lap. I want to touch you while you eat.”
That heat in my belly turns to liquid, slicking my thighs as I slide my chair back. Who knew talking so plainly about sex could be so hot? This man’s openness and honesty may be the sexiest things about him, and that’s saying something. He flat-out told me that he wants to experience something with me he never has with another woman.
The thought consumes me, blooms inside me, encourages me to be brazen myself. Maybe that makes me apick megirl but in this moment, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll gladly wear the title of a hopeless romantic.
Noah pushes his plate back and drags mine across the table until it’s in front of him. Then he spreads his thighs and sets his hands on them, waiting.
Eyes locked on his, I stand and shuffle into the slot he’s created for me between his knees.
“Sit,” he says, guiding me to sit sideways on his lap with a shoulder pressed against his chest. “Now eat.”
I peer up at him, only to find him surveying the ocean. Confusion swirls in my belly, tempering the arousal there. I thought he was going to touch me. I wait a beat, and when he still doesn’t look at me, I pick up a fry.
As I bring it to my mouth, he slides a hand beneath my robe and cups one of my breasts, though he’s still intent on watching the waves roll in. He dusts a finger across my nipple, then circles back, lightly teasing me, and the zap of electricity that shoots straight to my core makes me hiss.
“I want to make you come over and over. Until you’re begging me to stop. But I need you to tell me right now that even when you beg, you understand that I won’t stop. I want to spend the next forty-eight hours using your body, pleasuring you in every way, even when it’s too much for your senses. Telling me to stop will only spur me on, so pick another word, and only use it if you truly don’t want me to continue.”
As he speaks, he doesn’t stop playing with my nipples. It takes concerted effort to understand the rules he’s laying out with the way my core tightens and my pussy begs to be filled and fucked. Arousal drips from me, coating my thighs and soaking through my robe as I work hard to decipher his words.
“Will you fuck me to please me?” I need to know. If he wants me to agree to be the equivalent of his sex toy, then I need to know that what he has in mind will involve actual sex. Like penetration. My body is a slut for him right now, and I’d agree to just about anything, but only if it means I get his dick.
I stare up at him, desperate for him to look at me. But he keeps his attention fixed on the water. He pinches my nipple, and my hips roll in response, searching for relief.
“I’m going to stick my cock in whatever hole will make you squirt for me. Then I’ll drink your cum.”
My mind spins, his dirty words leaving me dizzy. “Holy shit.”
His hand drifts to my other breast, and he starts his ministrations over. In seconds, I swear I’m on the brink of release. It’s impossible, yet here I am, my limbs tingling and need coiling tight in my belly.
As if he knows better, as if he knows he can work my body over in a way that’ll send me hurtling into the abyss without touching my pussy, he finally zeroes in on me. By the way his pupils are blown out, one would think I was on my knees for him. That I was the one pleasuring him, touching him. He pinches my nipple and rolls it.
“Say yes. Tell me I can have free rein over your body. Give me permission to make you come over and over. Please tell me I can stick my cock in you whenever I want, wherever we are, so I can watch your skin take on that gorgeous golden flushed hue. I want you soaked for me. Coated in sweat and panting.”
“Yes,” I cry out. The single word isn’t meant to be an answer to his question. It passes my lips with force as my body crests a wave of need. He’s done it. He’s sent me over the edge with nothing more than nipple play.
He curls around me, pushing my robe aside with a rough sideways thrust of his chin. Then he laps at one breast and bites down on the nipple while he continues teasing the other.
Desire washes over me, flooding me, overtaking me, dripping down my legs. “Holy shit. Don’t stop,” I babble. “Please, please.”
Vision spotty, I thrash against him. I need to be fucked. I need to be filled.
But he holds me in place, refusing to give me what I’m literally begging for and instead taking what he wants. He sucks on my tits, drawing out my orgasm. As he takes and takes and takes some more, my mind swirls and understanding finally dawns. This is what he wants. He wants the control, and he wants to give me this insane pleasure.
As my trembling limbs settle and my orgasm ebbs, he drags his mouth up my chest, up my neck, and seals his lips over mine.
Gasping for air, still desperate to be filled with him, I drop my head against his chest. He presses kisses to my forehead, adjusts the robe so I’m covered again, and picks up one of the glasses of water from the table. He brings the straw to my mouth and waits for me to open.
I obey easily, catching on to how much he likes to take care of me. Once I’ve taken a few sips, he sets the glass down. Then he snakes a hand beneath my robe and settles his warm palm against the burning skin of my thigh.
My mind is a jumbled mess. Every second of what he just did was pure bliss, yet he still hasn’t even touched my pussy. How is that possible? He’s made me come three times now, and I’ve yet to even see the man’s cock. It’s incredible. It’s?—
“Butterfly,” I whisper.
“Hmm?” The sound rumbles through his chest.
