Page 35 of Six of Hearts
"Bedroom," I said, and she led me down the short hallway.
Her bedroom was just as neat as the rest of the apartment, the bed made with crisp white sheets. I was going to enjoy messing them up.
"Strip," I told her, leaning against the doorframe. "Slowly."
She did, maintaining eye contact as she peeled off her clothes piece by piece.
I watched with the same attention I'd give to a building reveal, appreciating every line and curve, the way light and shadow played across her skin. She was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache, in a way that made me want to build something permanent around her.
When she was naked, I moved to her, running my hands over her body with deliberate slowness. I was mapping her, learning her topography, finding every sensitive spot. Behind her ear. The curve where her neck met her shoulder. The underside of her breasts. The hollow of her hip.
"Noah," she breathed, reaching for my clothes. "You too."
I let her undress me, her hands shaking slightly as she worked the buttons of my shirt. When we were both naked, I guided her to the bed, laying her down on those pristine white sheets.
"I'm going to take my time with you," I said, positioning myself over her. "I'm going to make you come so many times you forget every other man you've been with."
"Confident," she said, but her voice was breathy, her pupils blown wide.
"I'm an architect," I said, kissing down her neck. "I know how to build to a climax."
I worked my way down her body, using everything I'd learned in the car, adding new discoveries.
I found that she was sensitive on the inside of her thighs, that she loved having her hip bones kissed, that she made the most incredible sounds when I sucked on her lower belly.
By the time I reached her pussy, she was already trembling.
I took my time there too, learning her with my tongue the way I'd learned her with my hands. I was methodical but passionate, precise but hungry. I found what made her gasp, what made her moan, what made her grab my hair and pull.
She came on my tongue, her thighs clamping around my head, and I worked her through it, not stopping until she was pushing me away, oversensitive.
"Too much," she panted.
"Not nearly enough," I countered, moving back up her body.
I entered her slowly this time, watching her face as I filled her. The angle was different here, deeper, and I could see every flicker of pleasure that crossed her features. I moved with deliberate precision, each thrust calculated to hit that spot inside her that made her cry out.
"Look at me," I commanded when her eyes started to flutter closed. "I want to see you when you come."
She locked eyes with me, and I increased my pace, driving into her harder. I could feel her tightening around me again, could see she was close. I reached between us, finding her clit, and that was all it took.
She came with my name on her lips, her eyes locked on mine, and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Better than any building, any design, any structure I'd ever created.
This—her pleasure, her trust, her surrender—this was perfection.
I followed her over the edge, burying myself deep as I came, and for a moment everything else fell away. There was just us, just this connection, just this perfect alignment of bodies and hearts.
When I could think again, I rolled to the side, pulling her with me so she was tucked against my chest. She was boneless, her breathing deep and even, and I realised she'd fallen asleep.
I smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair. I'd worn her out. Good.
I carefully extracted myself from the bed, finding my phone in my discarded pants.
I set an alarm for her—she'd need to pick up the kids soon—and placed it on her nightstand. Then I got dressed quietly, taking one last look at her sleeping form.
She looked peaceful. Content. Satisfied.
I'd done that. I'd given her that.
