Chapter 207

Noah

For a second, I thought he was going to say it.

Stay.

Run away with me.

Let’s disappear.

His fingers dug into my hips, holding me tight against him as he breathed out, “Baby… by God, I would do anything to keep you. Anything. To run away with you. To hell with everything—my job, my safety, my life…”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“But I can’t say to hell with your career,” he whispered. “Or your legal bindings. Or your family’s safety. Or your life. And you know I can’t, because you can’t say it either.”

The words landed like a punch to the gut.

Not cruel.

Just true.

Too true.

I wanted to cry and kiss him and scream and hold him all at once.

He cupped my face, brushing his thumb under my eye. “But listen to me… maybe we can still find a way to stay together tonight.”

My breath caught. “They’re expecting us home. We have to go back or William will notice, but maybe—maybe I could send Lexie back alone, or maybe we could say we’re spending the night, or maybe—”

He stopped me with a kiss.

Just pressed his lips to mine, slow and warm and final, like he was shutting the door gently on every frantic thought tumbling in my skull.

“Baby… baby…” he murmured against my mouth. “Stop. You’re spiraling.”

I shook a little. In his arms, I always did.

He kissed the corner of my mouth.

Then my jaw.

Then the soft spot under my ear that made my breath stutter.

“You need to let go of your control too,” he whispered. “It’s too much to bear. Breathe for me. Just breathe.”

“Aiden…” It came out cracked.

His hands slid up my back, grounding me, pulling me closer until our chests met and I could feel every rise of his breath against mine.

“Relax,” he whispered. “Kiss me.”

I did.

God, I did.

The moment our mouths met again, everything fell away, all of it sinking into the dark like it never existed. His hands traced slow lines down my spine, and I shivered on top of him, feeling his body under mine, solid and warm and everything I’d missed.

His lips parted for me, soft and hungry, and I sank into him, into the heat of his mouth, the steady grip of his hands, the way he held me like he was anchoring both of us.

My hips brushed his.

His breath hitched.

I felt the spark catch fire.

“I need you…” I whispered against his lips.

“You have me,” he murmured, guiding my mouth back to his. “And I’ve got you.”

And then the world tipped.

His hands slid lower, his lips moved with mine, and everything inside me went hot and bright and terrified and alive as I surrendered to him—wholly, desperately, completely.

I needed to feel him, to touch him; I needed to taste him… All of him. I pulled away from the embrace and started trailing kisses down his neck, feeling his pulse hammering under my lips. I moved to his chest, licking over his nipples, feeling them get hard under my tongue. He tasted like salt and sweat and him. I kept going, kissing down his stomach, following the trail of hair that led lower. I could feel his abs tense as I moved. His cock was hard, lying thick against his belly, and I wanted it in my mouth more than I wanted my next breath.

I looked up at him, and his eyes were closed, his jaw tight. I took him in my hand first, feeling the weight of him, the heat. Then I leaned down and took the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that went straight to my own dick. I took him deeper, inch by inch, sucking slowly, teasing him with my tongue. I wanted to drive him crazy. I wanted to be the only thing he could think about.

His hips started to buck, pushing himself deeper into my mouth. His hands found my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, not pushing, just holding on.

"Noah," he moaned, his voice strained. "Fuck... Noah."

I hollowed my cheeks, taking him all the way, deep-throating him until my nose was pressed against his skin. I could feel him getting closer, his whole body going taut. But just as he was about to let go, he tightened his grip on my hair and gently pulled me off him.

"Stop," he breathed out, his chest heaving. "Not yet. I want to be inside you."

He shifted his grip and rolled us easily, settling over me, braced on his elbows. His weight was perfect—solid, grounding, making every frantic thought in my head finally go quiet. He lowered his mouth to my throat, then my collarbone, then my chest, each kiss slow and warm, lingering like he was relearning me with his lips. When he finally took my cock in his hand, I gasped, my back arching off the bed. His grip was firm, familiar. He knew exactly how I liked it, the twist of his wrist on the upstroke, the way he'd swipe his thumb over the head.

"Look at me," he commanded softly. I forced my eyes open. He was watching me, his expression raw. "I want to see you."

He kept his eyes on mine as he shifted, reaching for the lube inside a nearby chest. The click of the cap, familiar in my ears. His fingers were cold at first, and I flinched, but then they warmed with my own heat, circling my entrance, teasing. I spread my legs wider, a silent invitation. He pushed one finger in, and I moaned. It wasn't enough. It was too much. I needed all of him.

"Please, Aiden," I breathed out. "Now."

He didn't make me wait any longer. He lined himself up and pushed inside, slow, so fucking slow. It burned, just a little, that perfect stretch that was only him. He filled me up, and for a second, the world narrowed to just this feeling. Him inside me, his body over mine, his eyes locked on mine. He was all the way in, and he just stayed there for a moment, letting me adjust, letting us both just be.

Then he started to move. Not hard or fast, but a deep, steady rhythm, a rocking of his hips that sent waves of pleasure through me. He was making love to me, just as I’d asked. There was no other word for it. Every thrust was a statement. I'm here. I love you. Remember this.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, my hands clutching at his shoulders, his back. I could feel his muscles flexing with every movement. Burying my face in his neck, I breathed in his scent—sweat and cologne, and something that was just Aiden. I was so close to the edge, my whole body strung tight.

"Come with me, Noah," he whispered in my ear, his voice breaking. "Let go."

And I did. He shifted his angle just a little, hitting that spot inside me, and I was gone. I came with a cry, spilling between our stomachs, my body shaking with the force of it. It felt like my soul was being ripped out of my body. Aiden followed right after, his rhythm faltering, his hips jerking as he emptied into me with a long, low groan that sounded like my name.

He collapsed on top of me, his whole weight pressing me into the mattress. I didn’t care. I held him, my arms wrapped tight around his body, my face buried in his hair. We were both breathing hard, our hearts hammering against each other’s ribs. The jazz music played in tune with our hearts, the distant buzz of the club on the other side of the door fading into something foreign, unreal. All I could hear was him breathing. All I could feel was his skin, his scent, his presence, his warmth…

We didn’t say anything. What was there to say? We just lay there in the dark, holding on to each other as tight as we could, trying to pretend that the moment the grand clock struck midnight, we wouldn’t have to let go.

Did we have to?

Maybe it was time to talk to the others. Maybe it was time for a new plan.