Chapter 231
Noah
His hands tightened on my hips, and in one fluid motion, he lifted me, settling me onto his lap so I was straddling him. The new angle sent a jolt through me, and I could feel the hard length of him pressing against my jeans. He held my gaze, his expression a mixture of raw need and profound tenderness, before he claimed my mouth again. This kiss was different—deeper, more possessive. It wasn't just about comfort anymore; it was about reclaiming.
My own hands roamed up his chest, my fingers tracing the defined muscles beneath his shirt. I fumbled with the hem, needing to feel his skin against mine.
He broke the kiss just long enough to yank the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. The sight of him, all solid strength and warm skin, made my mouth go dry.
I leaned in, pressing kisses to his collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin. A low groan rumbled in his chest, a vibration that went straight to my cock.
His fingers found the hem of my shirt, and he paused, his knuckles brushing against my stomach. "Okay?" he murmured, his voice husky.
Okay? Hell yeah… It couldn't have been more okay…
I answered by pulling it off myself, letting it join his on the floor. The cool air on my overheated skin was a shock, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. He looked at me like I was something precious, something he had almost lost and was determined to cherish. His hands mapped my torso, thumbs stroking my nipples, coaxing them into hard peaks. I gasped, rocking my hips against him instinctively, seeking more friction.
"Easy, Noah," he whispered, though his own control seemed to be fraying. "Let me take care of you."
He shifted us, laying me back against the couch cushions and following me down, settling between my thighs.
The weight of him was perfect, a grounding anchor that chased away the last of the ghosts.
He undid my jeans, his movements slow and deliberate, giving me every chance to stop him. I didn't. I lifted my hips, helping him slide the denim and my boxers down my legs until I was bare beneath him.
Aiden knelt between my legs for a moment, just looking. His eyes were dark with desire, no trace of hesitation, only a fierce, unwavering love.
He leaned down, his lips trailing a path from my navel to my hip, his tongue flicking out to taste the sensitive skin there.
I was trembling, but it was from anticipation, not fear.
He continued his path lower, his breath ghosting over my already hard cock.
My hips twitched, a silent plea.
He seemed to understand, pressing a soft, almost worshipful kiss to the head. A bead of pre-come welled up, and he swiped it away with his thumb, his eyes locked on mine before he brought the digit to his own lips and tasted. The sight was so intimate, so raw, it made my chest ache.
Then he shifted lower, his attention moving to the sensitive skin of my perineum.
I tensed, my breath catching in my throat, reminding me he'd only done that to me.
"I wanna taste you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my thigh.
I could only nod, my throat too tight to speak.
He leaned in and pressed his tongue flat against that spot, licking a slow, broad stripe. A jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure shot through me, so intense it was almost painful. My back arched off the couch cushions, a choked gasp tearing from my lips.
He began to suck in a way no one but him ever had.
The sensation was overwhelming, a wet, intimate heat that was both grounding and electrifying.
Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he moved even lower. His hands gently gripped my thighs, pushing them wider, opening me completely to him.
And then I felt it—the tentative, teasing press of his tongue against my entrance. A full-body shudder wracked me. This was it. This was the ultimate surrender, the final wall coming down.
He circled the tight ring of muscle, his touch gentle but insistent, coaxing, not demanding. The wet heat was obscene, a secret, filthy pleasure that sent sparks of electricity up my spine.
He began to work his tongue inside, a slow, shallow intrusion that had me writhing. It was an intimacy so profound it bordered on spiritual. He wasn't just claiming my body; he was healing it with his mouth, worshipping every part of me. He was showing me that I was worthy of this, of him, of everything.
My hands fisted in his hair, holding him to me, no longer guiding but simply anchoring myself to the man who was putting me back together, one devastatingly perfect lick at a time.
“Fuck, baby… Oh, God… I'm gonna—”
Before I could even finish the sentence, he stopped and gave me one of his sexy, evil smirks.
“No, you're not, baby boy…” Pulling me up by my hand, he kissed me as he blindly guided me to the bedroom.
I broke the kiss ready to drop to my knees and suck him dry, but he shook his head, pushing me over the bed with so much hunger, I almost came right there.
“I want you so bad… Please—” I begged, knowing how it turned him on when I did.
“Please, what? What do you want?” He commanded.
“I want you to fuck me hard,” I pleaded. “Make me ache, Aiden. I wanna feel you… I want it to last; I want it to hurt…”
“Oh, baby boy… I'm going to make you scream.” He reached over the nightstand, fumbling in the drawer for the bottle of lube, his gaze never leaving mine.
He slicked his fingers, pressing against my entrance. I tensed for a split second, an old reflex, but forced myself to relax, to breathe.
"Shh, I've got you," he soothed, his voice a low caress. He circled the tight ring of muscle before slowly, carefully, pressing one finger inside. The burn was familiar, a welcome stretch. He moved with exquisite patience, scissoring his fingers, stretching me, preparing me until I was pushing back against his hand, desperate for more.
"Please, Aiden," I breathed, my voice wrecked. "Now."
He positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging against me. He entered me slowly, inch by agonizing inch, giving my body time to adjust to the intrusion. It was intense, a fullness that bordered on overwhelming, but it was Aiden. It was safe. When he was fully seated inside me, he paused, his forehead resting against mine.
"You feel so good," he groaned. "So perfect. There’s never been anyone like you, baby. There'll never be. Not in a thousand years. "
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Good, because there'll never be another but me. Not ever! Only me…" I demanded.
His eyes switched from lust to devotion. “Never! There's no one else I want. You're mine and I'm yours.”
Tears came to my eyes before I pushed them away with a grin. “Now fuck me."
He began to thrust, a slow, deep rhythm that built a fire low in my belly. Each stroke was a statement, a declaration of his love and my survival. The sounds of our bodies moving together, of our harsh breaths and soft moans, filled the quiet room. He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
"Right there," I panted. "God, right there."
He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, stronger, more demanding—almost brutal. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter as he fucked me hard enough to hurt like he'd promised.
He reached between us then, his fist wrapping around my cock, stroking me in time with his thrusts. That was all it took. The world shattered into a million brilliant pieces as I came, spilling over his hand with a hoarse shout.
My body clenched around him, and with a final, deep thrust, he followed me over the edge, my name a guttural cry on his lips.
We collapsed against each other, a sweaty, sated tangle of limbs. He stayed inside me for a long moment, just holding me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. I could feel his heart pounding against my ribs, a steady, reassuring beat. When he finally pulled away, I felt a moment of cold emptiness, but he was back in an instant, pulling a blanket over us and tucking me against his side.
I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. The trauma wasn't gone, I knew that. But here, in his arms, it felt small and far away. We had found our way back.