My temperature rises, hands twitching to take what she’s offering.
“No.” I swallow, the sound a low grumble. Not like this.
“Coward.”
A ringing in my ears alerts me to her slapping me. A small palm against my cheek burns a path across my flesh, chasing up my face.
“Freya,” I warn, my pulse flicking in my throat.
“Coward.” Slap.
“FREYA.”
Her hand raises again, but I grab her wrist, halting her ability to make purchase. “Don’t,” I warn.
Yanking her hand back, she drops to her knees, her tits bouncing. Her petite hands reach for my belt, tugging it from the loops. “Freya, don’t.” I lean down, gripping her under the arms and lifting her to her feet. “Stop it!” I shout, hating that I’ve turned her into this.
“I hate you,” she spews out, her words full of venom, hurt, anger, confusion.
“No, you don’t. Just like I don’t fucking hate you.”
“Yes, you do!” she roars.
“No. I. Fucking. Don’t.”
Breathing, heavy and rhythmic, sings between us, her eyes holding mine. Everything shifts as I wrench her toward me. Gripping the back of her neck, my thumb rests against the soft flesh of her cheek as I murmur, “Kiss me, Freya,” switching our roles.
Static energy pulses between us. Lifting onto her tiptoes, her lips press hard against mine, urgent, hungry, angry. Tears stream down her cheeks.
“I hate that I don’t hate you,” she sobs between biting, sucking, caressing my lips with her own.
My pulse flurries in every nerve ending as her naked body becomes flush against me. Frantic hands tug me by the hair. She can’t get close enough. I want to feed on her. I inhale her scent likes its air. I need it to survive. I’ve been with plenty of women, shared more with Remi than I’ve fucked alone, but none of them felt like this. This is different. She is different.
Sweeping her up without breaking away from her mouth, I carry her to her bed and lay her against the mattress. Her chest vibrates with every intake of breath. Standing over her, I really look at her. Bruised lips part. A light sheen of sweat beads on her brow. Thick, dark lashes blink rapidly as she watches me watching her. Soft, creamy flesh, taut and toned, untouched by any man, beckons me. Her tits are heavy with deep red nipples. The shallow of her navel flutters with her intake of breaths. Thick hips flare out, curving back in, following a path down generous thighs.
“Open your legs, Freya,” I tell her, my voice husky, full of lust. My cock strains against my slacks.
Placing her feet flat on the edge of the bed, she drops her knees, opening herself to me. There’s a small sprinkling of dark hair across her mound trimmed tidy. Silk, bare lips, fat and inviting, spread for my eyes to feast on.
“Ask me to kiss you,” I tell her, sucking in a breath.
A deep inhale, then, “Kiss me,” she exhales.
“Use my name.” I want her to know who it is she’s asking.
“Kiss me, Noah.”
Mmm, I want to breathe her in and fill my lungs with her. “Where?” I groan, swiping my tongue over my bottom lip.
“Everywhere,” she cries, her head tilting back, hands coming up to cover her face. Her body quivers with need, nerves, emotion.
My knees thud against the carpet as I drop before her. Palming her hips, I drag her ass toward me, opening her up farther.
“Here?” I place my lips against her inner thigh, kissing.
“Yes.” Her hips dip.
“Here?” I ask again, moving up to the crease between her pussy and thigh.
“Yes.” She quivers, sensations overwhelming her.
“Here?” My lips push against her opening, her breath catching at the contact.
“Yes, there, Noah. Kiss me there,” she pleads, her hips flexing, fingers twisting in the duvet at her sides.
She smells sweet. Too fucking sweet. Her arousal is intoxicating. I swipe my tongue up the seal of her lips. Tasting her pink, pretty flesh makes my head spin. I want to be rough, consume her, but I take my time, desire thrumming through every inch of me, begging me to reconsider. I’m starving for her, and now that I’ve tasted her, I’ll never get enough.
Burying my face, I lick around her clit, firm then soft, taking cues from her body as her thick thighs clamp around my head, her feet interlocking around my neck. A throaty groan tears from her as I switch it up and flurry my tongue over her clit, sending a surge of need into my balls.
“Watch me, Freya,” I tell her when she squeezes her eyes closed. “Watch me eat your pussy.”
“Oh god,” she cries out, writhing before me. Her pelvis tips up to meet me with fervent demand. Glazed eyes spring open, locking with mine.
Sucking two fingers into my mouth, I coat them in saliva, making a show of tracing her pussy from clit to hole. Her pussy resists, tight, slick walls clenching around me. She’s snug. So fucking tight. She must not even touch herself. “Fuck my fingers, Freya. Take what you need.” I push in deeper, spitting on her cunt to glide my fingers past the resistance.