Forgetting You
Page 77
My body was like a live wire as I twitched and bucked with every swipe of Elliot’s tongue. My flesh was flushed with desire, and my skin burned with need. I was drunk on his touch, and I wanted, needed, more.
“Right there,” I gasped. “Yes, Elliot. Fuck!”
His hands flexed against my stomach in response.
Jolts of pleasure became more constant, and with an abundance of attention focused on my clit, an orgasm began to build. I couldn’t focus on anything but Elliot’s touch, and I quickly lost myself to it. My body felt like it was on fire, and my thighs were quivering. The second he scraped his teeth over me, my body began to convulse.
“El-Elliot!” I stammered. “Don’t st-stop.”
I screamed, then drew in a sharp breath and held it for a moment.
Time, and life itself, fell to the back of my mind, and I became pure sensation. My breath came out in rough pants, and my heart beat uncontrollably as I felt something sharp almost like pain before an inexplicable wave of bliss touched my every nerve ending. It spread out from my clit, and it felt heavenly.
I hissed as jolts of what felt like electricity shot up and down my legs. For a moment, my eyes rolled back, my spine arched and my lips parted as I let out a scream of raw pleasure. My lungs burned for air, so I inhaled greedily. I bucked against Elliot’s face as he continued to lap and suck on my now-oversensitive clit. I turned my body, forcing him away as I continued to twitch in the aftermath of my orgasm.
“I can’t move,” I panted. “Oh my God.”
Elliot chuckled and tugged me up the bed, then covered us with a blanket. I was embarrassed because I was tired, and Elliot knew it.
“I need to join a gym,” I told him. “My stamina is awful.”
He kissed my shoulder and settled in behind me.
“Sleep,” he told me with a chuckle. “Ye’ll need your strength for when we wake up, because I intend to love ye good and proper.”
“You already do love me good and proper,” I hummed. “Elliot, I’m so happy with you. I truly am.”
“Me too, Noah.” He kissed the back of my head. “My person.”
I snuggled back into him, closed my eyes and sighed in delight. This was where I was meant to be, cocooned in Elliot’s arms. This was my space with my person, and it always would be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELLIOT
“How many times?” AJ continued to ask. “Two whole days is a long time to be holed up with a woman, so don’t be acting dumber than usual. How. Many. Times?”
I put down the weights in my hands, wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked at my oldest friend, momentarily wondering why I didn’t punch him in the face more often.
“If I give ye a number,” I said, blinking, “will ye shut up?”
“Yes. Once it’s an honest number.”
“Nine,” I answered. “And a half.”
“And a half?” Pretty shouted from the treadmill. “Did he say nine and a half?”
“He sure did, Pretty.” Texas grinned from the bench press. “What does the ‘and a half’ mean? Is it a language barrier? Because I feel like it is.”
“Come on, lads,” Tank snorted as he spotted for Texas. “‘And a half’ means oral without sex to follow it up . . . right?”
I winked. “Right ye are, big man.”
Tank grinned and focused on the task at hand . . . making sure Texas didn’t get choked if he couldn’t lift the barbell.
“I haven’t gone nine rounds in two days since . . . no, since never.” Pretty shook his head as he ran. “I was never with the same girl long enough, until I met Louise and married her. Even then, I think the most was on my honeymoon. Four times in the one day, and she walked funny for most of the trip. I’m still proud of that, three years later.”
I grinned. “Ye should be proud, you’re an old man now.”
“I’m thirty-seven.” He flipped me off. “Watch your mouth.”
“I’m thirty-six,” Tank chimed in. “I don’t feel old.”
He didn’t look it, and neither did Pretty – or Stitch, who was the same age. Pretty still looked in his mid-twenties, for God’s sake. I looked my age, and Texas looked his. AJ too.
“All I can say is if I was still at home with her, that number would be much higher.” I placed my hands on my hips. “She’s like Viagra to me. I look at her and boom, instant wood.”
I had spent two full days of sex-induced bliss with Noah. I had intended to spend the entirety of my four days off with her, but Frenchie, a co-worker, shot me a text at six this morning and asked if I could cover his watch at nine, because his twins had been up puking all night and so had his wife. He needed to take care of them. I’d wanted to say no – I desperately wanted him to text someone else – but when Noah rolled over and saw the text, she encouraged me to help him, so I swapped a watch with him for later in the week and here I was.