Page 52 of Lift Me Up

I’ve never had a man ask me that before. I never thought a man caring about something other than his own pleasure could be so fucking sexy.

I glance to my nightstand on the other side of my bed where I know my bottle of lube is, and I think about how I will have to move to get it. Then I think about Noah’s position, and I think about how good he’s making me feel even though his knees are likely screaming. As much as I don’t want him to stop, I also don't want his pain to be at my pleasure unless he wants that. I place a hand on his shoulder to still his movements, sitting up to meet his face.

“Do you want to come onto the bed? We can change positions or- “

He grins, his laugh at the back of his throat, “I don’t think you realize how much I love being on my knees for you. Sure, the floors is a little harder than I’m used to, but believe me, there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Unless you want me to come up there and-“

“You could come kiss me,” I encourage him, watching his eyes grow dark.

“I’d like that.” Noah rises from the floor, saying nothing about the slight pop his knees make when he does.

I shift back on the bed for him to climb in with me, kicking off the remainder of my pants. He doesn’t ask me to take my shirt off, and I’ve never been one to like being completely naked during sex for the sole reason that it’s additional friction and I don’t want to have to deal with flares later. I forget the moment of self-doubt as he crawls over me, still almost fully clothed aside from a shirt, and me half naked and impossibly turned on and still not given an orgasm. This just won’t do.

He kisses me, softly at first, and then so intensely I forget to breathe. I can taste myself on his tongue and follow him when he pulls away from me.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Georgie. I’ll do anything.”

I make a thoughtful expression, “I want you naked. I want to see you. And then…”

He shifts in his place as I pop the button on his jeans. He makes a soft hiss as the pressure releases. I feel how hard he is under my hands, trace down the shadow of him through his boxers as he shifts to remove his jeans, and then the boxers follow.

“Oh god.”

He’s a fucking vision. He’s naturally bronzed, and his hair is going every which way from my hands fisting it. My eyes trail down his toned body and stop at the soft lines at his hips and then down to what I’ve had wet dreams about. His cock is a work of art, hard for me and me only, begging to be touched but he’s so good and gracious and concerned about me that he doesn’t even notice the precum at the tip that I secretly want to taste. He shifts, realizing I’m taking him in from all angles. Thinking of every possible way I want him. That I can have him. He’s mine to have. And if that isn’t the best damn thing, smite me right here and now.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, not nervously or self-conscious, just waiting for me to say something.

I meet his gaze, “I want so many things at the moment.”

“The first one being?”

“The first one being you sit back and touch yourself,” I say thoughtfully but with a tone that suggests he should listen.

His breath hitches, “But this is about⁠—“

“What I want, right? You want to give me what I want, and what I want is to see you touching yourself. Softly, not too much. Good.”

I watch him as he listens to me without another word, touching himself and adjusting to my words, to my liking. His body shivers, his eyes are closed, and his cheeks are pink.

He whimpers and meets my eyes, “Georgie.”

My name is like a prayer on his lips, the only word in his mind right now. He says it again but with a gasp and a sigh of relief when I take his cock in my hand and start touching him just because I can. I feel the soft underside and the veins along him, the tremble in his grip and his thighs and,god I want everything with him. I want him in my mouth, I want him inside me, I want him begging me to come, I want. And I realize I can have. All I have to do is say the word, and he’d let me. It’s such a big responsibility to have, one I take very seriously.

“Stop.” I breathe the word into the crook of his neck where I’ve rested my head to just take him in. He makes a soft noise like he wants to argue, but I feel his hand fall away a moment later. It makes me shiver at the thought of this. I did this. I get to do this because he lets me.

He rests his head on my shoulder, hands on his thighs, body trembling from being close.

“You here with me?” I ask, noticing his even breathing that could be mistaken for sleep.

“Yes,” his voice is soft and pliant, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

“Good. I want you to kiss me. Then I want you to touch me, make me come, because you promised me you’d do that.”

“And then?” He says softly, pulling away from my shoulder to meet my eyes.

His expression causes butterflies, no, it causes my whole body to tremble. He looks beautiful, pink-lipped and wide eyes, only for me. I know he’s hanging on my every word, and I intend to make every single one count.

I touch his cheek and smile, before threading my fingers in his hair and twisting just enough, watching his eyes roll back just for a second, his cock twitching from the feeling. Then he’s smiling and looking at me again, and I know I have him as much as he has me.