Page 53 of Lift Me Up

“And then, if you listen. I’ll let you come.”

“Please.” He sounds so sweet when he says it, eyes wide.

I trail a finger down his chest, relishing in the trembles and goosebumps I elicit on my way. “And if you’re really good, you’re going to make good on that promise to fuck me until I forget my own name.”

“Jesus. You’re a Goddess.” He gasps, cock twitching again appreciatively and I stroke him once, twice, just for good measure.

I chuckle. “It’s Georgie, but I like the sound of that too.”

His head falls back in a moan. It’s all he can do to keep from reacting the way he wants to.

“Look at me.” He does. “Show me what you can do, and don’t you dare hold back.”

He swallows hard, and then- he smiles. No, he full on beams rays of sunlight at me. It’s too much. I know it’s at this moment that there’s no going back, and I have never wanted something so badly in all my life. I want this moment frozen in time forever, and I want this—and only this—for as long as he’ll let me have him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

GEORGIE

Like the flip of a switch, Noah stays true to his word and listens to mine like it’s scripture. I think he’s going to slip down my body and finish what he started with his tongue, but then his hands, his impossibly long hands, are pulling me, my entire body over him, my knees like earmuffs. I realize what he’s doing and release a squeak, but his hands are gripping my hips, my thighs, holding me still and keeping me where he wants me. I can’t help laughing at how natural this is for us.

“I thought I was in charge?” I remind him, and though his hands go lax, they stay on my hips and rub small circles of encouragement.

“Please. I want it,” He means it, too. I can see the want, the need in his eyes. His chest rises and falls, his neck angled up so I can see the way he swallows hard. Who am I to deny this beautiful boy what he’s asked so nicely for?

“I’ll smother you.” I protest.

He grins at me. “If I die, I’ll die happy.”

That’s really the end of the argument because his mouth is hot and wet and fast as lightning, immediately hitting every possible nerve and humming in contentment. I throw my head back, gasping for air as he sets my body on fire with his tongue, his fingers leaving welcomed bruises on my hips. I have to bracket my arms on my headboard to hold myself up as he continues, the rumble in his throat ferocious, starving.

My hand slips down between my legs where his head is, my fingers in his hair pull him to the place that will surely have me coming undone. Noah whines softly and redoubles the efforts, his tongue flicks at my clit and then draws all the way down. Quivering and begging to release, it’s so much—too much. He doesn’t stop, moves in a way that I don’t expect. I feel his hand on the inside of my thigh, scratching, inching its way up, up, up until his middle finger is slipping inside me. My back arches, my head goes to static, he melts me under his touch. His tongue, his eyes pierce mine, locking me into him. He curls his finger inside me, and it’s one, two, three simple strokes of his tongue and the rubbing of his finger on that sweet spot inside to have me coming, and coming, and coming.

“Noah!” His name is the only word I can formulate in my head, the only word on my tongue, my lips. He continues until I can’t bear it any longer.

I can’t move, I can’t breathe, everything is Noah, his fingers, his hair, his face, his smell, his tongue—a weapon of mass destruction. I feel him, his hands trying to coax me back into the bed, but I shake my head. I can’t. I have just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life, the first one initiated by someone other than myself in the longest time, and now that I’ve had a taste, I need more.

“Don’t you dare move,” I tell him when he tries to slip away. I lift my head from my arms braced on the headboard, and when I look down beneath me, I almost come again.

Noah is glassy-eyed and grinning, and his face is absolutely soaked. From me. I did that. His hands ease me down, so I’m almost sitting on his chest, trying to hold my balance. I touch my fingers to his lips, and the cocky bastard bites at me playfully and gives his hips a thrust up, his eyes falling closed, and the smile never leaves his face.

“What’s that face for?” He asks, stretching out his arms and letting out a sigh when his back pops.

I snort. “I didn’t peg you for the smug type.”

“I didn’t think I was.” He says thoughtfully. Then his eyes wander for a second, and then laser focus right back to me. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me. I believe him.

“And you’re all spacey… Okay, I think I can move now. You, on the other hand,” I shimmy down his chest until I’m astride his hips. I can feel him hard underneath me. I shiver. I pat his chest. “Don’t move a muscle.”

“But—”

I raise an eyebrow as I reach over into my nightstand and root around in the drawer, “For someone who asked me to tell him what to do, you do an awful lot of arguing,”

He chuckles, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” I say as I settle back on my haunches and set the bottle of lube and a condom on his chest. I relish the moment his eyes trail down and then flash back up to me.

“No, not at all.” Noah’s voice is breathy and light as he realizes what I want. What I need. What I want to take if he’ll let me.