Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(19)

I was tall enough that my lips leveled with the bottom of his stomach, tantalizingly near the indents on either side of his hips. I could write poetry about those two gaps. I kissed him there, inhaling his scent, my tongue hitting the dips just above his jeans. He groaned as I licked him, rocking forward, his arousal heavy and hard, inches away from my mouth.

The moment hovered suspended between us, his body vibrating with need. And then my hands grasped his belt buckle and we careened toward release.

I unbuckled his belt, the sound of the metal clinking together crackling between us. I pulled the leather through the denim loops with a snap, the belt falling from my fingers as I attacked the buttons at his fly, another groan escaping his lips as I stroked his cock through the denim. I was a woman possessed, whatever we’d created here between us finding a home inside me.

I slid the jeans off Noah’s hips. He jerked away to remove his socks and shoes, working the pants down his legs until he stood before me wearing black boxer briefs—yum—and a wicked smile. I tilted my face up, our gazes locking, my heart a steady drum. His hand reached out and stroked my hair, his fingers wrapping around the strands like a rope that bound me to him.

Noah’s eyes went onyx, his voice hoarse. “I wanted you like this the first second I saw you. Imagined you on your knees, that look in your eyes, while I f*cked your face.”

My clit spasmed.

I’d never been a flowery-sex kind of girl. My enthusiasm for phrases like “making love” and “joining” was tepid at best. I’d never cried during sex, preferred the lights on, and nothing got me off like the filthy words that fell from a guy’s lips while he f*cked me. So on every single level, this was working for me. A lot.

“Your mouth . . . your lips . . .” He groaned. The fist in my hair tightened, pulling my head back, dangling me somewhere on the precipice between pleasure and pain until it hurt so good. “You have f*ck-me lips, a mouth made for sex. Full, soft, plump . . .”

I figured it was the only time a guy would ever get away with using the word “plump” in a sentence referring to my appearance without getting kneed in the balls. But he was right, my mouth did feel swollen, my lips sensitive, my tongue itching to lick him from base to tip.

Noah reached between us, the pad of his thumb brushing my lower lip, pressing down on the skin, opening my mouth. His fingers slipped in and I sucked them deep, the little bit of himself he gave me not nearly enough. I kept my gaze on his the entire time, the approval filling his eyes heating me from the inside out. Somewhere along the way this had ceased to be about what I wanted and instead became about pleasing him, about giving him a night he’d never forget. I’d already checked that box off for myself.

I drew the boxer briefs down his legs, each inch of fabric sliding down sucking more and more air out of the room until I could barely breathe.

He was beautiful. Big. Thick. Absof*ckinglutely perfect.

Definite Chupacabra territory here.

I leaned forward, dragging my tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting him, his hands gripping my hair even harder, his hips canting toward me, a shudder rocking through him. His reaction fed me, satisfaction coursing through my veins. I swirled my tongue around the tip, sucking him deep between my lips, the groan that reverberated through his body the best sound I’d ever heard.

I’d never felt more feminine in my life. This was power, madness, glory. This was a complete and utter shattering of his control and mine. I was the one on my knees, but it was impossible to feel anything other than the sense that I held his world in the palm of my hand.



NOAH

I’d never experienced anything that gave me the same kind of high I found in the cockpit. Until now.

She took me into her mouth and I forgot my f*cking name.

I hadn’t been wrong in all my fantasies about her pouty lips—the girl gave magnificent head, made even better by the fact that she clearly got off on it, too. There was nothing worse than a girl who went down on you like it was a chore, but this girl licked and sucked my cock as though each stroke of her tongue, each bob of her head, took her closer and closer to finding her own brand of ecstasy.

Her tongue swirled around the tip, a shiver trembling down my spine, drowning in the silky wetness and hot suction of her mouth, the urge to come between her lips.

Maybe “magnificent” wasn’t a strong enough word.

I pulled back, my hands on Jordan’s hips, lifting her up and carrying her over to the couch in the living room. One of us had entirely too many clothes on and I couldn’t wait until I had my mouth on her, until I learned if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

I settled her on the edge of the couch, my hands spreading her wide, sinking down on my knees. Jordan stared down at me with the same dazed expression that I was beginning to recognize as her sex-face, her f*ck-me mouth swollen from our kisses and my cock.

It was like someone had dropped a fifty-pound weight on my chest. And then squeezed.

I opened my mouth to speak, words flooding my mind, all of them praise I wanted to lavish on her that fell short before they even left my lips.

I didn’t know how to describe the feelings pounding through me. Didn’t know how to quantify the sensation that from the moment we’d crossed over the threshold, f*ck, from the moment I’d seen her, everything I’d known to be true had rolled and turned into a world I no longer recognized.