RUSH (City Lights, #3)(76)
She shifted, I fell it slip away, and then she was clutching me around the neck, pulling me to her.
I kissed the soft roundness of one breast, then trailed my tongue along its curve. I felt the texture of the skin change and then took her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, while my thumb rolled in lazy circles over the other. Christ, her breasts were perfection. I felt like I’d waited eons to taste them and kiss them. I moved from one to the other, nipping and sucking them hard with my mouth, and then soothing them with soft, gentle strokes of my hands.
“No more,” she finally cried.
She had my shirt off in a heartbeat, and then pushed me back on the bed. I felt her over me, her hair curtaining around us, tickling my cheeks and forehead. She kissed me in that maddening way of hers, soft and wet, running her tongue along the seams of my lips until I half crazy with lust, and had to plunder her mouth with mine.
The wet sounds of our kiss, Charlotte’s scent, her body straddling my hips…I started to lose myself, but she must have sensed it. She sat up, resting her hands on my chest. I could feel the heat of her through her panties, on my aching erection. But she held very still, and lightly dragged her hands down my chest, over my abdomen, tracing the contours of my muscles.
“I’m here,” she whispered and then I felt her hot mouth on my skin, kissing the place over my heart. She trailed her mouth to the other side. “Here.” Down, to one nipple. “And here,” she said and sucked lightly.
She continued on like this, and I followed the sound of her voice, the feel of her mouth. Little pinpoints of sensation. I no longer felt like I was drowning, but my desire to have her was becoming the fiercest hunger.
“Charlotte…Now.”
“Yes,” she said, and I felt her move off me; I heard a drawer open and close.
I stripped off my jeans, and my erection strained against the fabric of my boxers. Was she as ready as I was? I needed to feel how badly she wanted this, and again, as if she could read me, she came to me, straddled me, put my hand between her legs.
God, she was naked, and the soft, wet heat of her…I sucked in a ragged breath.
“Can you feel it? How much I want you?”
“Yes…”
“I’m ready, Noah.” Her hand slipped down to stroke me. “I want you inside me.”
I grabbed her then, crushed my lips to hers and rolled her onto her back. She pushed at the waistband of my boxers and I felt something in her hand scratch my skin. A condom packet. Thank God, I thought, for I couldn’t take it slow for one more damn second.
I stripped naked and she rolled the condom down. But once we were ready, at last, I had to make sure she felt safe, that she knew I wanted her more than I wanted her body, and I braced myself on my forearms over her, kissing her deeply, softly.
“Charlotte, I can’t see your face. I need to know…”
“I’m smiling at you, Noah,” she said softly, stroked my cheek. “Because I’m so happy we’re here. I’m so happy it’s you.”
I kissed her again, and then slowly—so slowly— I sank into her, into the warm, wet, softness of her, and oh, Christ, I’d never felt anything so good or perfect in my life until that moment.
I felt everything with impossible ferocity, and Charlotte’s body, her entire being, became my world. My skin lay flush with hers, we breathed the same air, and I was inside her. Somehow that felt impossible and new and more intense than I’d ever imagined. A tiny voice whispered that I was being stupid, that my blindness wasn’t entirely why this moment felt so monumental. It’s because it’s Charlotte, and that was the truth.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, my ego forbidding me to show weakness, because of the two of us, I was the one that needed reassuring that I wasn’t going to disintegrate into a million points of light.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh yes. You feel so good. So good…”
“You feel incredible,” I told her, rolling my hips slowly. “You feel…” Like everything I’ve ever wanted.
I kissed her, my body arched over hers, moving faster now, and she pulled me closer, angled her hips to take me deeper. Her hands were all over my back, her nails digging into my scarred flesh and the unblemished alike, as if they were one and the same. Her hands surged into my hair, and I felt her fingers brush the hideous scars there too, with no recoil. Only acceptance. More than acceptance, because it wasn’t that she felt my ugliness and decided it was okay. She made no distinction between scarred flesh and whole. It was just me that she wanted, as I was, and who is ever lucky enough to feel that in this world?
The urgency between us grew; my body was moving now on its own and it took everything I had to hold back. I felt Charlotte shift somehow beneath me and her hands were gone from my back. I had to know what she looked like, what her body was doing, before I became lost in pure sensation.
I felt her mouth rise to meet mine in a kiss that was all tongue and wet lips and barely contained hunger. I groaned into her mouth, as my left hand found her breasts, stretched taut somehow. I kept exploring, over her collarbone, her shoulder then up her arm to find she was gripping the headboard above her head with both hands.
The image that created in mind came swiftly: her hands clenched above her head, bracing herself, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her luscious mouth a perfect O of pleasure.