He chuckled. “You think you’re better than it, don’t you, baby? You think you’re better than sex?”
“No,” Nicole said hotly. “But I don’t want…that,more than anyone else.”
Noah gripped her wrists, pulling them above her head. “You calling me a liar?”
“No.”
“Good.” He bent his head and wet heat encapsulated her left nipple. She cried out, her hips rising to press against his. Noah pressed back without hesitation. She could feel him beneath his jeans, hard as iron. She imagined it sliding deep inside her and an involuntary whimper escaped. Noah laughed, moving back so that she ground against thin air. “Not horny at all, are you? Not desperate for a fuck?”
“Shut up!” she said, from some pocket of fury she hadn’t known she had.
He nipped her ear, firm enough that she gasped.
“You listen to me now. You think you’re so good, so pure, better than all us animals who fuck. You’re wrong. You’re the kind who needs to be touched every day. And I’ll prove it to you, right in this room, you hear me?”
Nicole wanted to tell him he was stupid and gross and wrong, but it wasn’t as strong as her curiosity. Did he know her better than she did? Than her boyfriends did? Was he talking rubbish or was he about to make a fool of her? He already had, she realised. He was a big, mean man who washed dishes and painted masterpieces and bought her white wine. He refused to stay where she wanted him to.
“I said, ‘you hear me?’”
A shiver wove its way down her spine. She was trapped between Noah’s soft sheets and his hard body. The world was dark and quiet around them—they might have been the only two people in the world. “Yes. I hear you.”
“Good.” He nipped her ear. “From here on out you’re gonna shut your mouth and feel, and I don’t want to see any of this pretend pouting bullshit. I don’t need you to play Barbie doll for me. You want to get fucked and you will. Just take it.”
She nodded, her need like a physical pain.
A flash of teeth. “You’re gonna love it, but you really want me to stop, you say my full name, okay? You know it?”
“Noah Harold Newcomb.”
His hands loosened around her wrists and the air between them changed. It was the ‘Harold’, she realised. He didn’t know she knew his middle name, his father’s name. She felt the unspoken things rise between them and was sure he was about to get off her, but then he leaned forward and bit her earlobe again. “That’s right. Now, tell me you want to get fucked.”
She nodded, relieved and aroused.
“Say it.”
She closed her eyes. “I want you.”
“Close enough.” Noah sat back on her hips. “How long’s it been?”
Since she had sex? Nicole cast back. Maybe six weeks? No, more like eight? God, when was the last time she and Aaron had slept together?
A hard tug on her nipple. “Just say it.”
“Um, a few months, I think.”
She felt him smile, heard it in his voice when he said, “Good. Now lie back.”
Nicole obliged, keeping her hands over her head and her thighs together. He shut the door and the room became even darker. She snuggled back into Noah’s sheets enjoying the warm and softness of the cloth. She’d never imagined him owning nice sheets—but she’d never imagined a lot of things about him.
She could hear him taking off his clothes, but the darkness swallowed the view. She wondered if he was into doing it with the lights off, or if the darkness was for her benefit. She did like it. Aaron always wanted the lights on and the curtains opened. He’d drag her to the mirror as often as he could. She got used to being exposed but she never liked looking at herself during sex, no matter how many body positivity articles she read.
Noah grasped her hips and climbed on top of her again, higher than before. His bare hips bracketed her stomach and his cock fell along her chest, almost to her chin. The hairy drag of his testicles on her belly was so strange, she squealed. “What are you doing?”
Noah tapped her cheek. “No talking.”
“But—”
“It’s what I want, Nikki.”