Her cheeks are still flushed. She steps towards me, her chest suddenly rising and falling more quickly, as if she’s breathing harder.
My cock throbs, and I groan. It’s so hard that it hurts, the need burning in me as fiercely as the fever did. “Noelle—”
She swallows hard, moving closer to her side of the bed.
“Just give me a moment—”
She stops at the other side. Her gaze sweeps over me, and I can see her breathing faster, the soft leap of her pulse in her throat. Slowly, she starts to climb onto the bed, and desire rushes over me with dizzying intensity.
“Noelle, please—”
I don’t know what I’m asking her for—for her to go away and leave me to my shame, or to touch me and give me what I so desperately need. A helpless moan slips out of me as her fingers brush my chest, curling into the sheet as she pulls it back, and my eyes close. I feel humiliated by my need, helpless in the face of it, but no one has touched me in so long. Even more than it aches for release, my body aches fortouch. For the simple pleasure of someone else’s skin against mine.
I remember her touching me as I’d burned up with fever. Her hands on my face, my hair, my body, feeding me and changing my bandages, her hands moving through water that felt icy to my feverish skin as she’d bathed me. So much touch, and yet I hadn’t been really lucid for any of it. My chest aches with grief at the thought, that I’d lost the chance to feel her touching me.
She pulls the sheet away, and I tense. I feel her eyes on me, and I turn my head away, ashamed of how much I want her to touch me. How much I want her to do anything to me,everything.
I slowly open my eyes to see her kneeling next to me. Her hands are on her thighs, the sheet discarded, my body bare to her gaze.
“You shouldn’t look at me.” I swallow hard. “I’m not—I used to be—”
“I think you’re very handsome.” Her voice comes out in a soft whisper. “I always have.”
Slowly, her hand reaches out, brushing against my hip. My cock jerks, throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the tip, and I groan. “Noelle—”
“Shh.” Her hand strokes my hip gently. “Do you need this? You look like you’re in pain. But I don’t want to hurt you more—” Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “I’ve never—done anything. I’ve never even seen—before you—”
The guilt that wracks me is overwhelming. Her eyes are wide and soft, looking at me with what I know is a hint of her own desire and arousal, as if I truly look handsome to her despite being only a shadow of my former self. I can see all the ways my body has wasted away, thinned, the muscle and shape of me lost so that I’m more bones and hollows than anything else, but she called mehandsome.
I hurt her. This innocent girl, who had never evenseena man like this before me, and I took that from her by force. I opened her eyes to things she should have chosen on her own.
“You don’t—have—to do this.” My throat feels tight and painful. “You don’t—”
“I know.” She licks her lips, soft, full, and pink, and my cock jerks again. I groan helplessly, my entire body throbbing with need. When she reaches out, her fingers encircling my cock, the sound that comes from me is nearly animal.
“Oh god—oh god—” I moan, my back arching as my head falls back against the pillows, my hands uselessly at my sides. My entire body tenses as her hand tightens around my aching shaft, the pleasure of her touch beyond words. “Ohmerde,fuck,fuuck—”
“I don’t know how—” She bites her lip again, her hand slowly stroking down to the base of my cock, resting against my full and aching balls, and back up again. Her fingers brush against the head, and I let out a strangled moan. “Did I hurt you?”
“Oh god. No.” I half-laugh through another moan as her fingers tease the head of my cock, stroking and brushing the sensitive damp flesh beneath it. “God, Noelle, that feels—so—fucking—so fucking—oh—good—”
I can barely speak, the words coming out in strangled jolts as I groan again. The pleasure is washing through me, tensing every muscle in my body, and it hurts—but not enough to pierce through the ecstasy of her hand on me. I’d never in my life thought a simple, inexperienced handjob could feel so good. Yet, at this moment, I wouldn’t trade Noelle’s hand on my cock even to be back in that room of tied, posed women at Kaito’s party.
To my sudden shame, I’m not sure I would trade it even for Anastasia.
My eyes burn at the thought, grief momentarily cutting through the pleasure. I’ve never wished for anyone else since I lost her, and yet, at this precise second, I don’t want anything else. Noelle looks more beautiful than anything I can remember. She’s wearing wrinkled pajama pants and a tank top, her hair messy atop her head, and her teeth sunk into her lower lip as if she’s concentrating on something. Yet I can’t remember anything more beautiful. Her eyes are wide, fixed on my cock as her delicate hand strokes me, a bit surer now, and I wish to the very depths of my soul that this moment would never end.
I thought I’d gone to hell, but somehow I’ve woken up in heaven.
I should tell her to stop.The guilt joins the grief, pushing back some of the indescribable pleasure. It feels like a betrayal of Anastasia, my love for her, and yet—
She’s in Boston, with Liam. Taking his cock in her every night, probably. She doesn’t think of you. So why are you still thinking of her?
I shouldn’t let Noelle do this. I shouldn’t chip away at her innocence even more, even if she’s offering, doing it willingly, and yet—
Beautiful things aren’t meant to be used.
But I’mnotusing her. Her hand strokes over my cock again, sending another shudder of pleasure through me, and the thought comes through clear as day. I couldn’t force her to do anything at this moment; too weak and helpless tomakeher touch me, and yet she’s choosing to anyway.