“Yes, I will.” His lips pressed to hers.
Her eyes closed. She leaned into him.
His tongue glided over her lips. Into her mouth. Noah knew how to use his tongue so well. He wasn’t wet or rough. He was…savoring her.
She wanted to devour him.
His hands slid over her shoulders. Touched the straps of her dress.
Then the dress was sliding down to pool at her feet.
And he was kissing his way along the line of her jaw. Down her throat. Over the pulse that raced so frantically. His tongue licked over her skin. She felt the light score of his teeth on her.
Claire gasped.
“Like that?”
She liked everything that he was doing.
“What I like…” Noah muttered, desire heavy in his voice. “I like the fact that you didn’t wear a bra. Claire, I like that a lot.”
A bra wouldn’t have fit under the bodice of that dress and—
He eased away from her. Stared down at her. The lights in the suite were on, shining all around them. There was no darkness.
There was only Noah.
“So perfect.” He lifted his hand. Caressed her right breast. Her ni**les were hard. Aching. And his touch sent a surge of arousal straight to her sex.
I’m wet for him. Already.
She reached out to Noah. “I need you now.” Her fingers fumbled with his belt. “Noah, we can—”
“No.” He caught her hands. “Not yet.” He pushed her hands back to her sides. “I’m just getting started with you.”
Sex with Ethan had been fast. So quick. In the back of a car or—
“Claire.”
Her lashes lifted.
“Claire, I’m going to give you so much pleasure you won’t ever think of anyone else.” Then he lifted her into his arms. The move surprised her and she grabbed tightly to him.
But he didn’t carry her far. Just a few steps. Closer to the window. To the big, leather couch that waited right beside that glass.
He spread her out on the couch. She started to cover her br**sts, but he caught her wrists. Lifted them above her head. “Don’t move them.” He swallowed. His gaze burned her. “You look sexy that way.”
She’d been hurt badly in Chicago, and she bore the scar from that attack, but Noah didn’t seem to see it at all as he gazed at her. Noah didn’t seem to pay much attention to any of her scars.
I’m the one who can’t see past them.
But Claire shoved her doubts away right then. She was going to have this moment with him. No matter what…I’ll have this.
She still had on her black panties. Panties that she’d picked up back in New York before their flight had left. And she wore her heels. Heels that were higher than anything she’d worn before.
Noah bent his head. His lips closed around her breast. He licked. Sucked.
Claire arched against him. She wanted to grab onto him and hold tightly, but she didn’t move her hands. She kept them above her head, fisted.
His fingers worked her other breast. Lightly tugging at the nipple. Stroking her. Her hips arched again, helplessly. She felt so empty, and she wanted Noah to fill her. She wanted him to thrust deep inside of her.
Then she could pretend that she was just like every other woman. Having sex with her lover. Enjoying pleasure.
“With me, Claire.”
His hand slid over the plane of her stomach. Down, down his fingers went until he was at the edge of her panties.
Her eyes were on his hand.
“If I pull these off, they’ll just get stuck on your shoes,” he murmured. “So…”
He ripped her panties. Tore them in two and tossed the scraps away.
“That’s what I wanted.” His fingers slid between her folds. “Ah, baby, you’re so ready for me.”
He positioned his body between her legs. He’d thrust into her soon, she was sure of it. He’d—
He slid a finger into her.
Claire jerked toward him.
“So tight. You’re going to drive me out of my mind.”
He was already driving her out of hers.
“But you have to be burning up. You have to need me more than breath.” He withdrew his finger. Moved her legs farther apart. The couch was massive, so there was easily room for them both on it and he was—he was—
Noah put his mouth on her.
Claire flinched. She hadn’t expected that move. Her hands flew down to his shoulders.
“No, Claire,” the words growled against the most sensitive part of her body. “Hands up.”
Then his tongue, that wonderful, wicked tongue of his, stroked her. Slid over her. Slid into her.
Her hands flew back up and locked around one of the pillows on the couch. Her hips were arching, so he grabbed them and held them tightly. And he kept tasting her. Licking her. Kissing her. Taking her breath away as she gasped.
Every muscle in her body seemed to tense. Claire heard herself crying out Noah’s name.
Her release was close. She could feel it. No roughness. No fast groping.
This was sex. This was what it should be like. Hot. Consuming.
His tongue thrust into her.
Claire screamed when the climax hit her. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her body bucked beneath him. The pleasure rolled through her, seeming to crest again and again, and Claire shuddered with the powerful release.
“That’s a good start.”
Her eyelashes lifted. Her breath heaved out.
“I like it when you scream for me, Claire.” He put on protection. Settled right back between her legs. “Let’s see if you can do it again.”
He drove into her. His hands lifted and pinned hers in place. His eyes locked with hers.
He filled her so completely. Stretching every inch of her, and Claire froze, caught between pleasure and pain.
“I wanted to f**k you from the first moment we met.”
She tried to suck in a deep breath.
“You feel so good.”
He still had his clothes on. She was naked. In only her heels, and he was fully dressed.
That knowledge made her feel vulnerable, exposed and—
“Will you scream for me again?” He withdrew.
She wanted him back inside, as deep as he could go. Her legs flew up and locked around his hips.
“So…damn…good.”
He thrust into her again.
Withdrew.
She met him, thrust for thrust. The rhythm became wild, so hard. He was in her so deep.