Page 80 of Worth the Risk

“And you’re fucking perfect.” He closes the distance between us, stopping me in my attempt to climb down, his greedy fingers already gliding over my ass. “Goddamn, this is the hottest surprise.”

“I was trying to get in a sexy position,” I groan, worried I’ve ruined the moment when he grabs my hips, tugging me across the island several inches. “Oh!”

“This is perfect,” he says, spreading my cheeks and leaning in to slide his tongue straight up me in one long lick.

“Ohhhh.”

“I told you I wanted to eat you for dessert.” He grabs a barstool, dragging it around to the end and straddles it, his face now perfectly eye level with my most intimate areas. “And I’m about to eat my fucking fill so I hope you’re ready to indulge me.”

His hands caress and spread me, his tongue swirling, dipping, and flicking me in ways that have my moans filling my apartment. I don’t even notice that my knees have gone numb from how long I’ve been kneeling when I shake through my third orgasm in a row.

“Come here. I don’t want to wear you out yet.” He helps me onto my back, then pulls me upright so that he’s standing between my spread thighs at the edge of the counter. My body half-limp from the intensity of my climax.

“Is it always like this with you?”

“What do you mean?” He looks at me like he always has, his eyes roaming over my face like he’s trying to memorize everything about me.

“So intense.”

“No.” He kisses me and it’s tender, the taste of my own release on his lips. “What you and I have is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Sometimes I worry I won’t be able to keep up.”

“With our sex life?” I nod and he smiles. “I won’t deny that I have a healthy appetite, but I also have never had access to you before.” His lips are back on mine, his hands sliding up my thighs.

“We can’t just have sex every night.”

He pauses kissing me for a second. “Sex not every night, got it.” He begins to unbutton his shirt but returns to kissing me.

“Wait.” Now I pull back. “I didn’t mean we can’t have sex every night. I meant we can’t only have sex all night.”

“Fine,” he agrees, tossing his shirt on the ground before reaching for his belt, “not a lot of sex.”

“We can have a lot of sex. I?—”

“Baby,” he finally says, holding back his frustration, “I’m gonna need you to please put a pin in this conversation for me, okay?” His hand is around the back of my neck, the other holding his cock. “I promise we can talk about fucking or not fucking all night, but I’m about to lose my goddamn mind if I don’t get inside you within the next thirty seconds, okay?”

The strain in his voice is evident. He drags me from the counter, kissing me like he’s about to be sent off to war and then bends me over.

“It’s gonna be quick.” He’s already sliding into me. “And a little rough.”

It’s rough but it’s not very quick.

I’ve learned that quick according to Austin is waaay longer than quick according to Noah. By the time he finishes, I’ve come once more and I’m in deep need of a break.

“Just relax.” He kisses my nose after cleaning me off and sitting me on the stool. “Allow me.” He reaches down, bringingmy foot up to unbuckle the ankle strap. “You never did tell me what occasion these shoes marked.”

“I feel a touch embarrassed saying it out loud now.”

“Are we doing anal tonight?” He wriggles his eyebrows and it makes me giggle.

“The last pair I bought were for a sad occasion, things ending with Noah and me. I wanted to have a pair that had to do with us.”

He places one on the floor, reaching for my other foot.

“Is that what these signify? The beginning of us?”

“Not the beginning, no. I like our beginning, our story of how we met on the train.” He smiles, running his hand up my calf after removing the other shoe.

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