Page 26 of Stick Move

I stand over her, my eyes telegraphing my commands and she shifts her position until she’s centered in the bed.

“Legs,” I command, and she whimpers as she opens. Everything in the way she wants to hand herself over to me, for me to take control, tells me how desperate she is to hand her pleasure over to someone else, to give someone else control for once in her life, and the fact that it’s me, fills me with heated need.

She slowly inches her legs open and the second I glimpse her damp pinkness, I wet my lips, eager for a deeper taste of her.

“Noah,” she whimpers, and my gaze travels back to her face as a hard quake goes through me. I swallow down my eagerness and square my shoulders, striving—really fucking hard—to pretend I have any kind of control.

“Hands above your head.” I gesture with a nod. “Grip the headboard slats. I want you wide open for me.” Holy fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman tremble quite the way Brighton is trembling and it’s fucking incredible.

“Noah,” she whimpers, and wiggles on the bed.

“You need something, Brighton?”

“You,” she cries out. “I need you.”

For the briefest of seconds, her words stop me cold. How long have I wanted to hear those words on her lips. But that gives me pause. Is this really happening? Should it be happening?

Yes, it is and no, it shouldn’t.

What are you going to do about that, Noah?

“You got me, Sunshine, and I’m going to fucking devour you.”

8

BRIGHTON

Ohmigod.

I suck in a breath and try to fill my lungs as Noah lowers his head, focusing in on my sex like he’s been hungry for far too long and he’s going to eat me alive. Wait, didn’t he just finish telling was he going to do just that? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

That choice is taken away from me the second he lowers his head, and lays on his stomach. Warm hands slide under my ass and bring my sex to his mouth. A loud moan escapes my throat. A moan. Yes, that’s much better than laughing or crying. How did I forget that was one of my choices? Oh, probably because I’m restrained beneath Noah Jones, and my ability to think coherently has packed a bag and gone south.

Dear coherent thoughts: Enjoy the trip. I’m in no hurry for you to come back.

I grip the slats tighter, loving the simple command he gave me, and lift my head, dying to see his tongue gliding over my hot sex. As though feeling my eyes on him, he angles his head, and while his tongue slips and slides all over the needy spot between my legs, I can tell he’s grinning up at me by the shine in his dark eyes. He likes watching me come unglued, and I don’t want to give too much thought as to why.

“Noah,” I murmur, with nothing in particular to say to him, or tell him, or ask for. Not that I’d ever tell any man what I wanted in bed, and it’s not like he needs instructions. He’s got this all figured out and I’m sure I have a truckload of puck bunnies to thank for that. What am I even thinking? I don’t want to consider the skills he’s acquired over the years, or how he even acquired them. No, I don’t. I’m just happy he’s using them on me.

My brain shuts down as he zeroes in on my clit, sucking it deep into his hot, wet mouth. Heat rockets through me and I groan as my head falls back onto his pillow. I toss my head from side to side and close my eyes as I concentrate on the delicious points of pleasure.

He groans, an indication that he’s taking as much pleasure from this as I am, and that adds a whole new level of desire to this tryst. Tryst? Hook-up? I don’t even care what we call it, and chances are it won’t happen again, so I’m just going to enjoy it. Honestly though, my ex never much liked going down on me, so I didn’t ask for much. Actually, I never really opened my mouth over the years. I just went with the flow as life happened all around me.

The second Noah slides a thick finger in me, and one hand goes to my breast, need builds between my legs. I move my hips, and when he pushes down on me, restraining me, I half wonder if I was waiting for him to do just that. How does he know exactly what I need? Even when he was younger, I think there was a part of him that’s always been hyperaware. Maybe it’s because he needed to be aware of his surroundings, needed to read people to stay safe. That can only bode well for the resorts guests and makes me think it was a good decision to put the place in his capable hands.

Speaking of capable hands.

He moves his finger in and out of me, picking up the pace as he devours my swollen clit. My body grows hot, damp and I lift my hips, meeting and welcoming each push of his finger. He slides a second in, and grips my right hip, holding me down, which brings with it its own pleasure as pressure builds inside me.

“Noah,” I cry out, a rush of heat zinging through me and centering deep between my legs as his mouth continues to bring me higher and higher until I can’t hold on any longer. That first sweet clench has a hard cry of pleasure releasing from my lungs. He eases off my sensitized clit, circling it slowly as I pulse around his fingers.

I lift my head again and find him watching me. Our eyes meet and hold, and wow this is all so crazy. I realize this is just sex—a physical act—each of us taking what we need, but everything in the way he’s watching me pierces something fragile inside me. I gasp for breath and swallow against a dry throat as tender eyes hold my gaze.

As my spasms slow around his fingers, I let go of the slats, needing to touch him. I reach down, put my hand on the side of his face and another wave of tenderness steals over him as he leans into my touch. God, what is happening right now?

I don’t have much time to consider it as he begins to slide up my body. He pins me beneath his weight, like he knows I like it. I’m not even sure I knew that myself until…Noah. While breathing is difficult, he doesn’t ease off. Fingers that were just inside me brush my damp hair from my forehead.

“Feel good?”

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