Page 47 of The King Contract
Noah and I silently find a slow, tortuous rhythm. The unmistakable feel of how turned on he is only adds to the tension, his breathing ragged in my ear. His hand lowers beneath the hem of my shorts, straight into my underwear, and curls around my ass. He squeezes roughly and lifts me higher, quicker, encouraging me to increase my tempo against him.
The chase of the high overpowers every sense I have left, and I oblige without a second thought. I lower my head, turning slightly so I face his neck as I grind against his leg.
“I’m going to crash here,” Callum says. The fridge door closes, and a drawer opens. “Hopefully we get some good swell, and we can go for a surf in the morning?”
“Sure.” Noah’s voice is clipped, strained.
“What time will you be up?”
“I’ll message you,” Noah grits out.
As we continue to grind, I smile. Callum appears oblivious, preparing something in the kitchen behind us. The TV likely drowns out the rustling of fabric and movement, and he can’t see us in the reflection of the windows from this angle.
The more my pleasure climbs, the more daring I become. I turn my head slightly and drag my teeth over Noah’s ear lobe. His breath quivers and a strained croak sounds from his throat. His hand moves from my butt and finds its way to the front of my underwear, where he rubs his fingers over my clit.
A silent orgasm rips through me, and I tuck my head into the crease of Noah’s neck, biting down into his flesh to suppress the noises desperate to escape my throat. His breathing is quietly erratic, and he quickly tucks me closer to him, tickling my hair as I hear the shuffle of feet.
Callum walks by us in the living room as Noah stops rocking his hip, holding me into his chest as I come down from my high. I don’t know whether he came too, but Callum’s presence meant we had to stop, regardless.
“I love this movie,” Callum says, flopping down. “How hot is Jamie Lee Curtis?”
“Shh!” Noah hisses.
I assume it’s his way of diverting attention away from the two of us, pretending I’ve fallen asleep. Or maybe it was a panic-response, and he didn’t know what else to say.
I know I should clean myself up, but Noah doesn’t let me move. I know I should also be freaking out, analysing and assessing what we just did. Instead, I sink into his body, Noah dragging his fingers up and down my back.
Laying against Noah’s warm flesh isn’t awkward or weird. It’s comforting. My body sags against his as I start losing the battle to keep my eyes open. My breaths match Noah’s as I listen to thelow hum of the television and Noah’s voice vibrating through his ribcage as he talks quietly to Callum.
He continues to trace his hand up and down my back, like a boyfriend would to his real girlfriend after bringing her to orgasm. It’s hypnotic and relaxing, and the tension from today slowly ebbs away with each stroke.
I’m already on the brink of sleep when Noah presses a kiss to the top of my head.
Turns out, therearesomeperks to having a fake boyfriend.
18
NOAH
Nauseating
It wasn’tthe alcohol that had me acting that way last night.
I was clearheaded enough to know Millie dry humping me was so fucking hot I didn’t want to stop it. Since I woke up this morning, I haven’t stopped thinking about Millie rubbing up against me or how I got to explore some of the most intimate parts of her with my hands, running them over her silky skin in near darkness. I’m getting hard again thinking about it.
We slept on the couch last night. Millie passed out in my arms, and I didn’t want to move her. Eventually, I drifted off too. When I woke up there was a blanket covering us, which Callum likely draped over us before he took himself to bed.
The storm carried on throughout the night and conditions warn a surf is out of the question, even for us. Callum messaged to say he was going back to sleep, so I’ve spent the better part of an hour staying still to not wake Millie, needing to piss, and replaying last night.
When Millie’s eyes eventually flutter open, there’s a heartbeat where she looks as if she’s blissfully unaware of any troubles. She smiles at me, almost confused as to why we’re stillwrapped up together. A couple of blinks later, I see her reality set in, and she sits up, subtly moving away from me.
“Morning,” she says huskily, holding the blanket up to her chin.
“Morning, Maelstrom. Did you have a good sleep?”
“Yes. Like a rock. Your couch is comfy.”
“My chest is too.” I smile at her to ease any discomfort she might have, and she smiles back. “Bet the orgasm helped as well.”
