Page 117 of Just My Type
The most perfect moment of all.
“So, are you going to tell me why my stuff is in your apartment?” I ask, my voice muffled against her neck.
“Oh!” she exclaims, laughing as she pulls back. She tries to slide off my lap, but I grip her hips to keep her there, unwilling to let her get too far away. “It’s my grand gesture.”
“Moving my shit to your apartment is your grand gesture?”
She grins and leans in, kissing me. “Sure is. It occurred to me the other day that I never really filled you in on my future plans.”
“Oh?” I ask, grinning back at her, her happiness contagious. “Do tell, Gorgeous.”
“My plans are to stay here. In Boston. Boston has been home for me since the second I showed up at your parents’ house last winter—it just took me a little time to figure it out. I love it here. In this city but also here in this brownstone with my sister and Amelia and your brothers. With your parents dropping in and Cece right next door. With all the craziness of family dinners and unlocked doors and movie nights and family. And with you. I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t. Basically, it means separate apartments are out of the question. So, I bribedyour brothers to get you out of the house today, and Amelia and Jo helped me move your stuff in here. You live here now.”
I grin at her and lean back on the cushions, stretching my arms across the back of the couch, so happy I could die. “I don’t know, Han, I kind of like my apartment.”
She grins right back. “I mean, it’s more of a symbolic kind of thing. If you want to live down there, then I’ll move all my stuff right now. I just want to be with you. I don’t care where. But if you do want to live here, I’m turning the spare room into a library just like yours downstairs because now that I’ve seen your dark green floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, I don’t think I can live without them.”
I wrap my arms back around her waist and tug so she’s sprawled over my still shirtless torso, and then I plant a kiss on her forehead. “We’re putting a desk in there too.”
“For you?” Hannah asks.
“No,” I laugh. “I’m a surgeon. I don’t need a desk. For you, Hannah. We’ll build an even better library up here with a desk for you to write your books and a couch for us to lay on at night while you read them to me.” I give her a salacious wink, and she collapses against me, giggling.
“So, you’re really okay moving up here? It occurred to me after we lugged your dining room table up the flight of stairs that maybe I should have asked first.” She shrugs. “Bad timing, I know.”
“Fuck yeah, I’m okay with it. I love you, Hannah. Like, capital L Love you, today and for the rest of my life. I don’t care where I live, as long as I get to live with you. Your apartment is closer to the roof, and also, this is the place where you found your words again and, I think, found yourself. This is your place, Gorgeous, and my place is wherever you are.”
“Fuck, I love you,” Hannah murmurs, her eyes glazed with emotion. “I didn’t know it could feel like this. I’ve written love so many times, but it turns out I didn’t know a single thing about it until I met you.”
I frame her face with my hands, kissing her, a little thrill running through me, knowing that I get to kiss her whenever I want for the rest of my life. “Think of how good all your love scenes will be now that you have the hottest muse on the planet who loves you more than anyone has ever loved anyone in the history of the world.”
“In the history of the world, huh?” Hannah asks, smirking at me.
“In the history of the cosmos? The galaxy? I’m not sure. What’s the oldest thing? I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone in the history of that.”
“That’s a whole lot of love,” Hannah says, grinning at me.
“Bet you ass, Gorgeous.” I slide my hands down and cup her ass. “I think I better show you exactly how much, right here and right now.”
Hannah looks up at me, glint in her eye as she slides down my body and off the couch onto her knees, curling her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and tugging until my cock springs out. “I think maybe I should show you first.”
“Fuck me,” I mutter, as Hannah traces a finger over me, collecting the bead of precum already pooling at my slit. With her eyes on mine, she sucks her finger into her mouth and releases it with a pop. Then, in a single motion, she reaches down and pulls her dress over her head and when I see she’s not wearing a bra, I practically have to clench my ass cheeks together to keep from coming on the spot. “Jesus Christ, Hannah. You are stunning. I need my mouth on those perfect tits right now.”
Hannah leans down and licks a hot stripe up my cock, swirling her tongue around the head before sitting back up and giving me a coy look. “I know patience isn’t really your strong suit, but you’re going to be a good husband and sit there while I suck your cock until you come down my throat. Then you can taste my tits—and any other part of me you want.”
“Oh, my god,” I mumble, as Hannah gives me a brilliantsmile, so at odds with her filthy words, that I’m still trying to work it all out when she bends and takes me straight into her mouth.
Then, I’m not thinking of anything at all.
“Holy shit, Hannah,” I gasp, one of my hands fisting the couch cushion and the other diving into her hair, grasping her ponytail for dear life as she takes me into her throat until she gags around me. Tightening my hand on her hair, I guide her up and down on me, groaning every time I hit the back of her throat. Her mouth is wet and hot, and pleasure gathers at the base of my spine as she sucks me down. It takes every single ounce of control I have not to thrust my hips up.
Hannah hums and rubs her thighs together, and the idea that she’s getting off on having my dick down her throat has a desperate noise falling from my own.
“You’re a fucking dream on your knees for me, baby,” I rasp out, as she glides her tongue along the underside of my cock. When she tongues the sensitive groove underneath my head, my hips jerk up from the couch before I can stop them. I make a move to lift my hand from her hair, but Hannah just moans around me, covering my hand with hers and squeezing. I get the message immediately, pleasure arrowing through me.
“You like that, Gorgeous? You want me to fuck your throat?”
Hannah slides off of me, lifting her head, and the sight of her, bare tits, flushed face, swollen lips, and tears pooling in her eyes, is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. “That’s exactly what I want. I like it when you lose control a little. So do that, Noah. Lose control with me.”
