Page 42 of Beauty and the Cop
I nod, heat spreading through me at his far-too-polite question. He leans away for a moment, nudging me to roll away from him. Heat spreads faster when he curls around me again, his cock pressing between my legs from behind.
He stills, groaning. "You already feel so fucking good, Dimples." He presses a kiss to my shoulder, then lifts my leg, lining himself up with my entrance.
He doesn't push into me, though. Instead, his hand slips between my legs, his thumb swirling over my clit.
When I'm whimpering, he tilts his hips, sliding inside inch by delicious inch until I feel as full of him as I did last night—fuller, even.
He splays his hand across my stomach. "You okay?"
I nod, unable to speak through the powerful sensations twisting through me.
"Good," he murmurs, his thumb sliding over my clit again. He doesn't move, not a single inch. He just buries his cock deep and holds it there, one hand keeping my leg hiked over his hip. The other works slow, sweet circles around my clit. He knows every trick already, every angle and pressure point. It's like my body told him all its secrets last night and he remembered every one.
He kisses the back of my neck, little nips and soft, open-mouthed kisses, his beard scratching in a way that makes me shiver.
"That's it, Elsie. Let me feel you," he whispers, his voice all gravel and sugar. My name sounds like a prayer in his mouth.
I arch against him, needing friction, but he doesn't thrust. He just keeps his cock perfectly still inside me, stretching me open, coaxing all my nerve endings to the surface.
My toes curl.
I reach back, digging my fingers into his hip as I come apart around him.
"You're so beautiful like this, Elsie," he murmurs against my ear as the pleasure cracks me open in waves. "So fucking sweet—every sound, every perfect squeeze. You make me lose my mind."
"Noah," I whimper.
"I'm going to make love to you again, slowly this time. Carefully." He finally, finally moves, pushing his hips forward as he speaks. And somehow, after having him still inside me for so long, after being desperate while he cracked me open, that little move is enough to send me hurtling right back to the edge. "Loving you"—he pulls back as slowly as he had surged forward—"completely." His hand curls around my breast again, his thumb brushing my nipple. "Stay very still."
I do as I'm told, too helpless beneath the onslaught of gritty whispers and gentle touches to do anything but listen. He makes love to me as slowly and completely as he promised, crooning as he uses his hands and body to wreck me.
The way he moves against me, the sweet words he whispers against my ear between soft moans and breathless groans—it's intimate, and so much more beautiful than the first time. I don't know how that's possible, but it is.
By the time he's ready to let me come, I'm a stuttering, pleading mess, sobbing his name.
"Fly for me, baby," he says, his mouth at my ear and his hand stroking between my legs as he rocks his hips against me.
Friction builds to a physical ache inside me, more powerful than before.
"I'll catch you. I'll always catch you," he says, his voice low and full of promise.
I sob his name as I slip off that edge again, shattering into a million glittering pieces.
He follows me over, moaning my name as he spills inside me, hot and perfect.
When I float back to earth, he's still whispering, his voice thick with sleep and emotion, his fingers stroking softly across my cheek.
"There you are," he says, smiling down at me.
I can't help but smile back.
We lie in silence for long moments, me watching him as he watches me, as if memorizing my face.
"You never said it," he finally whispers.
"Said what?" I bite the inside of my cheek to hide a smile, knowing exactly what he wants to hear but unable to resist teasing him.
His hand goes still against my cheek. "Don't tease me, baby. I need… I need to know."
