Page 72 of The Girl I Once Loved

To her, fucking me is like a proverbial walk down memory lane, instead of the earthshattering thing it really is.

And the masochist in me is all too happy to accept her terms.

Because while we stay in this limbo, we can play pretend. Pretend that every touch isn’t an I love you. That every kiss isn’t laced with a pain that we both need to heal, knowing that can only be done by sharing our bodies, even if our hearts aren’t ready to do the same.

Even if this ends in tears and heartbreak, I’d rather hold onto this small piece of paradise while in her loving arms, than have nothing at all.

Chapter Seventeen

Skylar

No words. Just us. Just this.

It’s my refrain over the next week.

As Noah and I…fuck constantly.

“Kiss me,” he demands as his hands cradle my face. It feels far too intense, him staring at me like this, so I close my eyes.

He pulls gently on my hair. “Eyes open, baby,” he orders, and I can’t help but listen.

Noah’s lips close over mine, his tongue dipping in and tangling with my own. Fuck. I missed the taste of him.

I don’t know how I’ve lived without it.

I feel lightheaded when he pulls away, the room spinning around us. There’s an empty ache inside of me as he leans forward to taste me once again. I whimper, pulling at his hair as I move against his leg, trying to get some type of friction to ease the pain.

I’m desperate for him. It’s been like that since the beginning though, hasn’t it? I just expected time would change that.

How foolish was I to think that if I showed up at his door, and just fucked him once, it would be out of my system for good. A final goodbye that we never really had.

I’d been such a fool.

Noah deepens the kiss, holding me in place as he licks at my mouth. His other hand has moved to my ass, and he’s kneading it possessively as he rocks my body against his. There’s no hesitation in his touch. Every graze of his hands feels like he’s staking his claim. Making me his.

And I don’t know what to think about that.

So I’m not thinking about it at all.

No words. Just us. Just this.

His hand slides between my legs, his fingers rubbing against the seam of my leggings. “Fuck, you’ve soaked your pants. What a good girl,” he purrs.

And another gush of wet heat floods my panties.

“Tell me you want me, and I’ll let you come,” he growls as his hand pulls my leggings down.

I’m up against the wall in my bedroom. He’d come home for lunch and apparently the only thing on the menu he craved was me.

“I want you,” I cry out as his fingers slide over my panties, massaging my clit. He bites down on my ear and I moan, leaning my head back against the wall as he licks and sucks from my ear, down my neck, until his tongue is tracing the lining of my shirt.

“Please, please, please,” I beg, and he pulls away to grin at me wickedly.

“Arms up,” he demands, and like a puppet, I follow his command. As soon as my arms are up, he’s sliding my shirt off and unhooking my bra so my breasts spill out.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” he rasps as his lips immediately latch on to my nipples. His mouth closes over one, sucking hard. I buck backwards from the sensation, a small orgasm fluttering through me.

“Yes, Yes, Yes,” I chant as he moves to the other breast. His teeth lightly bite down, and I’m not sure I’ll survive the pleasure.

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