*whole ch of... mature content.*
"Didn't you say you'd bend me over this couch?"
He visibly swallows, fingers twitching by his sides.
"I think it's about time you made good on your word."
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People are easily seduced. A tight shirt; a short skirt; a flash of skin that shouldn't be seen. It's all the same. It's an art form really, although one that becomes significantly easier once you learn the signs of someone's attraction towards you.
University definitely prepared me well - all short skirts have the same effect on people who already have a thing for you.
I didn't expect Noah to react like this though. Call it presumptuous, but I thought someone with looks as good as his would be immune. I expected the usual smirk and a dismissive eye roll, but instead I'm really affecting him.
He's biting his fingers, his lips - glazed eyes flicking over me like shooting stars.
"I don't - I can't -"
"What?"
My lips are pursed, voice babyish, mocking.
Noah is already hardening up where he's stood, I can see the outline as clear as day, pressed against his leg when it should be pressed against me. He stutters in front of me.
I'm almost taken aback by the reaction I didn't expect.
"Maybe you're the shy one."
His face lights up without confirming or denying the comment, line of vision still between my spread legs. I spread them apart a little further, slipping down the couch.
His hands curl up.
"You do that a lot when your frustrated, you know."
"Do what?"
"Tighten your grip."
His fingers release. He swallows visibly and takes a small step towards me. I pout when he leans back against the counter once more, shaking his head.
"Your fucking brother is upstairs," he whispers, voice strained and desperate, as gruff as the last time I turned him on. It's my favourite way of hearing Noah talk - especially when he finally lets go of his morals and gives into it. "Seriously."
I shrug, flick through the channels.
Mindlessly I stretch my arms above my head, feeling my nipples rub against the cotton of my shirt. His eyes set me alight.
I run my fingers up my thigh, pushing the skirt with it, and then smooth it back into place.
One glance tells me he's readjusted himself, but is still just as hard. It points up to his naval now, drawing my attention to the fact that he's undone his drawstring. One step closer.
A new nature programme is on channel 4. I pretend I have an interest in a tropical bird that's at danger of becoming a protected species.
I pretend I don't feel Noah staring between my legs, at my chest, at my calm and collected expression. I pretend I'm not fucking soaking waiting for him to make a move.
Maybe I should tell him as much to speed the process along.
"We shouldn't do this here."
"We shouldn't do this anywhere," I retort, "and I'm not doing anything."
"You know exactly what you're fucking doing, Madelaine."
There's the hand grip tightening again, the pained look across his features.
The guilt crashes into me. It's too much and I'm coming on too strong. I'm making him feel bad. I slide my legs together and push my skirt over my thighs, feeling as if the room gets three times colder. An onslaught of rain should pour into the room and douse us both yet there's nothing between the two of us but bird calls from the TV.
I reach for the nearby blanket.
"Put your hair in a ponytail."
"What?"
"You fucking heard me, don't start acting innocent now."
The guilt washes away instantly. I adjust the scrunchy around my wrist and reach up to tie my hair in it, pulling it as tight as it'll possibly go. I eye Noah expectantly.
He approaches me as if I'm a wild animal, cautiously eyeing the door as he does.
"This is insane," he mutters. "He's gonna cut my dick off."
That doesn't appear to bother him too much since he hovers over me on the couch, using one hand to steady himself against the cushion above me, and opens my legs again. His breath is exhaled in one quick swoop, fingers teasingly stroking my inner thigh.
He doesn't speak so I don't either.
He kneels at the edge of the couch and slips his hand between my legs, one finger dipping in; groaning when he realises how wet I already am. His head drops down and rests on top of mine - I feel a small kiss placed next to my ponytail.
A small sound escapes me when his finger curls up inside me.
"If you can't be quiet at this, how do you plan on being quiet when we're actually fucking?" He mutters, sliding an arm around my back and pulling me further towards his body.
I plan to bite down on the couch. I don't get to give my cocky retort, however, because Noah suddenly inserts another finger into me, the hand across my back reaching up to my head. Suddenly it's gripping the ponytail.
"This okay?"
I roll my eyes. He tugs on my hair.
"Are you going to try and pretend to be dominant now?"
His eyes widen, "excuse me?"
"You're such a softie, Noah. Can't even keep your word." I gesture to his hovered position over my body. "Is this you bending me over? Are you just all talk?"
I'm suddenly aware of my own hair follicles as he wraps my hair around his wrist and pulls me up from the couch, fingers leaving me, body leaving mine. The sharp jaw I'm obsessed with, the dark look in his eye, the pulled skin between his eyebrows; I can't help my own satisfied smile at his reaction.
We walk as one around the couch.
He pushes me over the back of the couch, lifting up my skirt. I try to look back at him but my head is forced back down, my bum pulled higher up. I'm hyper aware of my lack of underwear, everything being on display - even the parts I'd rather not show.
But suddenly his body heat isn't behind me anymore.
He's leaning against the counter again, palming himself.
"I think I'll wait until you've lost you attitude," he shrugs.
"What?" I hiss in a whisper, standing up. I'm about to start talking about he-who-shall-not-be-named upstairs and how much he'd be scarred for life if he walked in the living to see my bare vagina facing him in a mini-skirt that covers nothing, but Noah shushes me.
"And you can bend back over as well, thanks."
I stare at him.
"Now," he nods, pushing his waistband down.
My mouth waters at the though of his doing anything - touching me or otherwise - and so I do as I'm told (this once) and bend over the couch. I look at him through my eyelashes as I lift my skirt up the way he put it.
I can't look away from him as he starts stroking himself slowly, watching me. I feel like legs widen automatically.
It isn't comfortable. My calves ache almost instantly, my thighs I'm sure will soon follow, and this can be no good for my back. But I don't move. I hover, lost in a trance as Noah's tattooed fingers move with his actions.
He is (metaphorically) soft really, he's shown it to me since I've moved in. There are no secret hard edges, not anymore, but he can pretend there are for the sake of getting me off. It's comforting to know he'll always ask if I'm okay.
It turns me on a little, actually.
My patience is starting to wear when he appears behind me once more, gently easing me into a straight line and turning my face towards his.
I don't wait for the snide remark. I lock our lips, twisting in his arms so I can be the one with his dick in my hands instead. He melts into the kiss and let's me slap his own hand away. I sit on the back on the couch and pull him between my legs, half rubbing him against me, half trying to believe someone with a cock this nice is an into me as I'm into him.
He holds my hair again. We kiss and kiss and kiss - get lost in it. Lose time. Forget about where we are and what we're supposed to be doing and the roles we're supposed to be playing.
I want his skin to be my skin, want to taste every inch of his body, want him inside of me for fucking hours.
His tongue is in my mouth and he's pulling on my hair and I'm mewling against his lips ready to beg once more. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.
A bang upstairs jolts us apart.
We both look to the ceiling and then back to each other simultaneously.
He's probably fallen asleep and dropped his phone on the floor playing some dumbass youtube video. Or maybe he's on his way downstairs right now - I don't even care.
I turn around, bending over the couch again.
Noah's body is against mine instantly, cock pressed against my entrance, practically already about to slip in with the wetness between my legs.
"I don't have-"
"Noah, I truly do not fucking care. Please-"
I have to bite down on a cushion when he enters me, my moan barely muffled by the fabric. He doesn't wait around this time, seems to realise we're on a time constraint with Matt being merely a two second walk away from catching us, and so holds my head down into the pillow as he fucks me.
I'm usually not so impetuous when it comes to condom use. I don't care if it doesn't feel as good or I don't have any or they don't fit my big massive knob - wear it or leave. Although I'm also usually not so desperate for a person that I have sex with them in a strangers closet.
Cheesy as it sounds, there's something about Noah.
I feel it deep in my gut; I have nothing to worry about with him. He doesn't sleep around, he isn't speaking to a boat load of other women, and he's actually a genuinely nice person (can't say I've slept with many of them.)
His hips snap into mine, the slap of sex echoing around us. He slows down as soon as the sound must register in his mind, gently easing in and out of me instead. I feel every intimate inch of him push into me each time, torturously slowly then.
His fingers stroke down my back. He curls my ponytail around his forefinger. He leans down to kiss my shoulder.
"I do try to keep my word," he whispers.
I barely register what that means as I try to push myself back against him to meet every thrust of his hips.
Gruff little 'uh uh' sounds continue to be lost in the pillow. Part of me wants to be silent, another wants Noah to know how good this is.
"You look so good," he continues quietly, "perfect girl."
With each word whispered in my ear I begin to think that everyone finding out wouldn't be too bad. Who would really care - and why would they care? It's not like us sleeping together affects anybody else.
"You're perfect," I counter. His grip on my hair tightens, I feel his cock pulse inside of me.
"Way too perfect for a quickie bent over the couch," he continues, ignoring me. His words, just as they did yesterday, have the biggest effect on me. I screw my eyes shut to try and keep quiet, feeling the word 'perfect' circulating through my body, touching the very core of my soul.
Suddenly the full feeling vanishes entirely. Noah pulls out, a cold breeze appearing out of nowhere, and helps me up.
In a daze, I spin around in his arms, automatically looking down - Jesus Christ. Wet, glistening, big, so hard for me that my eyes must be desperate when they find Noah's again.
He puts large hands around my ass, lifts me up like I weigh nothing, and carries me around the sofa, sitting down with my legs bent either side of him. I barely register that he's lifting off my top as I slide down onto him once more.
My eyes crease, my mouth opens, the word fuck repeats in my mind like a broken record.
"You feel - so fucking good - so good," he mutters, strained.
I lift his shirt off too, pressing our bare chests together as I use the spring in cushions below us to pick myself up and drop down again sloppily.
His moan in response is too loud.
I press our foreheads together and grind down into him. His eyes flicker, his mouth opens and I catch it with my own. His tongue immediately meets mine.
His fingers leave bruises on my hips as we kiss, pressing into the flesh as if to keep me from ever getting up or leaving from this moment. He kisses like we'll never kiss again, hot and heavy, panting into my mouth, moaning against my lips, pushing himself up to meet each circle of my hips.
I wouldn't stop if a tornado hit us, never mind if Matt walked in.
I lean back to chase the orgasm I know is nearing the surface. He takes one of my nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it as his face contorts in pure bliss. I probably resemble a rabid animal as I bounce on him, grabbing one of his hands to hold over my own mouth.
He's making small sounds too, almost matching my own. Strained because he's probably trying to be quiet too. It takes me back to the wardrobe, the moaning in my ear while he came. I feel myself clench around him at the thought.
"Fuck, Maddie - baby - I'm gonna-"
Sweat mixing together. Kissing moans into each others moans. Holding him as close as I possibly can in case this never happens again.
It's like the lights turn off inside my head for a few seconds when I finish. The whir of the spinning world disappears and I'm just floating through nothingness, twitching and spasming. I barely feel that Noah is even there.
His breath in my ear draws me back down to Earth. I feel that his arms are wrapped tightly around me too, he's breathing in the scent of my neck and gently placing a kiss every few seconds.
The room feels twice as hot as it did when we first got home; it probably smells sweaty, like sex.
I feel like it's out of past experience when my legs begin moving, lifting me up. Noah's hands appear on my thighs, gently pressing to keep me in place.
"Don't move yet," he mumbles, mouth still at my neck.
"I have to pee," I whisper, "and we're naked on the couch."
He groans.
"I am literally dead."
"You look fine to me," I smile. "Come on. I'll get some... more appropriate clothes on, and we'll watch something on TV and try not to fuck each other again, yeah?"
"No promises."
He catches me in one more long kiss before I manage to lift myself off him.
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Authors Note
Thank you for all the lovely comments, they always put a smile on my face! :)