by Alisa Woods
Noah didn’t realize his fists were clenched, balled up on top of his knees until Emily’s small, warm hand landed on one of them.
“Noah,” she said, her voice full of pain, “I’m so sorry.”
He forced himself to finish what he had to say. “My mother eventually killed herself. I was the first to find her bleeding out on the floor of our kitchen. I was eleven.”
“Oh my God.” Emily was up on her knees on the couch, throwing her arms around him again. The shaking was gone, from her at least, although now Noah felt like he could barely force his hands to unlock to hold her steady against the softness of the cushions. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” he said, fighting back all the horror that day always conjured. He gently eased her back so he could look her in the eyes. “I wanted you to know so you would understand my reaction to… to this horrible thing your uncle did to you. And so you’d know that if there were any way I could fix that for you, I would. Men like that don’t deserve to keep breathing.” He lightly touched her cheek with just his fingertips. “You bring out the alpha in me, Em. The one that wants to protect you from anything bad in this world. Because you should be loved and cherished and never forced to do anything, least of all that. I can’t do anything about your uncle now, but if you’ll let me, I want to show you how a woman should be loved.” He meant every word, even if those words surprised them as they came out of his mouth. Because it was this that had been drawing him to her all this time—her passion for wolves, her belief in the good side of them, and this vulnerability in her that his alpha sensed from the beginning. She had been hurt… and somehow his beast knew that Noah could be the one to help her heal.
Emily seemed to fight for words, but eventually, she said, “Maybe not all wolves are good. But Noah Wilding, you are everything I ever thought they might be.”
He couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know about his lineage, the white wolf and what that meant, but he would take it. He would let her believe he was good because it was what she needed, right here, right now.
“Good enough to kiss?” he asked, the smile growing a little.
“Good enough to be my first,” she said, eyes shining. Then she climbed into his lap, legs to the side, hands weaving into his hair. “I believe this is where we left off,” she said softly, then she pressed her lips to his.
He soaked in her gentle touch, then brushed her hair back from her face, taking her cheeks in his hands and kissing her softly in return. He felt her breath quicken, but he kept his pace slow and measured, teasing touches over her clothes, light strokes with his tongue, tender nibbles at her neck. Her hands were becoming more frantic on his shoulders and in his hair, and it had his cock straining against his pants, but he just eased her up to standing in front of him. He needed her clothes off in order to please her the way he wanted to. He lifted her shirt and gently kissed her sweet belly as he undid her jeans and slipped them down her legs. Her panties went next, and when she stepped out of them, he slid her delicious little bare bottom back into his lap.
With one hand held at her back, the other slid under her shirt to sweep caresses across her breasts. Her nipples were hard again, and it took everything he had not to tug her shirt off and feast upon them. But her reaction before meant he had to go slow… and he would go as slow as it took to get her there. The pink rising in her cheeks, the nearly soundless heaving of her chest, the aching parting of her lips… all of it was giving him the hard-on of his life. But there was no way he was doing anything but gentle for her in this first time she was with a man voluntarily. It was a gift of trust she was giving him, and he wanted to pay it back with an orgasm she would never forget.
She was tugging at his shirt. “Noah!” It was a cry of frustration.
“Would you like this off?” he asked, his own breath ragged.
“Yes!”
He reached back to pull his shirt off over his head, having to release her for a moment to get it free. Then her hands were roaming his chest and his shoulders, her hot breath on his cheek as her delicate fingers were setting his skin on fire.
“You like that?” he breathed into her ear as he nuzzled her cheek.
“Oh God, yes.” Her lips traveled down his neck, nibbling at his shoulders with little kitten bites that were making him moan.
He slid his hand under her shirt again, playing with her nipple, then cupping her breast, and gently kneading it. “How about this?”
“Yes. More.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” His hand trailed down her belly and slipped between her legs.
She gasped, but it was the good kind. Still, he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She eased her legs apart, giving him greater access. The scent of her arousal was like a cloud around her, a perfume of desire that was making his head swim. When he lightly slid his fingers along her sex, he found she was already so wet for him.
“You’re making me crazy,” he whispered into her neck between kisses.
She whimpered as his fingers slid across her sex a little faster. He lightly touched her most sensitive nub, and she shuddered so deliciously in his arms that he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to keep up this slow pace. She grabbed his face in her delicate hands and kissed him deeply. He probed her mouth with his tongue as he slipped a finger slowly inside her. She tensed just for a second, then kissed him even more furiously.
His cock was straining so hard against his jeans he was afraid it might burst out.
Her hands found his chest again, grabbing at him, pulling him closer even though he was already inside her, slowly thrusting, even if it was just with his finger—first one, and then two. She moaned when he slipped in the second, then made that kitten-mewling sound again as he brushed her nub with his thumb. God, the sounds she was making.
“Ms. Emily Jones,” he said hoarsely, “I need your shirt off, my love. Is that all right?”
She instantly released her clawing hold on him and quickly dragged off her t-shirt and the hapless bra left hanging from before. His hand was still working her, thrusting slowly inside, in and out, and she was panting all through it. Once her clothes were on the floor, he eased her back on the couch, holding himself above her, still pleasuring her with his hand. Her head tipped, her back arched, and her nipples pointed in the air, calling to his tongue. Her pale skin was everywhere flushed with the pleasure he was giving her, and he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
He eased himself down, his hand still between her legs, his chest brushing against hers, rocking with her as he felt her pleasure gain speed.
“Goddamn, you are so beautiful, Em.” His breath was ragged on her face, his own need for her aching deep inside him. “I want you so badly.”
Her hands gripped his shoulders, and her head lifted. “Make love to me, Noah.”
He grinned. “I am, my love.” He thrust a little harder with his hand for emphasis.
She dropped her head back and groaned. “I want you inside me!”
He rocked his body harder against her, plunging deeper with his hand. She arched up against him and gasped.
He nuzzled her cheek. “I am inside you, Em. Come for me, and I’ll do anything you ask.” Then he worked his way down her neck, soft kisses that grew stronger, turning to wet bites that devoured her sweet skin until he reached the luscious mounds of her breasts. He took her nipple in his mouth, his moan mixing with hers. She was grabbing at him now, crying out sounds of pleasure. He swore he might come just listening to her. She bucked and cried out and suddenly her sweet flesh was convulsing around his hand, his fingers working the pleasure from her body in gasps and moans and quivering wetness. He kept going until she sunk into the couch, all tension released and skin glowing. A very masculine pride welled up in him: he had pleasured her. And by the looks of it, it was an orgasm she’d remember.
Her soft hands sought him, bringing his face back up to hers, but her eyes were still shut. She kissed him and said, �
�Oh, my God, Noah.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He couldn’t help the grin.
She finally opened her eyes. “Is it always like that?”
“No.” He grinned wider. “It definitely gets better.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m not sure I can survive better.”
He kissed her, eased his hand slowly from between her legs, then kissed her quickly again on the nose. “I certainly hope you can. Because I am far from done with you, Ms. Jones.”
He loved her look of hunger—of just flat-out lust in her eyes—as he stood and unbuttoned his pants.
Emily stared at Noah as he slid off his jeans and his cock sprung free.
There was beautiful male anatomy—gorgeously sculpted muscles, thick pulsing cocks—and then there was Noah. Mouth-wateringly taut stomach, strong thighs that looked like they could bench press her Prius, and a cock so long and thick and stiff that she seriously doubted it could fit inside her. She couldn’t wait to touch him, so she did—she swung her legs off the couch, slid her hand along his satin-skinned cock and wrapped her lips around it.
“Holy—” Noah pulled back before she could even get a good taste. “Oh no,” he said with a dangerous smile. “None of that. Not yet, at least. God, Em, I’ll never make it through if you do that.”
“What then?” she asked, licking her lips. “You said you’d do anything I asked.” The orgasm she’d just come down from—that Noah had given her with only his fingers and his mouth—had loosened something inside her. Made her bold and hungry for more. She was with him, in this moment, and she was going to have every inch of it… and him.
His grin was back. “I did say that, didn’t I?” But instead of answering her, he sat on the couch next to her and pulled her toward him. “But first things first. Straddle me, Em.”
Her eyes went wide, and as her gaze dropped to his cock, now standing tall up from where he sat, she wondered again if it really could fit. It seemed doubtful. And something else occurred to her that she hadn’t even thought of before, in the heat of wanting him.
“Shouldn’t we have, you know, protection?” she asked.
He eased her into his lap, facing him this time, but she wasn’t quite lined up to take his enormous, gorgeous cock inside her. Yet.
He smiled as he caressed her breast and rolled her nipple between his fingers. “Want to know something about wolves that few humans do, Ms. Emily Jones?”
She leaned into his touch, bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck. “Always.”
“We can scent a woman’s fertility. Wolf or human.” He slipped his hand down her belly to between her legs again, sending an insanely delicious rush of pleasure through her.
She couldn’t imagine how much better it would be with him inside. “What does that mean?” she asked, breathlessly, although she was caring less by the second.
“It means I know I can make love to you ten times tonight and not make any babies.” He gently thrusted two fingers inside her, making her squirm. But she didn’t want his hand.
“Are you sure?” she panted against his cheek.
“Very. I’m not the kind of wolf who spreads his seed around the human population, not carrying if his hookup is fertile, leaving his halflings to fend for themselves in his wake.” He gently eased his hand out of her and held her back to look in her eyes. “If I make a baby with you, Emily Jones, it will be because we both want it.”
His words and his touch and her need for him were all making her ache. Then he moved under her, sliding just a little so that his cock was lined up with her entrance. His hands on her hips were urging her to lower herself down, impale herself on him, and she didn’t need any more encouragement. She felt his tip slip inside her, stretch her, already so much larger than his fingers had been.
She gasped and stopped. “You’re so big,” she breathed.
“Take as much time as you need,” he said, but his voice was strained.
She lifted her hips a little then took him deeper. It felt like he was filling her completely, stretching her impossibly wide, but she hadn’t even taken half of him inside yet. “Oh, God, Noah.”
“Easy,” he said, voice rough. He lifted his hips, pressing a little deeper, then pulling back again. “You’re so tight, Em. God, you feel good.”
The fact that she was pleasuring him drove her on. She took a breath, forced her body to relax, leaned in to kiss him… and sank down fully on his cock.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered against her lips, then his head tipped back on the couch. “You’re killing me, Em,” he said to the ceiling. “I might die in the process of loving you, but it’s so going to be worth it.”
She grinned and slipped her hand behind his neck, lifting his head back up to look at her. “Don’t die yet. I’m not done with you.”
“God, woman,” he breathed. “Please move.”
Already her body had adjusted to the massive fullness of having him inside her… so she did. Lifting her hips then pressing back down, just once, wrenched a moan out of both of them. She did it again, and again, each time getting a little easier as the wetness gushed between her legs.
“Oh Jesus,” Noah whispered. “So tight. So good. Ride me, Em. Harder.”
She couldn’t even form words. The pleasure was insane and building fast. Each stroke was a lightning rod straight to the hot nerves in her sex, stretching wide all around him, hugging him tight, taking him deeper inside with each stroke. His hands held her body, warm and firm, guiding her and urging her on. Then he slid one to the front, circling her still-sensitive nub with his thumb. She shrieked with the bolt of pleasure that shot through her, tipping her head back, gripping his shoulders, and pounding down on him as hard as she could. Stars swam in front of her eyes as the pleasure rushed to a peak then exploded throughout her body, pulsing from where she and Noah were connected, joining bodies and moans in one cascade of sound and pleasure. It was so much more than the first time. As the waves of her orgasm started to subside, she slowed her pace, but kept riding him, kept moving, kept taking him deep inside.
He was still hard. Just as hard and full as before. Right as she was wondering if she’d done something wrong, Noah’s strained voice broke through the haze of pleasure buzzing her brain.
“Emily,” he gasped.
“Yes?” She looked down at his face, hardened with something that might be pain, but she didn’t think it was.
“I want to take you like this,” he said, voice rough. He held her tight as he shifted positions, laying her back on the couch with him on top. His cock was still buried inside her, connecting them with something indescribably intimate as he peered into her eyes.
“You’re the most beautiful thing in this world, Emily Jones,” he said, voice still tight, but more under control. “Tell me I can have you this way.” He slid almost all the way out and then thrust back in, harder than any thrust she had been able to manage perched on top of him.
She let out a breath of surprise then reached for him, digging her hands into his back. “Harder,” she said, looking straight into his eyes.
He groaned, his eyes hooding with pleasure, then he thrust into her again. Still fresh off her last orgasm, she didn’t think she could feel any more pleasure, but this… this was something entirely new. He thrust again and again, each time jolting fresh heights of pleasure through her.
His groan turned into a growl. “You are mine. All mine.” Each thrust was another possessive pulse, pushing her higher. Then something deep inside her wound tighter than it had ever been and released in an orgasm so hard it had her throwing her head back, screaming his name, and bucking so hard against him that she lifted them both momentarily off the couch. Noah’s growl went guttural, and he froze. She could feel his release, pulsing hot, filling her with that seed that he promised wouldn’t make babies for her.
Even as she fell through the cascade of her receding waves of pleasure, she believed him in his promise… and almost wished it weren’t true. Because
she could already feel the heartbreak, the separation that would come, first their bodies, and then more. It would have to come eventually because Noah Wilding was a shifter, and a shifter wouldn’t keep a human like her. She wished for a small piece of him to take with her… a child with his warm smile and gentle eyes. It was utterly foolish to wish for such a thing, but she let herself do it, just for a moment, while he was still inside her, still groaning his release, still coming down from the peak of pleasure he’d driven her to three times. And when he finally pulled out, lifting himself away from her, disconnecting, she let that little dream die… as it should.
She wouldn’t regret any of this, no matter if it was all there would ever be.
Because she had never felt more fully alive in her life as she did in that moment… and she owed it all to Noah Wilding.
Noah nestled his face into the crook of her neck, still breathing hard. “I think I might have died and gone to heaven.” His arm was heavy across her chest, even though he was holding most of his weight off her, but the thick post-pleasure haze enveloped them both like a cocoon, and Emily wouldn’t move out of it for anything.
They lay that way until their breathing calmed.
Then Noah lifted his head to look in her eyes. “You okay?” he asked gently.
“Much better than okay.” She smiled.
He returned her smile, and it lit her from within. Then he kissed her softly on the lips and rose up from the couch. A small pain sliced through her chest. Was it already over? Would he send her home? But before she could get too far with that train of thought, much less make it off the couch, Noah scooped her up into his arms. He was ridiculously strong, as if lifting her and cradling her to his chest took no effort at all.
