dress up with it. He captured my mouth even harder, sucking in a breath on a passionate kiss before he broke away and lifted the dress up and over my head.
My arms were still in the air when he threw my dress somewhere behind him, and he reached up, meeting my hands with his own as he kissed me again. He wound his fingertips with mine, and somehow, what his hands did to mine was even more sensual than the kiss, than his t-shirt on my half-naked body, than his hard-on pressing through the fabric of his black sweatpants.
I didn’t ask to take his clothes off. Instead, I trailed my hands down, his fingers following mine until I slipped them between us. His hands found my waist as mine dove beneath the band of his sweatpants. I trailed my fingertips from hip bone to hip bone, just under the band, and I groaned when I realized he didn’t have briefs on beneath.
“You surprised me,” he mused with a smirk. “Didn’t have time for underwear.”
“Would have just gotten in the way,” I breathed. Then, I gathered the hem of his shirt in my hands and tugged.
Noah lifted his arms, letting me strip him before he reached around me and unhooked my bra.
I inhaled a stiff breath when he slipped the straps of it over my shoulders, the fabric eliciting a wave of chills as he dragged it down my arms and let it fall on the floor between us. His eyes dipped to my exposed breasts for just the smallest moment before he found my eyes again, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard in his throat.
Then, his lips were on mine again.
My knees buckled when he pressed me back farther, and I fell into his sheets. His lips never left mine as he helped guide me up, crawling over me, every part of him towering over every part of me as he settled between my legs. I sighed when the warmth of his bare chest brushed my nipples, and the heat of him lined up with the heat of me, only his sweatpants and my tiny strap of a thong separating us.
Noah pulled back, balancing on his elbows above me as he searched my eyes, my hair, every centimeter of my face. He seemed to be tracing lines between my freckles — first with his eyes, and then with the tender tip of his finger.
“God, Ruby Grace,” he whispered, shaking his head. “What are you doing to me? I feel like I’m under your spell.”
I smirked, rolling my hips against his. “The real question is, what should I do to you next?”
Noah groaned at the contact, biting his lower lip and kissing me hard before he pulled back again, this time peppering my collarbone with kisses and shifting his weight.
“You aren’t going to do anything to me. Not yet. Not before I get my turn.”
The chuckle I meant to give in response was lost in my throat, kidnapped by a gasp that ripped through me at the shock of his mouth on my sensitive nipple. He sucked gently, rolling his tongue over the puckered tip before trailing over to the other. He massaged the weight of each breast in his hands, his mouth devouring me like I was the sweetest dessert.
And then, he trailed down.
His lips wandered like lost travelers over the hills and valleys of my rib cage, sliding down the middle of my abdomen, traipsing the freckles between my hips before he settled on his elbows between my thighs. His eyes were dark and hooded as he gazed up at me, and with that look of sin holding me captive, he pressed one, feather-light kiss to the wet center of my panties.
I moaned, back arching up off the bed as my fists twisted in the sheets. When he slipped his thumbs under the straps of my thong and slowly trailed it down my thighs, I couldn’t help but watch, and I loved the way his eyes darkened even more when I was bare beneath him.
I’d never had anyone that up close and personal to my vagina.
Anthony never went down on me, and as far as I was concerned, it was just something that happened in the romance movies Betty loved to force me to watch. But the second Noah had my panties off my ankles and dropped somewhere off the bed, he dragged his tongue up the inside of each of my thighs, and then, he pressed that same brush