The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,43

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His mouth on my skin sparks something deep inside of me. Wildfire flares through my veins as my thoughts blur and the only thing I can focus on is how damn good my body feels under his touch. Easily, as if I weigh nothing, Noah picks me up and my legs wind around his hips. His mouth never leaves my skin as he carries me up the stairs and to his bedroom. When we enter the room, he places me in the center of his bed and pulls back several paces, staring at me. Hesitation flickers across his expression and my anxiety flares to life.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Absolutely nothing.” He shakes his head, tugging his sweater over his head with one hand, the way he always does. He drops it to the floor and my eyes zero in on his defined abs. “I like how you look in my bed.” Noah grins, losing his jeans. He moves to the edge of the mattress and leans over me, placing a sloppy kiss on my lips.

I lie back until my head hits the mattress and Noah climbs over me, straddling my waist. He brushes my hair out of my eyes and gazes at me as if he’s memorizing my face.

I blush and he grins.

“Little Indy, what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against my left cheek, followed by my right, followed by my forehead, the corners of my mouth, and finally my lips.

By the time his lips brush against mine, I’m practically vibrating with need. No man but him has ever taken their time with me and the buildup makes me feel off-balance. I arch my back, pressing into Noah as his tongue fills my mouth. While he kisses me, his fingers deftly pop the buttons on my sweater until it hangs open, with just my black bra between us.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat as his hand cups my breast, squeezing gently. Then his mouth leaves mine as he zeros in on his hand, his fingers teasing my nipple.

I can’t tear my gaze away as Noah’s fingers brush across my nipple, tweaking once, twice, three times, before gently peeling back the cup of my bra. My nipple tingles against the cool air, tight and peaked and a dusty pink. Noah licks his lips, his gaze shooting to mine. “You’re fucking perfect, Indy,” he says, his voice rough, before dipping his head and slowly dragging his tongue around and over my nipple.

I shudder and his hand begins to work my other breast as his mouth fastens against the nipple on display, teasing and sucking until I drop my head back, moaning. Noah removes my sweater and bra entirely and lavishes my breasts with enough attention that heat pools in my center and my hips start involuntarily pressing up, searching for him, for the delicious friction I know he can provide.

But he doesn’t hurry. Instead, he takes his time, kissing my skin, swirling his tongue around my belly button, caressing my jean-clad inner thighs with his long fingers. Everything about tonight feels different. There’s a languidness to our connection when it’s always seemed desperate. Tonight, we’re savoring instead of sprinting and with each passing moment, I fall more under Noah’s spell.

Slowly, he unbuttons my jeans and drags down the zipper, his breath catching as he spots the black and hot pink thong I’m wearing. “These are sexy, baby.” He runs his fingers featherlight over the lace and I squirm.

He does it again, grinning at me. “Are you wet for me?”

I nod, licking my lips. Part of me knows his words should embarrass me. No man has ever spoken to me so boldly before. But I’m too turned on, too desperate for his touch, to care. He works my jeans over my hips and I hear them hit the floor. Noah pauses, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder and nipping at the inside of my thigh.

He licks his lips, as if his mouth is watering and I feel my core clench in anticipation. Dropping his head, he presses open-mouthed kisses against my thighs as his fingers slide over the material of my thong and the pad of his thumb swipes down my center.

I shudder and he swears, doing it again. “So wet for me, baby.” His voice is strained as he takes two fingers and circles them over my clit, featherlight at first but working into a rhythm that has my