Light the Lamp (25 page)

 

 

She hadn’t reacted
in any way to my declaration, other than a protracted silence that had only ended when I’d changed the subject, but now she wanted to go to bed. She still hadn’t agreed to stay, I didn’t know what I would do if she left me.

I’d had all day to think about what I’d inadvertently said while I was making love to her. The longer I’d thought about it, the more I was sure that I really, honestly did love her. It didn’t seem like it should be possible, because Liv had been the love of my life and I’d never thought I would love like that again.

That was just it, though. I didn’t love Noelle like I loved Liv. I loved her in her own way. It was different, but it wasn’t any less powerful or all-consuming or life-altering. It was just…different. Much like Noelle herself.

I hadn’t released her since the moment we first sat on the sofa and started talking, always keeping a hand on her, if not more than that. I couldn’t bear to lose any more time with her than I had to. Being with her was the only way I could possibly figure out how to meet her needs.

And if I couldn’t figure it out, and she left…

Time was fleeting. That was no secret. It was a lesson I’d learned the hard way, and not one I had any intention of repeating. What I would miss most if she left was simply being with her, watching her smile, holding her. The little things. The quiet moments. Those were the things I’d struggled to deal with once Liv had died.

It would be no different if Noelle left. I already knew I would be going about my business someday, thinking everything was fine and that maybe I was finally moving on with my life, and then the image of Noelle’s skirt fluttering around her ankles in the wind would crash into me like a plane hurtling down from above, and I’d lose my ability to breathe. To function. To live.

But that was in some potential future, not the here and now. I breathed in the scent of her as she stood up to go to bed and stretched her arms overhead, my hand lingering at her waist. My unwillingness to let her go wasn’t limited to merely the emotional. Physically, I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to touch her again.

“
Can I come to bed with you?” I asked on impulse. There wasn’t a thought in my head other than finding ways to be with her. “Just to hold you,” I added. I wanted to take all of her in, see her smile… Every moment possible, I wanted to be wrapped up in her and her in me. I wanted to make love to her again, too. I wouldn’t even attempt to convince myself otherwise. Only the next time I got that privilege, I intended to do it right. To undo her the way she could undo me, to “use” her, to borrow her word, until she was as overwrought with emotion as I was and she couldn’t deny she loved me, too.
 

And she did. I knew it. She would never have let me make love to her last night if she didn’t love me. Maybe she didn’t know it yet, but I did, and I needed to help her to understand it, to give in to it.

If she recognized the fact that she loved me, surely she wouldn’t leave me—even if I hadn’t sorted out how to give her what she needed. If she loved me, she would give me more time.

But no matter what I wanted, she might not want to let me make love to her tonight. She might be too sore from last night still, or maybe she would realize what I was trying to do. But I at least wanted to hold her, watch her sleep. So I could feel her in my arms and know she was with me and safe and had a warm bed to sleep in and enough food to fill her belly.

Only a week had gone by since she’d come into my life, but already I was noticing changes in her body. She wasn’t quite as thin, and her bones weren’t quite as close to the surface of her skin as they’d been not too long ago, but I still wanted to see her put on more weight.

The wait for her to answer me in any way seemed endless.

Noelle took my hand, the one that had been at her waist, urging me to my feet. She put both arms around my waist, drawing me close until we were sandwiched together and her cheek rested against my chest. I closed my eyes and held her, completely enveloped in her scent and the delicate strength she possessed. Hers wasn’t a physical strength; it was the sort that allowed her to love and care and give. I was lost in her, and I didn’t ever want to be found.

“
You can come to bed with me,” she finally said, and I released the breath I’d been holding. “You should go change, though, so you don’t leave your suit lying on the floor again. It’ll wrinkle.”
 

I wasn’t worried about my suits. They could always be sent out to the cleaners and pressed and everything would be fine. If it came down to it, I could buy more. But if she wanted me to change clothes and hang up my suit, then I would do just that. At least in this, I knew how to give her what she wanted. “All right,” I said, but I didn’t let her go yet.

After a minute, she pulled herself free and went into her bedroom, saying, “Go on, Liam. I’m tired,” and I had no choice but to go into my own room and put on something to sleep in. I hung up my suit and found a T-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting shorts. When I got to her door, I knocked.

“
Come in,” she called out.
 

Noelle had already climbed into bed. The covers were down low enough that I could see the cute pajama top she had on—a purple tank with a bright-yellow smiley face with the word
Happy
beneath it in bold yellow lettering. It suited her in every way.

“
You make me happy,” I said and then felt like a dope. Who says things like that even if they’re the truth?
 

She shook her head, one eyebrow up in question.

“
Your shirt.” I pointed at it, and then I felt even stupider than I had before.
 

“
Oh,” she said, looking down with a smile on her face. “Yeah. I didn’t remember what I’d put on.” She patted the spot beside her on the bed.
 

That was enough of an invitation for me. I went around to the other side of the bed to get in. As soon as I sat beside her, I leaned back against the pillows propped up by the headboard, and she reclined into me, letting her head rest on my shoulder just like she always did on the couch. She felt right like that, as though she fit within my arms and there was nowhere else in this world she ought to be.

And there wasn’t, as far as I was concerned.

Her hand fell on my thigh beneath the covers, and that was all it took for me to harden. I groaned—I couldn’t help it—and shifted slightly away from her touch.

“
You don’t want me to touch you?” She pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry. I just—”
 

“
Don’t be sorry. You can always touch me.” I swallowed, trying to get myself under control. “I just don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want, Noelle.”
 

“
I want to touch you.”
 

I wanted her to touch me more than I wanted to breathe, but I didn’t want to hurt her. “I want that, too,
älskling
, but I want a lot more than just a touch.”

“
So do I.” Her eyes fixed on me, firm and resolute.
 

“
You’re not too sore?”
 

This time she blushed, which only made me want her more. Noelle was many things, I had come to learn, but shy and retiring didn’t seem to be in her repertoire. She licked her lips, drawing my eye there. “I’m sore. But I still want more. It’s a good sore.”

“
Okay. Touch me any way you want,
älskling
. Do you want me to touch you?”
 

Her hand returned to my thigh, bolder this time, a sharp contrast to her barely whispered, “Yes.”

I took her chin with my thumb and forefinger, tipping her face up so I could kiss her. She opened without any prompting on my part, sighing as I slid my tongue in to explore. To taste. To tease.

Her tongue stroked mine tentatively, and she raised herself up on her knees until she was looking down on me from above. I took her face in both my hands, angling her head and holding her in place so I could take the kiss deeper. She held on, one hand on my shoulder as I ravaged her mouth.

Soft, little mewling sounds came from her throat, similar to her tinkling laugh but huskier, deeper. Full of want. I bit her lower lip, and she gasped.

“
You drive me wild with needing you,” I said, moving to kiss and nibble and lick her neck.
 

With every kiss I gave her, she hissed in a breath through her teeth. In no time, she was giggling again and squirming to get closer to me. She lifted one leg over my lap so she could straddle me and held on, planting both hands on my shoulders. Her heat came down over my painfully hard cock, taking me closer and closer to the point of a madness I didn’t want to end. She just had on panties—cute pink boy shorts with lacy edging.

“
I love your laugh,” I ground out. I did. If she was any other woman and laughing at a time like this, I might take offense. But with Noelle, I knew it was simply part of her. How could that not make me love her even more than I already did?
 

She leaned further into me so that my whiskers abraded her neck. “I love your scruff. It tickles.”

She thought it tickled? So did my chest hair. I was laughing when I slid my hands down her sides to her waist, to the bottom of her tank. I’d just started to slip my fingers beneath the hem and glide them slowly up her flesh when she beat me to the punch. She ripped off the pajama top and tossed it behind her. I couldn’t tell where it landed; I was too focused on staring at her beautiful body. She had these small, perky breasts with hard, pink nipples straining toward me.

As soon as she got her top off, she reached for my T-shirt and started to tug it up, her fingers tangling in the hair on my chest and pulling. I had to give her credit—Noelle knew what she wanted and she wasn’t shy about trying to get it. She just went for it, no thought, no shyness, no inhibitions. All or nothing.

I wanted to give her everything. I couldn’t fall into the same trap I had last night, though. I couldn’t put myself and my own needs first. I had to take care of her in every way, whether she thought it was necessary or not. Based on our few encounters to this point, I was about 99.999 percent positive she’d never had an orgasm. I couldn’t let that still be true by the end of the night, whether I got there myself or not, so I put my hands over hers, stopping her from removing my shirt. “Slow down,
älskling
. Tonight we can’t be in such a rush. Let me love you slowly.”

“
I don’t want slow,” she complained, still trying to tug her hands free so she could rip the T-shirt over my head.
 

“
How do you know that?” I laughed again, bringing both her hands together so I could hold them still in one of mine. “You’ve never let another man touch you. No one but me. You’ve never had slow.”
 

“
But I have had fast. I liked it. I want that again.” She leaned over and bit the side of my neck. It was like an electric jolt to my cock. She kissed me where her teeth had just been.
 

With the pad of my thumb, I drew circles around the areola of one breast, almost but not quite touching the hard nub in the center. “Trust me,
älskling
. Try it my way this time.”

She arched her back, pressing herself into my hand. I plumped her whole breast in my palm, and her head fell back. She didn’t think she wanted it my way, but maybe now she was learning it wouldn’t be so bad.

I took my time exploring her breasts, eventually releasing her hands so I could use both of mine. She didn’t fight me anymore, just used them to keep herself upright or to press against mine, urging me to do more of something she liked. When I took one hardened peak into my mouth and circled my tongue around her nipple, she groaned, driving her hips down onto me so hard I could feel her wetness through my shorts and her panties. I kneaded her other breast in my hand.