Chapter 35

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"Are you ready?" Noah's voice echoes from downstairs

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"Are you ready?" Noah's voice echoes from downstairs. "We're gonna be late."

"Almost," I call back, slipping on my favorite pair of Black Jimmy Choo's.

His feet pound on the stairs, a smile curling my lips at his impatience. "Are you wearing that for the flight?" His eyes scan me from head to toe with an obvious hunger burning in his irises.

"What's wrong with it?" I quirk a brow, smoothing my hands down the white fabric ending mid-thigh that clings to my body, accentuating my curves. I turn to face the mirror, assessing my reflection. I see Noah's gaze glued to my ass, tongue darting out, pupils dilating.

"Don't you want to be more... Comfortable on the flight?"

"The flight is less than two hours long," I smirk as I watch him stalk towards me, the hunger evident in every step he takes toward me. "This will do," I wink.

"That it will," his hands take their rightful place on my hips, pulling my body against his and I feel his hardness pushing into me, sending a wave of desire through me. "It'll look much better on the floor, don't you agree?" He moves my ponytail aside, leaving hot wet kisses down my neck.

"Noah," I moan out unintentionally. "We're going to miss our flight." You like my useless attempt at ending this? In my defense, I don't want it to end. I can't seem to get enough of Noah, of the way he makes me feel. All I want is to spend every moment exploring his body with every part of mine until the feel of him is engraved in my memory.

Something tells me that won't be enough to curb the hunger I feel for this sex-God of a man behind me. It'll never be enough.

"Should've thought about that before you decided to drive me insane with how stunning you look," he breathes down my neck. His hot breath hitting my wet skin does all kinds of things to me.

I circle my arm around his neck, weaving my fingers through his black hair, "Lydia is going to kill us," I mumble as his hands move sensually down my thighs, inching closer to my already-dripping center that's aching for him – since I got sick.

"Let her," his hungry gaze connects with my hooded one, fingers inching my dress up until my glistening white thong is on display.

"But" I bite down on my bottom lip as his fingers slip beneath the soaked material, making torturous contact with my clit.

"But?" He huskily whispers against my neck, gliding his fingers down my wetness, thumb moving in circular motions against one of the most sensitive parts of my body.

"Fuck me," I pant out, practically grinding his hand.

"Say, please." He growls out, stopping his movements and I wanna fucking explode. I'm sexually frustrated to the point that I'm snappy and grumpy. It's been just over a week and a half.

"Please, Noah," I whimper but to my own ears I hear the desperation lining my voice, the begging behind my words.

"Please what?"

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