The Missing Years - Redacted Scenes

Match

A/N: Noah and Elle's (private) engagement celebrations

Noah

The first time I wake up, I feel a moment of sadness. I'd been having a very nice dream. Then I realize that what woke me was far more pleasant and I smirk into the darkness. Elle has decided to wake me with a combination of roving hands and a trail of kisses heading ever further south down my body. Suddenly my dream pales by comparison.

The second time I wake up, I feel ecstatic. Elle is curled against my side, her head on my chest and her left hand resting on my stomach. Her left hand that now bears the engagement ring I gave her last night. We're engaged. Elle's my fiancée.

I smile and kiss her hair, running my fingers down her arm to her hand. She stirs slightly and it's enough for me to be able to extract myself from the bed. I take a quick shower and when I open the door to the bedroom, Elle is still fast asleep. I pad past the bed in my towel and head downstairs to make coffee.

Inspiration strikes once I'm in the kitchen and I decide to make breakfast. I busy myself slicing fruit and making pancakes and when I turn around to slide the last of them onto a plate, I spot her. Elle is leaning against the doorway, wearing my shirt from last night, and I'm pretty sure nothing else. Her hair is wild, her lips are pink and a little swollen. She looks gorgeous. Clearly I've caught her staring at me, so I decide to have some fun.

"You're just gonna stand there gawking?" I smirk.

Elle catches on quickly. "Yeah. Yeah I think I might." Her gaze sweeps over me, lingering on the towel before she meets my eyes again. "You don't happen to own a grey tie, do you?"

I close the distance between us in a few steps and sling her over my shoulder again, heading up the stairs. "I think I can improvise."

As it turns out, the sash from a bathrobe is a handy substitute for a tie, at least when it comes to using it to restrain Elle's hands, anyway. I don't miss her sharp intake of breath when I pull the knot tight, or the way her skin flushes when I sit back on my heels, admiring the way she looks stretched out naked on the bed. With her arms up above her head, resting near the headboard, her chest is pushed out enticingly, making my fingers itch to touch her. But I don't.

Instead, I stay put, kneeling down near the foot of the bed, letting my eyes roam over every inch of her bare skin, watching the way it heats under my gaze. Elle's biting her plump bottom lip now, staring back at me with heavy-lidded eyes. It's insatiable, this need we have for each other, and I'm not sure how we ever managed to deny it, really. But that's a thought for another day.

Right now, in this moment, I intend to enjoy every second of giving in to my overwhelming desire for my gorgeous fiancée. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm just going to give Elle what she wants right away. Oh, no, I think smugly, it'll be far more fun to make her beg.

"Close your eyes," I whisper roughly.

Elle narrows her gaze slightly but then complies without saying a word, which is a surprise to say the least.

"Hmm, good."

She knows I'm still watching her, I can tell by the way she's trying not to squirm. Elle's waiting for me to make a move, to touch her, to do something, anything. I wait a couple more breaths, just to build the anticipation that tiny bit more. And then I move, bracing myself over Elle, making certain not to let any part of my body touch any part of hers.

She shivers when my warm breath ghosts along her neck down towards her collarbone, and her chest arches upwards ever so slightly as if she's trying to meet my lips with her skin. It's a nice idea, but I'm not playing nice just yet. Elle and I have barely left this bed since I carried her up the stairs and threw her down on it last night, so I'm making an effort to make this time different.