The Best is Yet to Come

Thirty Four: Noah

For the first time in my life, there's a peaceful quiet in my mind.

All my focus is completely absorbed by her, not leaving much room for thoughts of anything else. My every movement, every kiss, is strategically placed to elicit a delicious response from her. In a weird way, I'm thankful for all the "experience" I've had before today. There's no way in hell I'd be this controlled while on top of her if it weren't for the woman who came before.

My stomach tightens in pleasure with every moan that escapes her lips, and there's a lot of them. I practically begged her not to cover her mouth when she attempted to use her fingers to stifle her moans. I want to hear every moan she makes, though I fear I might lose it just from the sound of her.

I kiss Emma like it's my purpose on this earth to do so, like my only task in life is make her gasp and wiggle beneath me. And the more she responds to me, the greedier I get, until I've turned it into a little game for myself: See how loud Noah can make Emma cry out his name.

She's so easy to please and my confidence builds as I realize there's no wrong way to touch her. Every caress and kiss causes her eyes to roll back into her head. I navigate down her body, taking my time; pausing to suck and torture every inch of her skin until she's completely naked, looking like a damn goddess beneath me.

Perspiration beads on her forehead and her lashes flutter wildly. She's absolutely breathtaking and I wish I could show her what she looked like right now. She'd never question her beauty again.

It's between her whimpers and my unwavering kisses that I realize I never want anyone else to see her like this again. Ever.

I want all of her breathless gasps to be mine. I want her fingernails to dig into my skin, tattooing me with half moon circles and scratches. I want her to tug my hair and kiss me like she'd drown if she couldn't. I want her to associate my touch with my relentless need to see her writhe in pleasure beneath me.

I want Emma to blush furiously every time she thinks of this moment.

And later, with my head between her knees, she screams my name in ecstasy and I don't want anyone to ever have the satisfaction it brings to see her like this. Breathless and undone, she's radiant; her hair cascades over my pillows and clings to her face, sheen with sweat.

I lay myself beside her, watching as her breathing slows and after a few minutes, I'm certain she's fallen asleep. I place a feather light kiss on her head, careful not to wake her.

She's sprawled in a tangle of arms, legs and hair. Feeling like she might be too exposed, I carefully pull on the edge of my comforter and try to cover her bare body. I hadn't expected her to fall asleep but I guess I should take it as a compliment.

I can't stop myself from stealing glances at her. I'm trying really hard not to be weird but I can't help it. Her face looks so different when she's asleep. With all her features completely relaxed, she looks younger; more innocent. But I'd rather die than be caught staring at her as she slept so I turn and lean over the edge of the mattress to click off the lamp. I snuggle into my pillow and close my eyes, using the sound of her steady breathing to soothe me to sleep.

************

I wake up from the force of a swift kick to my leg.

"Ow. Fuck." I wince and force myself up on my elbows, looking around for the source of the pain.

Emma is restless beside me. The blanket is hardly covering her now and her body is glistening in the light, slick with sweat. Her brows are furrowed, her mouth curved downwards in a frown. She whimpers and her leg kicks out again, digging her heel painfully into my thigh.

I bite my lip in pain. Jesus Christ, she's strong. I rack my brain, trying to remember what you should do when someone is having a nightmare.

Her leg flexes again and I scramble out of bed, eager to get out of the line of fire. I stumble blindly across the room, wearing nothing but my boxers and feel my way to the light switch. She screams loudly when I flick on the light, and I squint from the sudden illumination. Emma bolts upwards, her eyes wide and blood shot. She grabs at her bare chest, which is heaving heavily, and her face relaxes in relief, as if she's surprised to find herself still alive.

I watch her from across the room, not sure what I should say or do so I choose to stay silent, not wanting to upset her any further.

Finally, Emma looks up and her eyes make contact with mine. She looks sad and embarrassed and mumbles softly, "You don't have to stand there, Noah. Turn off the light and come back to bed."

I do as she asks and the darkness snuffs out my senses. I shuffle back to bed, reaching out blindly in front of me until my knees collide with the edge of the bed and I carefully sit beside her.

After a long silence I say, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She waits a few beats and whispers sadly, "Not particularly."

I reach over, feeling for her hand and she jolts when my fingers make contact with her skin. I pull back nervously, worried I might have frightened her but she grasps my hand and squeezes tightly. I pull her against my chest and lay us back against the pillows. With her head tucked in the crook of my arm, I cover our bodies with the blanket and close my eyes. Emma snuggles closer to me, nuzzling her face into my chest and I relish at the feeling. Her skin is cool to the touch and I rub my palms against her to create a warming friction.

Placing a kiss on the top of her head, we lay in silence until the darkness inevitably pulls us both back into a deep sleep.