Page 31 of Girth (Marked Skulls MC 1)
“Hey, babe,” Noah said and pulled me in to kiss me.
As always, my lips parted immediately to allow his tongue access, my body warming next to him, reacting to how hot he was.
Noah was one of the popular guys in our school. He was tall—taller than most guys in our class—and a bit lanky. However, his brown hair and amber eyes compensated for it, making a perfect combination on his chiseled face, along with his soft, plump lips.
He backed me and closed the door, never breaking our kiss, and all my worries and doubts started melting away. For a moment, at least.
“Bon Jovi, huh?” he remarked when we snuggled up on the couch.
“You know I’m c
razy about their songs.”
“Yeah. You always play their songs when I’m around.”
“I was thinking we can go to their concert. They will come to town in a couple of months, and the tickets are on sale.”
He didn’t respond anything to that, which should have been a clear enough sign that something was wrong. However, he kissed me before I could reflect on it, pressing me against the couch, and all coherent thoughts disappeared.
“Noah,” I breathed out, pulling him closer to me.
It had been a week since we’d been like this, but it felt like an eternity.
“Have you been a naughty girl these last few days, Emma? Have you touched yourself thinking about me?”
His dirty talk was one of my favorite things about him. He was a passionate and dominant lover, and he was my first. I simply knew that he ruined me for everyone else, and that no one would feel as good as him.
“Maybe.”
Supporting himself on one hand, he slid his other hand underneath my t-shirt. “Maybe?”
“Definitely.” I moaned when his hand covered my boob. I wasn’t wearing any bra, which was exactly how he liked it best. “A few times, actually. Once, I was almost caught by my mother.”
He tsked, enjoying this too much. “Shame on you.”
His lips found their way to my neck, his fingers tweaking my nipple. My breasts were extremely sensitive, so a few seconds into it, and I was already wet and breathless.
“Tell me. What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself?” His tongue traced the arch of my neck, and I shivered. “Have you thought about my mouth on your wet pussy? Have you thought about my dick pumping you hard as you scream my name?”
He lowered his hand and slid it under the waistband of my trainers. Slipping them inside my panties, he found my clit and began stroking it.
“Ah. Yes. I thought about your mouth and dick. I pushed my fingers into me imagining you fucking me hard.”
“Jesus, Emma.” He moved his fingers through my puffy lips and stopped at my entrance. “That’s good, because that’s what you’re going to get.” He slipped two digits into me, eliciting a loud moan out of me. “Look at you. Already wet for me.”
He was pumping me slowly, leaning away to look at my face. “You’re so beautiful.”
The way he was looking at me was different. He was looking at me as if he was memorizing me, as if he was never going to see me again, and it was another bad sign that I couldn’t examine further because the pleasure was clouding my reason.
I closed my eyes and arched my back, pushing my hips against his hand. He was fingering me faster now, bringing me almost close to the brink of my climax, but he didn’t quite let me get there.
Instead, he drew back and removed my trainers and panties, leaving my lower body naked. I took off my t-shirt and moved to the edge of the couch with him kneeling on the floor in between my legs.
Just as I leaned against the back of the couch, his lips connected with my swollen clitoris, his hands holding my legs in place.
“Baby...,” I breathed out, bucking my hips. My hands went to his head and grabbed him, pushing him even closer to me. “Yes. Just like that.”
I ground myself against his face, growing hotter and hotter. The pleasure spread through every inch of me, owning me, and my breathing turned louder and quicker.
“I’m going to come, Noah. I’m going to—”
I screamed and bucked my hips again, coming so hard that my whole body began convulsing. My orgasm wasn’t even over yet, when he pulled down his boxers and jeans and wrapped my legs around his waist. Still on his knees, he thrust into me and slammed his lips against mine.
He was moving like he was desperate, chasing something that I wasn’t aware of, and I responded to him with the frenzied movements of my own. I dug into his shoulders over his shirt, getting super wet with each thrust, and I felt close to another orgasm.
“You feel so good, babe,” he growled and sucked my lower lip into his mouth. He bit into it before he buried his head into my neck and grabbed my ass to move me toward him. His dick was now entering me more deeply, hitting my cervix each time, and it was more than I could handle.
Shouting his name, I came once more, but this time he orgasmed too, ramming into me one last time and stopping deep inside of me. His cock twitched once, twice, thrice, filling me with his warm sperm, and the feeling was amazing. Thankfully, I was on the pill, because the sex without condom felt way better than with it.
As soon as he pulled out of me, the euphoria dispersed, and the reality returned. I needed to know the truth.
I used the tissues from the coffee table and wiped myself before I pulled my panties and trainers back on. I sat down on the couch and twisted my hands on my lap, my heart pounding unusually fast.
“What’s wrong?” he asked me when he finished cleaning and sat down next to me again.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Um… What did you decide to do? Will you go to the army?” I asked him, nervousness coating my words.
He glanced away, clenching his jaw. “That’s not important. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he brushed it off, which only sparked anger in me.
He wasn’t even looking at me, and now I knew that things between us were more serious than what I had thought. I couldn’t keep lying to myself and living in illusions.
“No, Noah. Don’t dismiss this subject like you always do. I deserve to know the truth, for Christ’s sake. I can’t keep living in fear every day that you’re going to leave me eventually. So, tell me. Are you going to join the army?”
He stood up and walked across the room, stopping next to the window with his back turned on me. Tension coiled in me, and all of a sudden, my limbs turned cold. I stood up too, but I didn’t close the distance between us. I couldn’t.
He sighed. “Yes. I’m leaving for the army.”
Leaving? “So, you’ve already joined it?”
“Yes,” he said, hammering another nail of utter pain into me. I couldn’t believe this. He had joined the military, and he never even told me anything about it.
The tears threatened to betray me, but I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him.
“And…” My voice broke, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. “And when are you leaving?”
For a couple of moments, the only thing that could be heard was the loud beating of my heart. It was in my throat, each beat emphasizing how bad this situation was. Noah was actually leaving. In the continuing silence, I felt my heart breaking, the harsh reality of what was actually happening hitting me hard. I was losing him.
And then, after what seemed like an eternity, he said, veiling me with a long-lasting pain, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Chapter 2
Noah
Seven years later
“I can’t even explain how much I missed you, dear,” my mother told me from the other side of her dining table, certainly not for the first time since I returned home several days ago. She had invited me for dinner, which reminded me of how much I’d missed her food.
“The letters just don’t cut it,” she added.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
After so many years, I was finally back at home in Indiana, and while everything and everyone looked the same, I felt completely different. Seven years of exposure to the most gruesome and appalling acts could do that to a man.
I never regretted my choice to join the army, but now after everything I’d gone through, I remembered my mother’s feelings about it as if we were talking about it yesterday. My father had died in combat, and she had always tried to convince me not to join the military. So, when I applied without telling anyone and just left after I got accepted, she didn’t want to respond to my letters for months.
Then, five months into my service, her first letter arrived, in which she admitted she had cried for days after I left, fearing for my life.
Now, after being in war for so many years, I was back home due to a gunshot wound in my leg that had since healed but left me with a slight limp. That wasn’t the only thing the war had left me. On top of this physical defect, I had PTSD, but I couldn’t tell that to my mother. She was worrying about me enough as it was.
“Have you settled into your new place?” she asked me, referring to the apartment I started renting when I returned.
“Yes. It’s not in a nosy neighborhood, and as you saw, I have a good view on the park across the street. It’s peaceful.”
A little of peace and quiet was exactly what I needed with my condition. Ever since I developed PTSD I hated being in places where it was constantly too loud. In the beginning, I needed some time to get used to the sound of car sirens, my brain mistaking it for the danger that always loomed around my unit on the field.
I also had trouble sleeping and often had nightmares, and if I wasn’t at a quiet place, there was no way for me to fall asleep even with antidepressants.
“And how about Emma? Have you contacted her yet?”
This was exactly what I didn’t want to talk about with my mother, but she had to mention it.
As much as I wanted to, I had not reached out to the one person that mattered to me more than I dared to admit. I knew how much I’d messed up with her, but with my nightmares and anger issues, it would be best to keep her at a distance. That way I could keep her safe, and she didn’t have to deal with my problems.
“No. I haven’t contacted her.” I looked away, feeling uncomfortable under her scrutinizing stare.
My mom had always hoped Emma and I would end up married and have at least three kids, so to say she was devastated after our breakup was an understatement.
