Page 77 of Dollhouse

I groan, frustrated with him, but I need this. “This is stupid” I grit. “I’m beautiful.”

He drags his tongue upward, swirling at the top as his thumb presses inside me. “Again,” he says, working me over with his mouth.

I hate it, but I keep going, because nobody has ever made me feel the way he does. Like my pleasure is paramount and my body is a beautiful puzzle to be put together rather than the wasteland it feels like now. True to his word, when I falter at complimenting myself, he stops until the words bubble forth again. And, after a little while, they stop sounding so horrible. It doesn’t feel so stilted, dishonest.

My core tightens around his finger as it presses all the way inside me, grazing the sensitive spot he finds every time. My voice breaks on the whine that it causes, hips using Noah’s face for friction like he doesn’t need to breathe anymore. He simply slips another finger inside me and curls his hand tightly around my leg, holding me in place as he devours me. His eyes are heavy on my face, his dark lashes fringing the hunger inside them.When he looks at me like that, I lose what little restraint I have left.

My body shakes, betraying me as my head falls back to the desk. I feel the hum of his dark laughter against my core, and I thread my fingers in his hair, grinding against his mouth until my legs tighten and my back bows. He strokes inside me until my orgasm is torn from my body, drowning him in my pleasure.

“There’s my girl,” he smiles as I cry out, his wicked lips glinting with my arousal. It’s me and my taste in his mouth that has his eyes hooded like he’s just as lost in this lusty haze as I am. “My pretty little Angel, don’t youeverdoubt how much I fucking need you.” He leans in closer, standing out of the chair and looming over my sweat slick body. His mouth a breath from mine, and hair tickling the side of my face. “You do not doubtme. Understand?”

I nod, breathless. “Okay, Noah.”

He kisses me, stealing the air I’m struggling to take in ruthlessly and pulls away, standing tall and roving the image of me across his desk. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

“Wait—” Brow furrowing in confusion, I grab his sleeve. “No, please, I want you. I’m not done.”

Sighing, he pulls my hand from his shirt and lifts it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “Em, this isn’t the time, okay?”

Frustrated tears prick at my eyes. I scramble to my feet, my dress falling haphazardly back around my thighs as I go to stand in front of the door. “You don’t get to make that decision for me. I said I'm ready, and I want you.”

It’d be easy to think he looks cold like this, because it’s Noah and his poker face is decades in the making. But I know him. The sharp exhale gives him away when he spots the slickness still coating my thighs.

His glare could pin me to the door, but I stand strong and he scoffs. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Em.I’m trying to keep you from forcing yourself to do something you aren’t ready for. Something you won’t know if you’re ready for until we’re in the middle of it. I don’t want to be inside you when you realize you might not be fucking okay with me being there.”

The ache in my chest throbs painfully, only because he’s placed himself in restraints to keep from pushing me. Putting himself in shackles until I can break my own. It’s the confirmation I need that what I want ishim, all of him, in every way that can make me feel good and make me forget.

“I love you,” I say simply, hands falling to my side. “Please, let me have this. I’m not afraid and I need to know you aren’t either.”

“But I am.” His hands run into his hair, eyes closing as he thinks. Remaining silent, I watch as he shakes his head then drops his eyes back to mine. The next few seconds are loud in my ears as he searches me and I let him.

“Fuck it. But you’re in control here, okay? It’s the only way I know I won’t push too far.”

I nod greedily and the need is already back in his stance as I stalk forward, desperate to sate the thirst that burns inside me. Pushing the papers to the side, I try to clear a place for us but he moves faster, swinging his arm across the top so that the pens clatter to the floor and papers fly in zigzags to the ground.

He sits back on the desk, unzipping his pants as his mouth parts, eyes crawling over me as I eat up the sight of him pulling his cock out. I’m on my knees for him in a moment, desperation heavy in my gaze as I take him in my mouth.

“Fuck, Em, I didn’t mean for you to—” He bites his lip, hands going to my shoulders as he attempts to pace me, but I push them off.

I’min control right now.

Licking the underside of him, I swirl my tongue around the head and suck him slowly as I find a comfortable position.

Like his hands can’t help themselves, they wind into my hair, gentle as he gathers the strands back so his view of me is unbroken.

Mine is perfect, the puffs of air from his slightly parted mouth as he watches me, finger-mussed hair wild and his arms flexing as he grips the ponytail he’s made for me.

And then, just for a moment, the taste of blood filters in. The hellish memory of the last person who’d been in my mouth before I’d killed him.

I blink rapidly, and his face tightens, trying to pull back as he sees my expression change. “Em?”

Catching my breath, I wipe my mouth and shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

He just watches me, saying nothing as I sniff and peek back up at him. Scooting forward, I flick my tongue across the head as he growls in his chest. Somewhere between ending this and wanting to surge into my mouth. I suck the tip of him for a moment, pushing the memory from my mind.

“Look at me only,” he says roughly, the harsh control he has on himself heavy in his voice. “It’s just you and me here, baby.”

I soften, exhaling the tense moment through my nose before I swallow him deeper.