Runaway Pt. 04

His lips were all the answer I needed as they brushed against mine.

"You okay?"

I nodded. "You?"

"Yeah." His fingers found the back of my hand, tracing small patterns on it. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"All the shit I've stirred up by being here."

"Noah, don't—"

"None of this would have happened if—"

"You're right, I wouldn't have even made it here if you weren't here."

He sighed. "I don't belong here."

"If you don't, then neither do I."

He tried to say something more, but I brought my hands to his neck and pulled him towards me.

"I've had enough talking tonight," I said firmly, kissing him as I finished speaking.

He hesitated, silently protesting before kissing me back. His hand moved to my side as I twisted towards him, his lips relaxing against mine, his breath warm against my mouth.

My body began responding insistently. A warm feeling spread from my chest to my stomach, needing him, wanting him more than I wanted anything in the world. Not really sure what I was doing but following what my heart was telling me, I crawled onto his lap. Noah sighed against my mouth, his other arm wrapping around me as he pulled my torso close to his.

The denim of his jacket was rough under my palms as I ran my hands along it. They found the opened edges of the jacket and slipped inside. I caressed his chest, strong and firm beneath his T-shirt, before pushing the jacket off his shoulders. He let go of me just long enough to let the jacket slide off his arms. Before it had even hit the bed, his arms were back around me, hugging me tightly to him as we kissed.

My mind may not have known what I wanted, but my body did. I trailed my fingers along Noah's neck, tickling a spot behind his ear that made him shiver, then ran them through his hair. He made a quiet noise as I lightly tensed my fingers around the thick, dark strands of his hair, my fingers moving lightly against his scalp as I touched him.

I wanted every bit of him and more. The things Noah did to me, the way he made me feel, was like nothing I had ever experienced. I refused to consider what my feelings meant, not when I didn't know how long Noah would be in my life or if he even felt the same way. For the moment, though, I was content with just experiencing those feelings, letting them run through me as the rush of passion for him consumed me.

Noah's fingers spread against my back, his hands working down to the hem of my shirt. Cool fingers slid beneath the fabric, making me shiver as they met the scorching tenderness of my skin. I sighed, letting his hair fall from my hands as I continued to let my fingers wander. The next place they stopped was his face, gently caressing his cheek, before trickling down his neck to his chest, then down to his stomach.

We didn't speak as I pulled at his shirt, his arms leaving me once again so I could tug it over his head. Before he could embrace me again, I was working the button on his jeans, unbuttoning it swiftly before sliding off his lap and to my knees in front of him.

"Lacey, you don't have to..."

"Shh."

I hoped my eyes showed the seriousness of my intent, the absolute and urgent desire I had to taste him. They must have, because Noah nodded slightly before helping me pull his jeans and boxers off.

He wasn't completely hard yet, but I was certain I could get him there. Settling between his legs, I lightly ran my fingers along his cock, stroking him gently before leaning forward to kiss it.

I worshiped his cock, exploring every spot between his legs, running my fingers along his shaft and cupping his balls lightly. I watched as he grew, his arousal becoming more prominent, taking him into my mouth so I could feel him thicken against my tongue.

Noah groaned as I bobbed my head, my mouth watering as his cock lengthened. My lips stretched wider as his erection swelled, his cock throbbing in my mouth as I worked my tongue against it. Once he was fully hard, I began to slowly push him further and further down my throat, embracing the feeling of his tip pressing against me, leaning into him as I choked on his cock.

As I pulled back, I glanced up. Noah was watching me, his face serious, dark eyes filled with something that I couldn't identify. When our eyes met, his lips turned up slightly, something mournful hidden by his smile as he looked at me.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured.

I couldn't respond, not with him deep in my mouth, and I wasn't ready to stop sucking him. I looked back at his cock, tasting the first drops of the sticky fluid that dripped from his head as I swallowed him again and again, slowly and deliberately, savoring the feel and the taste.

Whatever tension Noah had been carrying seemed to slip from his body as I sucked him. His hands rested against my head as he breathed deeply. Fingers gently stroked my hair, strands twirling between his fingers as I focused on his cock. Something deep in my subconscious told me to embrace the moment, to try to memorize each ridge and curve of his cock. My tongue studied him, my lips learning each inch of skin.

I knew he was enjoying what I was doing, but I didn't intend to have Noah finish in my mouth. I wanted him inside me, wanted that feeling of fullness and completeness that he brought me. Even with that desire, though, I was reluctant to stop sucking him. It was a few moments before I took his cock from my mouth.

Noah didn't say anything, just looked up at me as I stood. My hands were on the hem of my shirt when he reached out to stop me.

"Let me."

I dropped my hands back to my side as he stood. He kissed me lightly before delicately lifting my shirt. He didn't just undress me; he unwrapped me, unravelled me, memorized me as he removed my clothing. My bra straps were pushed down my shoulders, his fingertips following their path down to my wrists. His lips met the tops of my breasts, dragging along my skin as he replaced the cups of my bra with his mouth.

Noah fell to his knees as he worked my pants down my hips. His hands gripped my legs, working their way down past my knees as he pushed my pants towards my ankles. Once they were gone, his fingers hooked in the sides of my panties, and again his mouth began to trace the path they left. That time, though, he stopped when he reached the drenched lips at my center, his tongue dipping out to taste me.

I watched, entranced, as he pushed his face against my pussy, licking my juices and circling his tongue around my clit. I gasped as he brought his hand between my legs, his fingers trailblazing a path of their own as he pushed them inside of me.

Flutters of pleasure quivered through me as he made love to me with his mouth, his fingers gentle but intense inside of me. I sighed, my head tilting back as his other hand moved to my ass, pulling me closer against him. His ministrations grew stronger, quicker, and as much as I wanted to feel his cock inside me, I couldn't bring myself to stop him.

The flutters turned to pulses, and the pulses to a raging need. My hands found Noah's head out of necessity, my knees threatening to give way as every nerve in my body began to tingle in anticipation. He kissed me intimately, his tongue dancing, twirling, rolling against my clit. I shivered, unable to stop the small noises that escaped from my throat, tiny whimpers of pleasure and need and yearning. I was so focused on staying quiet that I barely noticed as my body began to shake, closer and closer to release.

I peaked with him gripping my ass, face buried in my pussy, biting my lip as I tried not to cry out. A low, choked moan was the compromise as the overpowering rush of my orgasm took me, a heavenly thundering of fire washing through me. My body shuddered, my pussy clenching around Noah's fingers as he moved them inside of me.

When he pulled away and stood up, I nearly fell. He caught me, strong arms holding me closely as I willed my knees to bear my weight. His cock was hard against my skin, and despite having just came, I needed it.

I needed him.

"Lie down," I said.

He obeyed silently, moving back on the bed. I made to join him, but stopped.

"Condoms?"

"My bag," he said. "Front pocket."

I found them quickly, taking one of the small packets from his bag and bringing it to him. I knelt on the bed as he sat up to put it on. Once he was done, he looked at me, patiently yielding to my control. Suddenly nervous, I bit my lip.

"I know what I want. I just... I don't know... how."

"What do you want?"

"To be on top of you. Like when we were on the train, but with you... inside."

He guided me on top of him, showing me where to put my legs. Once there, he reached down, gripping his cock with one hand as I positioned myself over him.

"Now just lower yourself down," he directed.

I did, feeling the tip of him pressing against my entrance. Bit by bit, I sunk onto his cock, focusing intently as his head moved past my entrance. I impaled myself on him slowly, groaning softly as his shaft stretched me, the walls of my pussy tight around him.

"Fuck," Noah murmured as he entered me completely. He had taken his hand from between us and rested it on my thigh, his other hand clenched on the blanket beneath him.

I breathed shallowly, adjusting to the feel of his cock sheathed inside me. For a moment, all was still, and the only thing I could hear was our breathing and the rushing sound of blood in my veins.

"Ready?" Noah said, his voice hoarse.

I nodded. He moved his hands to my hips.

"Now you just... move your hips... like..." He stifled a groan as I rolled my hips experimentally.

"Like that?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm."

His response was choked. I did it again.

"Fuck. Yeah, keep... keep doing that."

I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to, and I most certainly didn't want to. I tried different things, shifting my hips one way or another, lifting myself on my knees before sinking back down on him, each experiment more thrilling and more satisfying than the last. Noah watched my body, his eyes glued to my breasts as I bounced on top of him, finally choosing a rhythm and letting myself fall into that pattern.

As much as I trusted Noah, I had never been entirely certain that he was right about being able to orgasm more than once each time. It seemed almost insane to me until that moment, when I was on top of him. Something about the spot his cock was hitting inside of me, paired with the way my clit seemed to brush against him each time I sank back down, was bringing me there again.

I tried not to think too much. I tried to let my body tell me what to do, to listen to its needs, to let it control what I was doing. One of Noah's hands left my hip and moved up to my breast, his fingers closing around my nipple and tweaking it as I rode him. I used his cock as I pleased, letting my inhibitions go free as a pulsing wave took over my body.

It built up, stronger and stronger. I was panting, trying to maintain the smallest semblance of command over my body so I didn't cry out and wake up everyone in the house. When the second orgasm hit, my hand crashed against Noah's chest, a high-pitched squeal escaping my throat as I failed miserably at keeping quiet. My pussy was bearing down on his cock and I shook, trembling as my eyes squeezed shut and my back arched.

As soon as my orgasm faded, Noah sat up, his cock still inside me. I whimpered at the sudden change, an aftershock of the tidal wave shuddering through me as his cock changed position. His arms wrapped around me and he shifted back and forth slightly as our bodies pressed together, his knees bent as he supported my weight.

"You're amazing," he whispered as he kissed me. "You are so amazing."

He didn't let me respond, just held me as he re-positioned us, his cock sliding out of me as he guided me onto my back. Once I was there, he moved back between my legs, burrowing inside me as I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

His pace was slower than mine, but powerfully consuming. Noah's lips didn't leave mine as he moved inside me, his weight heavy against my body as he made love to me. I was exhausted, completely spent, but addicted to the feel of him inside of me. I didn't come a third time—I didn't even know if that was possible, though something in me was eager to find out—but those little aftershocks kept trembling through me, making me shiver and gasp as he penetrated me again and again.

I had never felt so desirable, so safe and so content, as that moment with Noah. His body consumed me, the safety net of his arms pinning me against the bed. I gasped, inhaling his breath as he exhaled, filling me with life and power and complete oneness. If I had to pick one moment to live over and over for the rest of my life, it would have been that one, with Noah buried inside me as he clung to me like a life preserver.

When he came, he groaned against my mouth, stilling inside of me as he finished. Nothing outside of us mattered; the entire world existed within the confines of our bodies, in the tangle of limbs and sweat and pleasure. Noah clung to me, breathing hard, and I never wanted to let go of him.

I had to eventually, of course. And I had to get dressed, to go back upstairs to clean up. I'm sure he expected me to come back down, to spend the night next to him, but I told him I'd stay upstairs. He didn't argue, just nodded and kissed my forehead, unspoken words lingering in the air, waiting to be freed but never finding that fate.

I lay on the futon for a long time, awake not because of the discomfort, but because I knew.

Somehow, I knew. Maybe it was from the way he had clutched me or the moments where he just watched. Maybe it was the way he traced every curve of my body under his fingers and lips. Maybe it was what we hadn't said, words unheard before I cut him off, words neither of us would say at the end of the night.

Whatever it was, I knew Noah intended to leave in the morning.

**

Noah sat in bed for a long time, staring at the door I closed behind me. He wondered why I had left, wondered if he should have stopped me. One more night together would have been enough, he thought. One more night feeling the breath puff past my lips as I lay next to him. One more night watching my eyelids flutter as I slept, feeling things he didn't think he was capable of feeling, fighting against them only to let himself relax and enjoy just one more night next to me.

He didn't get that, and he thought it was probably a good thing that I had walked away. He felt selfish, taking something that wasn't his to take, keeping me near him when he felt I deserved to be free.

He thought about all the years I'd spent in that small town, under the thumb of a man who had a backwards, tyrannical way of thinking. I wasn't his to keep, Noah had decided. I had just spread my wings, just finally learned about the world that waited outside. He thought keeping me with him would make him no better than my father.

It hurt him more than he could handle. He had tried—valiantly, I might add—to keep me at an arm's length. For my protection, he had told himself, but it was really for his. But things didn't go as he planned. That arm's length shortened as his arm bent, and fell, and soon embraced me. He told himself it was just for one night... and then it was two. After two, he said that was it, and then he found that he couldn't stop.

He started justifying it. It would hurt when I left him, he knew that. It would be heartbreaking, an ache that he wouldn't be able to shake off like he did with so many other things. Wouldn't it be awful to be in such pain for only a few days' worth of time?

It would, he decided. And it would be wonderful. It would be worth it.

But he hadn't expected to face it that night. He had expected the pain to start in the morning when he had to peel his body away from mine, shivering in the cool air as he dressed silently, wondering if he should risk kissing my forehead before stealing out the door.

He set an alarm on his phone, eighteen minutes after sunrise and only five hours away. When he turned the light out, he tried not to think about how lonely the bed was, how he wanted to be watching me breathe instead of staring at the ceiling, and eventually, fitfully, Noah dozed off.

The alarm wasn't necessary; he was awake as the sun rose at twelve minutes after five, his hand instinctively reaching out to find me before he remembered. He lay there a little longer, then rolled over to turn off the alarm before it rang.

He dressed slowly, his mind telling him to hurry while his heart told him to stop. After shrugging on his jean jacket, he messily made the bed, though he tried to straighten the sheets as best he could. He tidied the room, taking every trace of himself that he would have left behind, before finally telling himself to stop procrastinating and go.

Not a single footstep echoed through the house as he stole up the stairs. His backpack didn't even rustle against his shoulder as he slipped his shoes on. Noah wasn't a thief; he wasn't an addict, he didn't do that anymore. But even when he had—even when he was sitting in a courtroom, telling a judge that he was guilty—he had never felt as ashamed as he did sneaking out the door of Sean's house.

Maybe it was because he knew he was still a thief. Maybe it was because he knew he had stolen my heart, but he thought it was better to break it than to keep what should never have been his.

He turned the door handle carefully, silently shaking his head as he realized it was unlocked. He made a mental note to tell Sean to be more careful before remembering he wasn't going to talk to Sean again. The only sound he made from the moment he'd left the guest room to then was a soft, almost inaudible creak as the door opened.

Without pulling it fully open, he slipped through the door, turning as he went to carefully pull it closed behind him. The second sound he made was the soft click as the latch fell into the jamb.

The third was when he turned around, tripped on me, and swore.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ-holy-shit-what-the-fuck," he rambled, catching himself before toppling off the step.

"Good morning to you, too."

"What the fuck, Lacey?" he gasped.

"I could ask the same."

"What are you doing out here?"

"You're not the only one who can figure out a thing or two."

It was the first time I really surprised him. He was truly, honestly shocked that I was sitting on Sean's front step, patiently waiting for the moment he would try to walk out of my life.

He recovered from it quickly, catching his breath before regaining that serious, stoic look I knew so well. Sighing, he sat beside me on the step.

"Why?" I asked.

"Thought it'd be better this way."

"For me or for you?"

"Both."

His voice was quiet, but he couldn't fully hide the pain.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know yet."

"I would hope you'd at least let me say goodbye."

"You'd try to talk me out of it."

I smiled, laughing softly. "Yeah, I would've."

"I'm still going, Lacey."

"I know."

He paused. "I just... I can't... I can't be what you deserve. Fucked up that chance before I even knew you."

"Have you ever forgiven yourself for that?" I waited, but he didn't respond. "You should. You deserve it."

"I can't stay here," he said. "And you... you deserve to be happy."

"Can you tell me one thing? Just... whatever the answer is, tell me honestly."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I took a breath, steadying my resolve.

"If nothing was standing in your way... not money or fear or what you think I deserve or anything... what would you do?"

He shook his head. "I can't. I can't do that to you."

"You promised."