8. Sawyer

SAWYER

A s Noelle comes down from her high, I scatter gentle kisses along her inner thighs, soothing her sensitive skin. My hands, used to handling the most delicate blooms, have never had a more precious task than worshipping her body. For a man who's spent years avoiding touch, I can't seem to stop touching her.

“Sawyer.” She's trembling, her face flushed and eyes glassy with pleasure. I've never seen anything more beautiful. After years of choosing solitude, of keeping everyone at arm's length, the way she’s trusting me with this precious gift makes my chest ache. “That was...”

“Only the beginning,” I promise, nuzzling against her soft skin. Her scent fills my senses—sweet and dizzying. I want to drown in it, in her.

My fingers glide through her slick folds again, teasing her entrance. She gasps, oversensitive but arching into my touch, silently begging for more. I groan at how responsive she is, how completely she gives herself over to the pleasure. Each soft sound, every tremor that runs through her body, reminds me I'm the first to see her like this, to touch her like this.

The trust she's placing in me is humbling. I've spent years in solitude, convinced that loneliness was safer than connection. But here is this bright, beautiful woman, offering me her most precious gift, and all I want is to give her the world in return. To make her feel cherished, adored, and whole. I want to keep her close, to weave our lives together—as crazy as that sounds after such a short time together.

“Please,” she whimpers as I circle her opening. “I need you.”

“I need you too, angel. So much.” The confession comes from somewhere deep inside me, from that place I've kept locked away for so long. Like one of my stubborn orchids finally blooming, something inside me is opening, reaching for her light. “But I want to make sure you're ready.”

Slowly, carefully, I ease one thick finger inside her tight heat. We both moan at the feeling. Her fluttering around my digit, me enveloped in her silky warmth. I've never felt anything so perfect.

“Noelle,” I rasp against her skin, fighting the urge to bury myself inside her right this second. She needs time, gentleness, and I’m determined to give her everything she deserves. I withdraw my finger, then slide it back in, slow and deliberate, watching her expression transform from desire to bliss as I match the rhythm of my movements with the cadence of her breath.

Noelle mewls and writhes beneath me, her hips rocking to meet my careful thrusts. The sight of her lost in pleasure, knowing I'm the one giving it to her, fills me with a possessive sort of pride.

“That's it, angel,” I encourage her softly. “Just feel.”

When her needy whimpers turn to moans, I add a second finger, stretching her delicate walls. My cock throbs almost painfully, straining against my jeans, desperate to be where my fingers are. But I force myself to go slow, to savor every sigh and shudder as I bring her closer to the edge again.

“Sawyer, please,” she pants, nails digging into my shoulders. “I need more.”

“I know, baby. I've got you.” Curling my fingers just so, I find that spongy patch of nerves deep inside her and stroke. Her reaction is instantaneous.

“Oh god!” Noelle's back arches off the bed. “Right there! Don't stop!”

I don't stop. I rub that spot relentlessly, my thumb circling her clit in tandem until she's shaking, babbling my name like it’s the only word she knows. When I feel her wall clamp down on my fingers, I capture her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her cries of ecstasy as a second orgasm crashes over her. Her body pulls taut and then releases, shaking apart in my arms. I work her through it, fingers gentling but not stopping their movements until she collapses back against the mattress, spent and sated.

“Sawyer...” she sighs dreamily, reaching for me with trembling hands. “Oh my god. What are you doing to me?”

I smile. “Well, it is Christmas. I’m in a giving mood.”

She giggles a breathy giggle, and I press tender kisses to her face, her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. “That was a good gift.”

“What about what you’re giving me? I can't believe I’m the only man who gets to see you like this.”

Noelle cups my face, bringing my gaze to hers. Her brown eyes are warm and trusting, glowing with an emotion I'm almost afraid to name. “I want to see you too, Sawyer. All of you. Please?”

With a groan, I take her mouth in another heated kiss. She meets me with equal fervor, hands tugging impatiently at my clothes. Together, we manage to divest me of my sweater and undershirt, only breaking the kiss when absolutely necessary.

As soon as my chest is bared, Noelle's hands are exploring, mapping the dips and planes of my muscles. Her touch ignites me, every brush of her fingers against my skin, sending sparks straight to my aching cock.

When her hands drift lower, tracing the trail of hair below my navel, I groan into her mouth. “Noelle, you're killing me.”

She smiles against my lips, fingers toying with the button of my jeans. “I want to touch you too, Sawyer. Show me how.”

Fuck. The innocent plea nearly undoes me. I capture her wrist, bringing her palm to my lips to press a reverent kiss there. “Next time, angel. Right now, I need to be inside you.”

Her pupils dilate at my words, a fresh wave of arousal perfuming the air. “Yes. Please, Sawyer.”

I make quick work of my remaining clothes, sighing in relief as my erection springs free. Noelle's eyes go wide as she takes me in, a hint of nervousness mingling with the desire on her face.

Settling back over her, I brush the hair from her face tenderly. “We'll go slow. If anything doesn't feel good, you tell me and I'll stop. OK?”

She nods, hands coming up to explore my back and shoulders. “I trust you.”

Those three words pierce my heart as I hover over her. I know what a precious gift she's giving me. Not just her body, but her faith, her vulnerability. I vow silently to cherish both, to make this everything she deserves.

Taking my shaft in hand, I position my tip at her entrance. Our eyes lock and I pause, giving her one last chance to change her mind. But there's no hesitation in her gaze, only desire and infinite tenderness.

“I'm ready,” she whispers, wrapping her legs around my hips to urge me closer. “Make me yours, Sawyer.”

With a groan, I press forward, sinking into her welcoming heat inch by careful inch. We both gasp at the exquisite sensation—Noelle at the unfamiliar stretch, me at her tight, slick warmth. It's heaven and sweet torture all at once, and I don’t think I ever want to be anywhere else but inside her.

“God, Noelle,” I pant once I'm fully seated inside her, holding myself still to let her adjust. Beads of sweat gather on my brow from the effort. “You feel incredible. So fucking perfect.”

She lets out a shaky breath and lifts her hand to brush my damp hair back from my face. “You feel perfect too. I've never...I never knew it'd be like this.”

“You’re OK?”

She nods. “I'm more than OK,” she assures me. “Please, Sawyer. Move.”

Slowly, I withdraw until just the tip remains inside her, then glide forward again. We both cry out at the exquisite friction. I set a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in, savoring every inch of her silken heat.

Noelle meets me thrust for thrust, her hips rising to take me even deeper. Her nails dig into my shoulders, urging me on as soft moans spill from her kiss-swollen lips. I've never seen anything more beautiful than her, lost in pleasure beneath me.

“Harder,” she pleads, ankles locking at the small of my back. “I won't break.”

With a growl, I comply, snapping my hips faster, driving into her with more force. The headboard slams against the wall in time with our movements, and Noelle throws her head back with a throaty moan, exposing the elegant column of her throat. I latch onto the soft skin there, sucking what will surely be a vivid mark. The primitive part of me rejoices at branding her as mine, even temporarily.

“Yes, Sawyer! Just like that!” Her thighs tremble. “Don't stop. I'm so close...”

Noelle's body tenses beneath me, her inner walls squeezing around my cock so tight as I drive into her. I'm close too, my thrusts becoming more erratic as I chase the pleasure for both of us. But I need her to fall first. I want to watch her come undone again, knowing I made her first time feel like fucking heaven.

Bracing on one forearm, I reach between our sweat-slicked bodies to find her clit. The first brush of my fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves has Noelle keening, her back arching off the bed.

“That's it, angel,” I encourage her, rubbing tight circles in time with my thrusts. “Show me how good you are. Come for me one more time. Squeeze my cock so hard.”

“Oh god!” Her nails press into my shoulders. “ Sawwwwyyyyyyeeeeerrrr !!!!”

Her climax crashes over her, her perfect little pussy clamping down on me like a vise. The exquisite pressure sends me hurtling over the edge with her, and with a hoarse shout, I bury myself to the hilt inside her spasming warmth, spilling into her in long, hot pulses.

Wave after wave of ecstasy rolls through me as I empty myself inside her welcoming body. Noelle clings to me, gasping and shuddering through her own prolonged peak. I've never experienced anything so intense, so all-consuming. In this moment, everything else fades away—the storm, the greenhouse, the years of solitude—and all that exists is Noelle and this perfect, blissful connection between us.

I lose myself in her, pouring years of pent-up emotion into each deep, claiming thrust until we're both spent and trembling.

Carefully, I roll us so she's draped across my chest, our bodies still intimately joined. I run soothing hands up and down her back as we catch our breath, savoring the feel of her soft curves molded against me. Noelle nuzzles into the crook of my neck with a contented sigh, and I've never felt so complete.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be like that. That was...” she murmurs dreamily, pressing a kiss above my thundering heart.

“Everything,” I finish for her, tilting her chin up so our eyes meet. “You're everything, Noelle.”

A soft smile takes over her lips. “So are you, Sawyer. I think you might be my Christmas miracle.”

I chuckle, brushing a stray lock of hair back from her face. “Funny, I was thinking the same about you.”