27. Quiet Time

Juliet

It's hard to stay silent when Monroe's strong hand travels down my stomach, then inside my panties.

But I impress myself with my silence skills even as a shiver runs through my body. A shiver that makes me want to moan.

"How long have you been like this?" he whispers as he coasts a finger through my wetness.

"Well, I was asleep," I say quietly.

He dips his face to my neck, dusting kisses there while he explores my slickness. "Doesn't mean you aren't soaked."

"Are you asking if I was dreaming of you?"

"Or playing with yourself when you got into bed." It's less a question and more a statement. Or maybe a hope.

"You want that," I say.

"Want to see that. Want to watch that, Juliet," he says, his voice low, his throat going all rumbly, his eyes a little hazy as he, clearly, pictures me naked in bed, getting off to images of him.

"Maybe you need to be quiet," I challenge.

He tests me, though, two thick fingers traveling between my thighs, then returning to my aching clit with quick, strong strokes. His touch makes it hard for me to keep teasing him. Or to think at all.

My brain starts to go offline, my thoughts turning to colors, bright and hot. The way he touches me feels like more than foreplay. He touches me like he treasures me. I've never been touched like this, with such filthy reverence.

I lift my hips up, seeking more, then finally finding the words to answer his first question—how long have I been this aroused. "I didn't touch myself in bed. This is all from just now," I say.

A groan seems to come from the depths of his soul as he lifts his face. His blue eyes are flames. "Yeah? From kissing?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

Like he can't help himself, he pushes his body against me, so I can feel the hard length of his cock nudging my hip. "No. But I fucking love it."

More strokes. More mesmerizing brushes of his talented fingers. More sensations overloading my mind.

"And maybe from earlier," I murmur, breath coming faster. "When I sucked your dick."

The fire in his eyes blazes. "You're such a good student, Juliet."

"Was I?" I know he liked it. But I want to hear that from him.

"Yes," he groans. "A perfect—" But he stops, catching himself, then smiling wickedly. "But you need more fieldwork."

I laugh softly as my hips tilt up. "That's your assessment?"

He nods, a glint in his eyes, a quirk in his lips. "Lots and lots of courses."

I hear what's underneath that too, and I love it. I love it too much.

Monroe spins away from me, grabbing a condom from the nightstand, then shoving off his boxer briefs.

In seconds, he's rolled it on, spread my legs and now he's notching the thick head against my entrance. My breath hitches, and a long murmur escapes my lips. "God," I mutter.

"Quiet," he whispers harshly.

I comply as he pushes in. My body welcomes him home. In seconds, he's filling me and I'm shaking with pleasure. It's twisting so quickly through my veins, it's like a flood of bliss inside me. I can't help it—I gasp, while I shudder.

His palm comes down on my mouth. His eyes are heated. He braces himself on one strong arm, then fucks me like that.

Strong, determined strokes. A firm grip on my mouth. Eyes locked on me.

Curling my hands around his shoulders, I slide a knee up higher against his hip. He sinks deeper, making sure I feel every inch of him as he eases out, then drives back in.

I feel it all so much. I'm helpless to the sensations whipping through my body, the tight coils of heat. The sharp, hot bursts of lust. Most of all, his hand covering my mouth with fierce determination. His palm drowns out all my sounds. The needy moans. The oh god, oh fuck, oh yes.

And others too. Like I don't want to stop with you.

The look in his eyes—something like ferocity chased by adoration—tells me something too. Something I can be sure of without words.

He doesn't want to stop either.

That tips me over, and I'm falling, falling deeper into him as my orgasm breaks me apart. Quietly with muffled cries, but loudly with this awareness inside me.

I grip him tighter, hold him closer as his body tenses, and he lets go of my mouth, grunting out the most desperate noises.

Before they bring the house down, I slap a hand over his mouth. Covering up his cries of pleasure till his breathing slows and his body stops trembling.

When I let go, he just whispers a heady thank you.