For a moment after Sophie gasped the words, everything stilled. The curtains shifted lazily with the twin-sun breeze, her brush rolled to the floor, and Noah felt the entire weight of her need pressing into him.
He didn't waste time with an answer. His mouth claimed hers—urgent, greedy—kissing her like he'd been starving for days. Her lips parted instantly, a moan spilling into him as her nails dug at his shoulders. She melted against him but pushed back too, desperate, grinding her hips into the hard length straining against his pants.
"God, Sophie," he muttered against her mouth, his breath hot and uneven.
"Please," she whispered, voice raw. "No teasing."
She lay back on the bed, hair fanned out across the white sheets, breasts rising and falling fast. Her nipples were already tight, begging for his mouth, and her thighs parted instinctively as if she couldn't stop herself from offering him more.
Noah groaned. "You're perfect."
