Page 92 of Academically Yours

“He didn’t take the time to worship your body every single place he could?” He made a tsk noise with his tongue. “That’s a damn shame, Noelle, because I can’t get enough of you.”

I could feel my lips pulling up into a thankful smile, as he pulled me into his arms, our naked bodies fully pressed against each other. “Noelle. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. And I mean that—for everything. But I want you to see yourself how I see you. Beautiful. Sexy. Treasured. Cared for.” And the word he didn’t say, but I felt, in every gentle touch and action: loved.

I nodded, placing my hand on his bare chest. “I feel safe with you,” I said, which I knew wasn’t what he had expressed, but it was what I felt, all the same.

I let him guide me into the shower, let him wash my hair, and my body, running his hands all over the places he had kissed last night. And once he was done—and very clearly sporting a massive erection, clearly as affected from this as I was from having him touch me everywhere—I returned the favor, soaping him down and touching every well-defined muscle on his body.

“Mmmm, baby,” he moaned as I ran my hands up his shaft. “I love it when you touch me, but I’m gonna need you to stop that unless you want me to blow my load all over you when we just got clean.”

“Or maybe,” I said, kissing his chest after the soap had finished running off his body. “I could take you in my mouth, and then—”

“Nope!”

And I shrieked when he whisked me off my feet and into his arms in one fluid motion, turned the shower off, and then carried me from the bathroom and tossed me onto the bed—still dripping wet.

“Matthew!” I exclaimed. “We’re getting the sheets all wet, and now we’re going to have to wash them.”

He leaned down to kiss me, and I gave up my pointless protest—I wanted this as much as he did—and kissed him back with as much fervor as I could muster, holding on to his face with my hands and pulling him down on top of me.

The wet strands of his blonde hair were clinging to his face, little droplets of water falling off of him and onto me, and I giggled. “We’re going to have to shower again,” I said, moving my hands up and down his chest before interlocking them behind his neck.

“Worth it,” Matthew said as he nipped at my neck, and then he was positioning himself at my entrance, thrusting in all the way inside of me—

“Oh God,” I moaned.

“Noelle, baby,” he breathed out. “You feel like you were made for me.”

I twisted my fingers in the wet hair at the base of his skull and kissed him again, pressing our mouths together as his thrusts became fast and erratic.

“Maybe I was,” I panted, coming closer to an orgasm with every roll of his hips. I resisted the urge to close my eyes. Truly, sex had never been like this before, and with him—with this intimacy, the love Matthew showed me as he reverently washed my body in the shower. I couldn’t imagine it being like this with anyone else, either.

I rested my head against his heart, listening to it beating. And I let myself go—let myself live fully in this blissful, perfect moment, connected to the most wonderful man I could have ever imagined.

All I knew was I didn’t want this to end—didn’t want this to ever end.

“I’m close,” I whined into his ear, and Matthew leaned down to rest his forehead against mine. His thumb found my clit and he rubbed circles over it as he thrust in and out, slowing down to a painfully slow rhythm.

I think I might have whimpered, but then my mind went blank as I was overwhelmed by sensations: the feeling of his wet skin on mine, the feeling of him so deep inside of me, the way he was applying pressure to my clit, my nipples rubbing against his chest. I cried out as my orgasm hit me, feeling the blissful release as my body settled from the sensations, almost holding Matthew in deeper as my climax fluttered around his length, and then he was following close behind, spilling inside of me. I could have cuddled up next to him just like this as he almost fell on top of me, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight before he pulled out, so warm, sated, and happy—but I knew I didn’t want to miss one moment of this weekend, of this day with him.

After we cleaned ourselves (for the second time) and got dressed, Matthew guided me outside to his truck, where he lifted me inside by the waist and buckled me in before settling in the driver’s side.

I couldn’t ignore the flush on my cheeks—a combination of the way he had just fucked me and how he was always so caring and considerate with me. I knew I could have done those things myself—he did too—but it felt so good to be taken care of by him, so I didn’t complain.

“Where to, Matthew?” I asked him as we intertwined our hands that rested on the center console.

“Well, I was thinking we should start our very productive Spring Break with dinner and a movie.”

“Very productive, huh?”

He nodded. “What do you want to go see? I think they have one of those girly romantic movies you love so much playing right now.”

“Hey!” I protested, “They’re not girly just because they’re romance.”

“I’m just teasing you, baby.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “What do you want to see?”

I ran my thumb over the back of his hand. “You can pick,” I said, not caring what we saw as long as we got to spend time together.

To my delight, he did pick the romance movie that was showing, and we didn’t stop holding hands the whole time we were at the movie theater. I sat with my head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, like I couldn’t get enough of the body contact, couldn’t get enough of him.Maybe I couldn’t.

Afterward, we went to my favorite pizza place, and I reminisced on all the times I had come here growing up—with my mom, for friend’s birthday parties, graduations, and lots of little memories. We spent the night almost sitting in each other’s laps, side by side, and sharing pizza and memories. It was the perfect day, and I couldn’t have imagined anything better than spending time with him.

And we still had a whole week ahead of us.