“Okay, so you don’t go to the movies because you’re too busy. You have three brothers. You occasionally go
to museums and you like the Impressionists. And you’re extremely good in bed. What else should I know about
you? What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.” It’s Sunday, maybe early afternoon. I’m in the gigantic space-age jacuzzi tub and Noah is gently,
carefully rinsing my hair. He ordered us breakfast in bed, we made love again and then he ran us a bath, carrying
me in and insisting on pampering me.
“What shade of blue?” I’m reclined on a molded seat in the tub with jets massaging me. My head rests on a
built-in pillow. “It’s my favorite color too.”
“It is?” Noah’s strong fingers massage my head as he rinses more shampoo from my hair.
“Yes. My living room is Mediterranean Skies and my bedroom is European Summer.”
“That’s very specific.” “It’s one of my hobbies, poring over paint samples and wallpaper swatches. I’m a little
obsessed.”
“So you’re going to open a high-end interior design business for very select clients when you start having all
your magical babies but still want to use your creativity and occasionally re-enter the real world outside the haven
of your beautiful home. But only when you feel like it.”
It catches me off guard. I didn’t actually go into that much detail about that one particular wildest dream. And
he just described it in the most perfect way imaginable.
I shrug a little, feeling emotional about this even though I’m not sure why. Because he knows you better than
anyone ever has, already. And because you’re completely, totally falling for him. Actually, you’ve already fallen.
“Maybe.”
Noah smiles. “I like Lucky Irish blue. It’s a blue that changes colors. When I tease you, your eyes turn violet,
but when you’re moaning my name they’re more of a royal blue.”
I splash him a little. “What color are they when I splash you?” “Sapphire blue,” he grins. “Which reminds
me.” “Get in with me.” “I will. I need to find something. I bought you a present.” “When? We’ve been in bed all
weekend.” “I got it on my way to the restaurant.” He goes out into the bedroom and comes back holding a small
rectangular light blue box.
“You bought me a present before you even met me?” “Just in case I liked you.” “So... you’ve decided you
do?” “Mm...” He pretends to think about it. Then he leans over me and kisses me. The kiss is erotic in its
familiarity. We’ve spent the entire weekend kissing, exploring each other’s bodies and kissing some more. “I’m
besotted, addicted and obsessed, so I guess that’s a yes.”
Noah hands me the box. “This is for you, gorgeous.” I sit up. “I don’t want to get it wet.” He opens the box
and pulls out a piece of what looks like costume jewelry. A blue glass tennis bracelet with large stones embedded
in white gold. “It can handle getting wet. My mother used to wear one of these and she never took it off. Not even
at the beach.”
I’m a little shocked when he tells me that. It’s kind of a big deal that he would buy me something he associates
with her. “It’s so beautiful, Noah. It’s my exact favorite color.”
“Lucky guess.” He opens the clasp and holds it out. “Here. Let me put it on you.”
It’s definitely the glintiest piece of costume jewelry I’ve ever seen. He puts it on and the chunky weight of it
almost makes me wonder... but no.
This many real sapphires would cost... a lot. “Thank you, Noah Steel. I love it.”
“My pleasure, Lucky Irish.” I get up from my raised underwater couch. “Sit here. Let me wash you.” Noah
drops his towel. Wow. It’s a sight I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. He really is... well built. He’s perfectly
proportioned. Naturally fit with the body of an athlete. An edgy one, with his ink that surprised me at first but it
suits him. He doesn’t have the physique of a runner or a quarterback. More like an athlete with serious stamina that
might do the tackling or stop someone less solid in their tracks. He’s tall and big. Toned-looking with defined abs
and that manly V that frames his lean hips.
And then there’s that gigantic cock that’s my new favorite thing in the world.
He lays back. I slowly rub the soap over his stomach and chest. “I booked the room for us again tonight.”
“Yeah?” I’ve been too blissed out and distracted to worry about any of the stuff I’d usually worry about. Like
check-out time. Which, now that I think about it, was probably hours ago.
“You don’t have other plans tonight?” he asks. “No.” “You’ll stay with me then?” I don’t know how this
happened so fast. And I’ve been living way too much in the moment—some of the best of my life—to worry about
what happens next. I haven’t let my mind go there. “Okay.”
“Good. There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about too.” I take his enormous, thick bulk in my hands
and start soaping it, watching it harden as I do this. “It’s so amazing how this happens.”
Noah lets his head fall back, groaning and exhaling a laugh at the same time. “I guess it is. And I’m glad it
does.”
His body is so fascinating to me. He’s such an outrageously masculine creature. I slide my fist along his
length, captivated by everything about him. “I just never knew men were so...”
He pants as my slippery grip works him. His slow smile is back-lit by dark lust. “Men were so what?”
“Big.”
Another rumble of laughter es capes him. “Not all of us are this big. I got offered work as a porn star once. A
girl I dated years ago knew someone in the industry.”
“What?” I can’t help giggling. “You mean all this time you could have been making risqué movies instead of
boring old investments? At least you have a back-up option if the stock market crashes.”
His low laughter is my new favorite sound. And that husky growl when he comes. “I think I’d rather lavish my
gifts all over my little Irish blind date than share myself.”
“Lucky me.” I rinse him, seeing then the pearl of moisture se eping from his fully hard cock. We’ve been in
bed together for two solid days, almost constantly connected, but there’s one thing I still haven’t done. “There’s
something I want to try.”
“What thing?” “It’s only fair.” “What’s only fair.” It’s a growl, not a question. “I want to taste you.” I play
coy. “Can I?” “Well... that d epends.” I bite back my smile. “On what?” “On how dirty you’re willing to get.” “I
guess, Mr. Steel...” I touch my tongue to the broad tip. He tastes milky and salty. It’s hard to describe how greedy
the taste of him makes me feel. He’s so beautiful. I want to please him and drive him crazy with lust. “... that I’m
pr epared to get very, very dirty.”
“Fuck,” he groans. “Lucky.” I take the head between my lips, sucking gently, licking him with my roving,
flicking tongue.
“Oh, fuck.” I’ve never had cravings like this before. My need for Noah is carnal and out of control. He’s
changed me. Strangely, I feel more like myself than I ever have.
My fingers explore as I suck on him, swirling the moisture with my tongue. I squeeze him gently with my fists
as I glide my palms along his length, cupping him and teasing him. I can’t take all of him because he’s so freaking
big, but I use my mouth and my hands to give him as much pleasure as possible.
I want to make him feel so good he’ll never recover. I know I can. When it comes to pleasuring Noah Steel, I
feel like I’m a natural.
I love the feminine power of this. He’s completely at my mercy. He’s mine. No one can make him feel as good
as I can. Some innate sixth sense tells me this. Just like he has a power over me, to devastate me with his gigantic
love wand as he relentlessly shows me how good he is at using it.
I knew from the beginning that we clicked, but de ep down I know there’s a lot more to this than that. Noah
and I don’t just click, we match. Everything about this feels like we’re made for each other.
I stopped worrying about it when he gave me my first orgasm, dedicating myself to living fully in the moment.
Now, all I think about is reading his pleasure. Gauging every groan and every heartbeat. I know what he likes and I
use this. I suck on him like I’ve never been thirstier, and the truth is, I haven’t. He makes me crazy.
Noah’s low oath is one of surrender. His cock starts jerking in my hands. The pumping gushes flood my
mouth. Wave after wave of it. I swallow as much as I can but there’s too much. It spills, wetting my face and my
breasts.
The ripples calm and I drink the last surges of his release, taking my time, licking him tenderly. I can feel his
seedy life force inside me. I’m full of it. It’s all over me. I’ve been anointed with his beastly beauty and his adoring
perfection. I feel sticky and blessed. I kiss his wet, still-pulsing length. It’s softer now but not completely. I love
the weighted bulk of it in my hands.
“Irish,” he rasps. “Come here, baby.” I climb onto him and he takes me in his arms, staring at me like I’m a
mythical being he can’t believe. He smooths my hair. He takes my face in his warm hands and kisses my lips.
“Come home with me. Move in with me. I need you with me, Lucky Irish. Stay with me.”