Spearcrest Rose: A Rich Girl Poor Boy Romance by Aurora Reed

Spearcrest Rose: A Rich Girl Poor Boy Romance by Aurora Reed

Author:Aurora Reed [Reed, Aurora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-01-13T18:30:00+00:00


Chapter 13

Thursday Indulgence

Thursdays soon become Noah days, and Noah day soon becomes my favourite day of the week. To avoid missing classes every Thursday, I get into the habit of doing all my waxing, skincare and preparation on Wednesday nights. On Thursdays I sneak off campus, hop into a taxi, and spend my evenings with Noah.

Sex with Noah is addictive because it’s not like any of the sex I’ve ever had before.

And that’s not because I’ve never had good sex before. I’ve had terrible sex before—most girls have—but I’ve had decent sex too. Sex with older, experienced men. Sex with partners who tried very hard to make me come.

But I’ve never had sex with someone like Noah before.

Noah has sex like he doesn’t worry about me coming because he trusts that I will. There’s no pressure, and I never feel like he’s hurrying me to the finishing line. Noah is unhurried and tender and seems to be a stranger to shame or embarrassment. All he seems to care about is the pleasure he brings me.

He’ll get on his knees if he has to and beg if I ask him to. When I’m a little rough with him, pulling his hair or grabbing his neck or clawing at his arms or back or hips, he lets me, moaning softly. He wasn’t lying when he said he liked it when I was mean. He loves it when I’m mean.

But he also loves it when I’m a whimpering, trembling mess, too. He loves feasting on my pussy until I’m writhing against him and moaning loud and long. Sometimes he looks up at me, eyes bright, cheeks and chin sodden, with so much pride in his expression I want to give him a pat and a treat.

And other times, it’s like he can’t even control himself. He’ll have me on my stomach with my ass in the air, fucking me with abandon, his moans rough and primal against the back of my neck, muttering strings of dirty words and curses. Times like these, Noah fucks hard—harder than anyone has ever fucked me.

He fucks harder than a rockstar.

He fucks like a god.

And Noah doesn’t just fuck. Noah cleans and cooks. He talks and cuddles. He runs his fingers up and down my back while I fall asleep plastered to him. Noah, as crazy as it sounds, almost seems to enjoy spending time with me.

One snowy evening in early January, after I’ve returned from a week away with friends in Aspen, I’m lying on my stomach with my head resting in my arms. Noah lies next to me, playing with a long strand of my hair. He smoothes it between his fingers and lets it drop on my back before picking it up again.

“You really have the prettiest hair,” he says thoughtfully.

“Like a princess?” I ask with a laugh.

“Yeah, like a princess. Hair for girls who live in castles and don’t have to work or do anything.”

“I work and do things!” I protest, propping my chin up to glare at him.



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