Chapter 4

I didn’t have to wait long.

The next night I came home later than usual, nerves already tight under my skin. The hallway was quiet. His door was shut. I went inside, dropped my bag, and stood in the middle of my living room for a full minute just listening.

Nothing.

I showered quickly, pulled on a soft black tank top and a pair of sleep shorts, and tried to convince myself I was going to read until I fell asleep.

I lasted twenty minutes.

At 11:47 the soft knock came.

Three quiet taps.

I was already at the door before the third one finished.

Noah stood there in dark sweatpants again, no shirt this time. His eyes moved over me slowly—tank top, bare legs, the fact that I clearly hadn’t bothered with a bra. Something hungry settled in his expression.

“You coming in?” he asked.

I didn’t answer with words. I stepped into the hallway, closed my door behind me, and followed him the few steps to 3A.

His apartment mirrored mine, but it felt different. Darker. Cleaner. The air smelled like him—soap, skin, something warmer underneath. He locked the door without looking away from me.

“Last night,” he said, voice low, “you came on your fingers while I watched. Tonight you’re going to come on mine.”

My stomach clenched hard.

Noah reached out, hooked two fingers in the waistband of my shorts, and tugged me forward until my chest brushed his. He didn’t kiss me right away. He just looked at me, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes.”

That was all he needed.

His mouth found mine in a slow, deep kiss that tasted like control. One hand slid under my tank top and closed over my bare breast, thumb brushing the nipple until it tightened. The other hand pushed my shorts and underwear down in one motion. I stepped out of them without breaking the kiss.

Noah walked me backward until my shoulders hit the wall—the same wall that had been between us for days. He pinned me there with his body, still kissing me, while his hand slid between my legs.

I was already soaked.

He made a low sound of approval against my mouth when his fingers found how wet I was. Two thick fingers pushed inside me without warning. I gasped, head tipping back against the wall. He fucked me with them slowly at first, curling, searching, until he found the spot that made my knees buckle.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s the sound I wanted to hear from this side.”

He kept working me with his fingers while his mouth moved down my neck, teeth scraping lightly. My tank top was shoved up under my arms so he could get his mouth on my breasts. He sucked one nipple hard enough to make me cry out, then the other, all while his fingers kept that steady, ruthless rhythm inside me.

I came faster than I wanted to—sharp, sudden, thighs shaking around his hand. He didn’t stop. He worked me through it until I was whimpering, oversensitive, clutching at his shoulders.

Only then did he pull his fingers free.

He brought them to my mouth.

“Clean them.”

I did. I sucked my own taste off his fingers while he watched, eyes dark, jaw tight. When he was satisfied he pulled his hand away and shoved his sweatpants down just far enough to free himself.

I looked down.

He was thick, hard, already leaking at the tip. Bigger than I’d imagined when I’d only had the sounds to go on.

Noah lifted one of my legs and hooked it around his hip. The head of his cock nudged against me, sliding through the wetness. He held still there for a second, eyes locked on mine.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first night I heard you listening,” he said. Voice rough now. “Every time I fucked her, I wondered how you’d sound taking it instead.”

Then he pushed in.

The stretch was intense. I moaned into his shoulder as he filled me in one slow, steady thrust until he was buried to the hilt. He stayed there for a moment, breathing hard, giving me time to adjust.

“Fuck,” he muttered against my temple. “You’re tighter than I thought.”

He started moving.

Deep, controlled strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside me. The wall at my back was solid. His body was hotter. Every thrust forced a soft, broken sound out of me that I couldn’t hold back. He seemed to like that—he angled his hips and fucked me harder, chasing those sounds.

“That’s it,” he said. “Let me hear you. No more walls between us.”

I clung to him, one leg still hooked around his waist, the other barely keeping me upright. The wet sound of him moving inside me filled the quiet apartment. Every time he bottomed out I felt it in my stomach. My second orgasm built fast, coiling tight.

“Noah— I’m—”

“I know. Come on my cock.”

I did. Hard. My cunt clenched around him in waves while I moaned into his neck. He growled low in his chest and kept thrusting through it, chasing his own release. A few more deep strokes and he buried himself to the hilt with a rough, broken sound, pulsing inside me.

We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, bodies locked together against the wall.

Eventually he eased out of me. I felt the warm slide of him leaving, the mess he’d left behind. My legs were unsteady. He steadied me with a hand on my hip, then reached down and pulled my shorts back up with slow, almost careful hands.

He didn’t speak right away. He just looked at me, hair slightly damp at the temples, chest rising and falling.

“You’re not going back to your place tonight,” he said quietly.

It wasn’t a question.

I nodded.

Noah took my hand and led me toward the bedroom. The bed was unmade, sheets dark. He pulled the tank top the rest of the way off me, then stripped out of his own clothes completely. When we lay down he pulled me against his chest, one heavy arm draped over my waist.

I could still feel him between my legs—the ache, the wetness, the memory of how full I’d been.

His mouth brushed the top of my head.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’m not done with you yet.”

I closed my eyes with a small, helpless smile, already knowing I wouldn’t be getting much rest.

And for the first time since I moved in, the wall between our apartments stayed quiet.