A/N: Last chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and leaving feedback!

... ...

About ten minutes after he sends Rachel upstairs, whoeverthefuck the no name, bush league pitcher is the Yanks have working in the 14th inning walks a batter with two out, which sends a run in. It's a shitty way for the Yanks to lose a game, so Puck's feeling particularly smug about it.

And now he's going to go seduce the girl who's been on his mind 90% of the whole week.

Life is good.

Maybe it was cruel of him to watch a game instead of, you know, having sex with her, but he thinks there's a part of him that just needed to know that she'd stick around. He's not needy, okay? He's fucking not. He's just got this thing...a complex...because honestly, girls don't like, like him. They like his cock and the fact that he knows how to get them off with skill. That shit is hard to find in high school guys. So it was kind of like a test or something, just to see if she'd actually hang out with him, too, not just fuck him and leave.

He's acting like such a girl. If his mouth wasn't going dry as he walks up the stairs to get to Rachel, he'd question his abilities right now. But yeah, as soon as she gives him the green light, this little game they've been playing? He's gonna win it. And the prize is that they both get really good and fucked.

She's stacking his video games when he walks into the room, and she doesn't bother looking at him. "Did your team win?" she asks, putting the last of the cases on the shelf before turning to face him.

He kind of expected her to be too pissed to actually tidy his room. She didn't really need to, to be honest.

"Yeah. Crazy game." He's distracted by her legs and her ass and the way she has her arms crossed, which is pushing her boobs together and giving her some awesome cleavage.

"Good. I'm glad," she says. "Even if that was the longest, most excruciating sporting event I've ever witnessed."

He laughs a little bit and takes a step towards her. He notices, then, the lighting in the room. It's dimmer than usual, just the bedside lamp on and nothing else. She was totally up here setting the mood.

"Hey," he says, forcing her to look at him again. "Thanks for staying."

She smiles a little and shrugs one shoulder slowly. "I wanted to."

He doesn't think that should make him as happy as it does.

"I wanted you to," he says needlessly. Her smile grows and he thinks that little look does funny things to him, and not even just below the waist. "I like, you know, hanging out with you."

She leans up and kisses him quickly before puling away. "Me too."

Her voice is all quiet and sexy, and he's pretty sure she has no idea what she's doing to him. Seriously. That's so goddamn hot, that she wants him, that she likes him, that she can turn him on so easily. He figures he'll sit down on his bed, because that's where they're both going to be soon anyway.

She's looking at him, the way the muscles of his arms move beneath his shirt sleeve. The lazy, seductive little grin he's wearing. How green his eyes are.

Admittedly, she's glad they're doing this now, at night, alone in his house, instead of...well, basically any other way they could have chosen to do this.

And they are doing this.

"Well, Noah, I'm all yours for another hour," she says coyly, standing at the foot of the bed. Her eyes meet his and he can't believe he's actually here and she's actually saying this shit. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She's offering herself upon a goddamn platter right now.

"I can think of a few things," he murmurs. He leans back against his headboard and she literally stands there, waiting for further instruction or something. Shit. This is gonna be fun.

"Can you?" she asks. She's toying with the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up just a little bit so he catches a glimpse of her stomach.

And he so knows what he wants.

"Strip for me," he says. He knows it sounds far more gruff than he wants it to, but whatever, because he's pretty sure she's going to do it. She bites her lip a little and looks at him through her eyelashes. "Please, Rachel."

She laughs. Bitch. "Are you begging right now?"

"Fuck no," he scoffs. "Just fuckin'...being polite or whatever."

"You don't have a polite bone in your body," she laughs.

Why is she fucking laughing!

"You don't know anything about my bones," he tells her, his brow raised. "I mean, you could."

She smiles and shakes her head at him, then pulls her hair from its ponytail. He can't help what that does to him. She's totally going to strip. God, this is hot.

"Well?" she asks, walking over to his laptop. She sits down at his desk, which is just all wrong, if you ask him. Way too far away. "Do you have any suitable music, or is it all just that terrible heavy metal and atrocious rap you listen to?"

"Hey now," he says, faking offense. "I've got baby making music."

She glances at him over her shoulder. (Baby making jokes? Not a good idea with this crowd.) "Oh my god!" she cries excitedly. "I can't believe you have this song!"

"What?" he asks. Shit. There's some embarrassing stuff on there, he knows.

"This is so very...perfect," she says. She clicks on the song, and for whatever reason, it gives her the confidence to get up and sway her hips just a little bit. Call it the power of Beyoncé. "I can't believe you have this."

He'd be lying if he said he'd never heard the song before or didn't know it was on there. But fuck it. Beyoncé is totally hot, even though she's like, a total Amazon or whatever. (She's married to Jay-Z, which is totally badass.) And what dude doesn't want to hear a song all about how some chick's going to take care of him? Cater 2 U. Whatever. He rocks that shit from time to time. (On headphones. Only on headphones.)

And yeah, since Rachel's been his slave for a week, he supposes it makes sense that she's like, losing her shit over this being perfect. It kind of is.

"Quit teasing," he says from the bed. She's still not naked. It seems very wrong. "Seriously, Rachel. I want you to strip. Clock's tickin'."

She doesn't have to be nervous. She knows that. He wants to see her, and she wants to show him. She's fooling herself if she says she doesn't want this as badly as he does. Well, maybe the stripping thing is more for him than it is for her. She's never stripped before. Sure, she's a dancer and a performer, but this is very different. She's got to try to be sexy.

But then she thinks that usually when people try to be sexy, they fail. She figures if she just moves her hips a little to the music, touches herself (appropriately!) and shimmies out of her clothes, that's probably her best bet.

Puck is pretty much frozen in place as he watches her. She's totally fucking dancing for him. This is ridiculous. This shit does not happen in real life! He's such a fucking stud. She's a total tease, too, because she'll pull her shirt up a little, showing inches of her amazing stomach, only to have it fall down again so she can run her hands through her hair or trail her fingertips up and down her arm or something. He's fucking dying to see some skin. When she finally pulls her shirt over her head and drops it onto the floor, he's pretty sure he can't get any harder than he already is. God, he hopes she knows what she's asking for, here. He can't help it if his hand moves to the front of his pants, stroking himself over the material before unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper.

"Noah," she says, like she's getting him in trouble or something. She stops moving. That's just wrong. "Don't do that."

"Rachel, please," he scoffs. As if she expects him to just sit there. "You're...and...I'm so fucking hard."

She reaches for the zipper of her skirt at her side and he locks eyes with her. She doesn't know where the confidence comes from (probably his prior statement), but she says something she can't believe she's bold enough to say.

"Well, give me a moment."

He groans and tips his head back. But shit, if he isn't looking at her, he won't see her step out of her skirt. Which she does moments later. She's standing there at the foot of his bed in just a dark purple bra and matching panties, and he's pretty sure that the rest of this week meant absolutely fucking nothing compared to this.

"Get over here," he says. She giggles a little bit as the song switches to another R&B tune. "I'm serious. Get the fuck over here." She reaches behind her first and unhooks her bra, pulling it down over her arms. "Holy shit."

She walks over to the bed, and she honestly has never felt sexier. Noah is the most attractive boy in school (she's not the only girl who thinks so), and he's clearly aroused by her, if the way he's running his hand over the front of his boxers is any indication. She really wishes he'd stop doing that.

Not because she doesn't want him to feel good, but because she wants to be the one making him feel good, and in a more direct way.

So when she gets to him, she tugs at the bottoms of his jeans and he lifts his hips, making her giggle as she pulls them off him. She drops them on the floor and climbs onto the bed, resting one leg on either side of his so she's straddling his thighs. She's just looking at him, and he's had enough of that shit, so he grabs her arms and hauls her towards him, kissing her hard before she can do something stupid like tell him that isn't what she wants just yet. He's pretty sure, given that she's wearing only a pair of super hot panties, she's game for a little making out.

Or a lot. Shit, her tongue is in his mouth.

And her hand is...oh, my god.

"Rachel," he breathes out, breaking the kiss as he arches into her hand. "Fuck."

She kisses him again, twisting her wrist and swallowing his groan. "You feel so good," she says.

He feels good?

Well, he does feel good. But...But, she's the one with her hot little hand stroking him just right and...Shit, is that her thumb running over his...

Oh, god.

"Stop," he says, grabbing her wrist. "Stop."

He flips her onto her back and she's totally breathless as he leans into her and kisses her, letting his hand ghost over her thigh, his thumb brushing against her panties. Shit, she's so wet already. How is that even possible? Well, she did totally dance for him, and then they were making out and she had him in her hand, so he figures it's pretty normal for her to, you know, be ready for him to fuck her.

He grabs the sides of her panties and pulls them down her legs without any resistance from her, and just like that, she's naked in front of him. God, why did it take him so long to realize how fucking hot she is? She's seriously perfect. And she doesn't look quite so tiny laying there on his bed. Her legs are endless and her stomach is perfect and, holy shit, she's totally rolling her nipple between her fingers. He steps out of his boxers. Foreplay might not be happening tonight, honestly. He's overcome with the need to be inside her.

He kisses up from her knee to her hip, loving the way she whines when she realizes he's not gonna go down on her. He'll do that later. Another time. Whatever. (If how she's been acting is any indication of how the sex is going to be, there'll probably be another time.)

"You know I'm gonna fuck you, right?" he asks, swiping his tongue across her nipple, making her arch into him.

"Yes," she breathes out. "I know." She catches his lips again, shifts so he's pressed tight against her hip. "Please."

Fuck. This is going way too fast. As bad as he needs to have sex with her (seriously, needs to) he's got 45 minutes left, now, that he can boss her around, and given that she's fucking writhing on his bed, he's pretty sure she'll do whatever he tells her to do.

And god, how hot is that?

He pulls away from her and she lets out this sexy little sound, opening her eyes wide to watch him as he sits down in his desk chair and rolls it just a little closer to the bed. Fuck, if he didn't know exactly what he wants right now, it'd be impossible to not be laying down with her. She's totally naked, totally willing. She's practically begging him to fuck her.

He will.

Just not yet.

"Noah," she whines. The grin on his lips has her feeling (somehow) even more naked than she already is. "What?"

"I wanna watch you," he says.

There's something in his voice that she swears makes her blush. She doesn't think she's ever felt more wanted. But then she thinks about what he's just said and maybe that's what's making her blush. What he's asking...Gosh, that's something she still has a hard time bringing herself to do when she's alone. She certainly can't do it with someone watching.


"I wanna see you touch yourself, Rach," he tells her. There's so much tension in the room that when she looks at him, his cock twitches. "I wanna see what you do when you're alone."

"Noah, I...I can't."

She's leaning up on her elbows, which gives him an awesome view of her whole body, and he sees the way she's looking him up and down, too. Part of him thinks it's hilarious that they're naked in the same room and he's not touching her.

What the fuck is that about?

Oh. Right.

"You can. And you will," he tells her, raising one brow. "You're still my slave, remember?"

She actually laughs a little, shaking her head. He watches as she bites her lip and looks away from him, like she's thinking about it and isn't sure what she really wants to do. But he knows (he can see) how wet she is, how bad she needs something. She lays back against the pillows again and closes her eyes tight, like if she can't see him he won't be there. (She can't believe she's doing this.) He watches as she spreads her legs just slightly, and her hand slides far too slowly down her stomach. She's still hesitating. Even that's somehow sexy.

She can feel his eyes on her, which honestly isn't a surprise, since she's doing this utterly ridiculous thing in front of him, for him. But if she's learned anything at all this week, it's that she actually likes pleasing him. She really does. And as much as she wants to really please him the way they both want, she thinks there's something undeniably sexy about this, too. She can't say she isn't enjoying it, and when she finally touches herself between her thighs, she and Noah both let out little moans at the same time. She can't help but spread her legs wider and cup her breast in her free hand.

He is going to lose his shit. Seriously. He's stroking himself (c'mon, how could he not?) as he watches her rubbing two fingers against herself, drawing the moisture around before focusing on her clit.

He doesn't know how they got here, honestly. He doesn't give a fuck, either.

She slows down, because she'll bring herself to orgasm in about thirty seconds if she's not careful. This, him watching her, hearing him breathing heavily and groaning every so often, it's too much for her.

"Noah," she breathes out as she slips one finger inside herself.

"Fuck." He's thinking all sorts of shit right now, and all of it is dirty. He figures he's already got her where he wants her (naked and ready and waiting for him on his bed; hell yes), so he can probably get her to talk. "So fucking hot, Rach." She moans and rolls her hips, drawing her finger out to circle her clit again. "Do you do this at home? Alone?"

"Oh, god," she says. Just the sound of his voice makes her body quake. "Some...sometimes."

"Yeah, you do," he mutters. God, he's so hard right now. This might be the hottest thing he's ever witnessed. And he's witnessed some shit. "You make yourself come? Trying to stay quiet?"

"Noah," she moans. He's watching her as she pushes two fingers into herself, flattening her palm on her clit. She has so done this before.

"Open your eyes," he commands. Her head rolls to the side, eyes still closed. "Rachel, open your eyes." When she looks at him, he's surprised he doesn't come in his hand. "Did you do this last night? After we talked? Did you fuck yourself and pretend it was me?"

She's right on the edge. She knows it. She stops moving her hand so quickly, because she knows he'll keep asking until she answers, and she can barely form words when she feels so good.

"Yes," she says desperately. "Yes, Noah. Oh."

He's sitting next to her on the bed in a heartbeat (fuck, she's amazing), and he bats her hand away. She actually fucking whines, and he swears it's the hottest sound he's ever heard. He grabs her hand, pulling it to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her fingers. She angles her hips off the bed a little bit, and he knows it's fucking mean to leave her hanging like that, so he reaches down and brushes his thumb over her once, twice, a third time, until she's saying his name again. He needs to taste her. More of her. And he's pretty sure he can make her scream if he gets his mouth on her.

He leans down between her legs and he's infinitely happy that she's not one of those girls who's shy about shit like this. Although, really, she can't be shy about much with him right now. He licks a slow line up her center, and her hands are in his hair as soon as he closes his mouth over her clit, sucking gently, then flicking his tongue over it a couple times.

"Noah, I'm...Please. More," she breathes out.

She arches her hips again, pushing herself against him, and he wonders if she can feel him grinning against her. He flicks his tongue a few more times, sucks hard, and then she's falling apart, literally shouting his name, and he rides it out with her, licking her slowly, then fast, then slowly again as she comes down until eventually she pushes him away from her.

She's had orgasms before, obviously, and quite a few of them. She has never had one like that. She wants to tell him, but she's certain it would just stroke his ego. He's already looking far too smug, and she's glad her face is already red (she can feel it, how hot her skin is) because she thinks she's blushing over thinking the word 'stroke' right now.

"Damn, baby," he chuckles, leaning over to kiss her. She almost pulls away, not wanting to taste herself on him, but he doesn't let her. "That almost made me come."

She's still breathing heavily, looking at him through heavy lids, and he runs his finger over her gently. She jerks away. "Stop," she whispers. "Don't. I can't...Just wait."

He grins and kisses her shoulder, across her collar bone to her neck. "Got it good, didn't you?"

"I didn't think that would be so...so...erotic." He laughs as he rolls her nipple between his fingers, watching her eyes fall closed, then open again.

"How could you not think that'd be erotic? 'S'fuckin' hot as hell," he tells her.

He kisses her again and he's pretty impressed with how quick she is to slip her tongue into his mouth. God, she's got a good mouth.


"Suck me off."

Her jaw drops. (Is that an invitation?)

"Noah, that's...you're so terrible," she says, but she's practically laughing, so he figures she means it in a 'You're terrible, but I can't wait for you to fuck me stupid' way.

"Less talking."

He knows the look he gives her is a dirty one. And she's shaking her head as she sits up, then kisses him, moves down his body, swirling her tongue around a nipple. Jesus Christ, he had no idea this kind of sexual energy was in this girl. He might have met his match. Honestly, if the actual sex is as good as the foreplay, he might die. Seriously. Die.

But then her tongue is circling his head and he's thinking, Fuck. Whatever. Bring it on. He can think of worse ways to go.

She takes him in her mouth and he groans, fisting his hands in her hair. Fuck, it's soft. He can't say he hasn't thought about slipping his hands in it before. And she looks fucking amazing, positioned between his legs, ass in the air, his dick in her mouth. Goddamn. And then she scrapes her teeth just lightly along him and he pulls her hair a little.

"Fucking dangerous," he mutters, and she literally giggles. She's giving him head and she giggles. Amazing. "Fuck, Rachel."

Then she meets his eyes as she takes him deeper, looking down just as he hits the back of her throat, and he doesn't even know what he says, but he knows he says something. When she swallows around him, his hips jerk and he pulls her off him, and she licks her lips.

She knows why he stopped her. Not that she's had a lot of different boys (two...now three) but they tend to all react the same way when she does that. She thinks it's something not many boys get to experience. She's prouder than she should be about that particular skill.

"What?" she asks innocently. He just raises his brow. Seriously?

"I'd fucking come in your mouth right now, but..."

"You could," she says, hand trailing down his chest. "If you want to."

"Goddammit," he mumbles, batting her hand away when she reaches for his cock. Seriously. The girl is crazy. He'll lose his shit and be useless for a while if she touches him any more right now. "Some other time."

He's waiting for her to tell him this is just a one time only thing. He wouldn't really be surprised. Well, fuck, that's not true. All of this is surprising. In the best fucking way possible.

"Okay," she says right before she kisses him. Oh, my god. "What now?"

Oh, she's good.

"You're a quick study," he tells her, laughing as he reaches down between her legs. Still soaking wet. "Fuck."

"Noah." She arches against his hand.

"Now I'm gonna fuck you. So hard," he says, pushing her onto her back. She's kissing him as he reaches for a condom from his bedside table (because as much as he'd like to do this bareback, he's not an idiot, and now's not the time to discuss BC). She locks her legs around his waist and presses her hips against his. "Rachel. Christ. You're fuckin' intense."

"Is that a good thing?" she asks, watching as he tears open the wrapper with his teeth. She should not need him inside her as badly as she does right now. She thinks she might scream if he takes any longer than thirty seconds.

"Hell yeah," he laughs. She's kissing his neck, running her hand over his back as he slips the condom on blindly. He literally has to push her away just to double check it. He grabs one of her thighs, pushing her open wider for him, and she takes him in her hand. That's fuckin' teamwork. He pushes into her hard and she lets out this guttural sound. "Fuck."

She doesn't say anything, just kisses him hard until he can't breathe anymore. He hasn't even moved yet, and he's pretty sure he could come in about ten seconds. She doesn't really seem to mind. He wonders if she's like, hurt or something, or if he's too big (fuck yeah) for her to just take everything he's got. And honestly, it's not so bad to just lay here on top of her, inside her, and let her kiss him. She's tight as hell, like the best kind of glove or something.

But then she rolls her hips, and his head falls to her shoulder because she might be ready, but he, embarrassingly, isn't. He puts his hand on her hip, hoping to not have to tell her that he's two seconds away from losing it, but she clenches her muscles around his shaft instead.

"Fuck. Stop," he growls. He closes his eyes tight and kisses her, distracting her from their position while he wills himself to calm the fuck down, Puckerman. Shit. This isn't the first time you've fucked a girl. Get it together.

She whines when he pulls away, and he smirks. Fuck. Finally, he's got things under control enough to pull out slowly, then push back in sharply, making her let out that fucking hot sound again. He could just close his eyes and listen to her and probably get off.

Of course, he's not going to.

But he could.

"Damn, baby," he mutters as she trails her fingernails over the back of his neck. How does she know he loves that shit? "You wanted this so bad, didn't you? You've wanted me to fuck you." She whimpers a bit, so he pulls out almost completely (fucking kills him to do it) and she pushes the small of his back, angling her hips. "How bad did you want it?"

"Noah, stop," she says. He smirks at her, running his hand through her hair. She's already a little sweaty.

He inches back into her, then out again. Fuck, she's hot. "Tell me what I want to hear. Say it."

She can't handle this. She's so frustrated. She doesn't know how he's doing this. She's already had an orgasm, and he hasn't. His restraint would be admirable if it wasn't infuriating. And since she's already relinquished all her inhibitions this evening, she figures she can do something to encourage him to stop teasing her so cruelly. She pulls one hand off his back and slips it down between them, her knuckles brushing his pelvis as she touches herself.

He grabs her wrist quickly and pulls her arm up over her head, holding it against the pillow. "Don't fuckin' think so."

"I'm dying."

"You're..." She lifts her hips, taking him further inside. "Fuck," he says, laughing softly. She's perfect. "You're fucking dramatic."

"You're mean!"

He kisses the tip of her nose. "You just want me." He thrusts his hips, filling her completely. "Tell me how bad you want me."

"So bad," she says as he begins moving, far too slowly. She wonders if he does this with every girl before realizing that's a really strange thought to have while he's inside her. "So bad, Noah, I want...I wanted this last weekend."

Jackpot. That's what he wanted to hear. He's been thinking about fucking her since Saturday night. He's glad she feels the same.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he says, weaving their fingers together over her head.

"Faster," she pants.

"You want me to fuck you?" He's hard as fuck, and she's so wet, so tight around him, and seriously, this shit is golden. He doesn't think he's ever had sex this hot.

"Yes," she breathes out. "Yes, Noah."

He bites down on her earlobe and she arches her back, lets out a moan. "Say it."

He's so incredibly cruel. She'll do anything at this point to get him to just move faster, harder, anything to rid her of this ache.

"God!" she cries in frustration. "Fuck me, Noah. Please."

He's just gotten Rachel Berry to say fuck. He thinks he should reward her for that shit.

He lets go of her hand, brings his down her body and hooks his arm under her thigh, spreading her wide (shit, she's flexible) and pushing him deeper. She feels so fucking good. And the way she's digging her fingers into his shoulder blade, squeezing his ass with her other hand, he's pretty sure she's digging this too. How could she not? This is seriously the hottest hookup he's ever had. He's pretty much always in control. Always. But this is a whole other level. Him getting to call every single shot and push her past her limits without freaking her the fuck out. And god, does he love that he can make her do that.

She doesn't know how one person can be so good at sex. Really, she's never had bad sex. It's always been enjoyable for her. She's liked it. But this? This is something completely different. This is...it's transcendent. It's like she can feel every millimeter of him, every breath, every single movement he makes. She doesn't even know if she's thinking about anything. She's just feeling everything.

And maybe it's silly, but she loves his rhythm. It's mesmerizing.

Then she notices the sheen of sweat on his skin, how his lips are just slightly parted, and she thinks maybe as good as he is, he's only better with her. She might be making it up. She doesn't care, mostly because he's hot and thick inside her, pressing against her just right, and all she can do is breathe out his name and a series of sounds she'd chastise herself for were the situation any different.

"So good," he murmurs, lips against her cheek, slipping down the line of her jaw, across her pulse. "Fuck. Amazing."

"I know," she whispers, chuckling softly.

He pulls away, which gives him a fucking stellar view of her chest, shoulders, neck, all sweaty, and it inches him that much closer to the end. Fuck, he wants to hold out as long as possible.

"Are you laughing?" he asks, slowing his movements. She mewls and her eyes flutter closed.

"Don't stop," she pleads breathlessly. "Please, don't stop." He's sure he's way further along than she is, which isn't really weird. "I like it fast."




And she wants fast? He'll give her fast. He just really hopes he can get her off before he comes, because fuck. He's totally holding back right now. She lets out a high note she'd probably be proud of if she could think straight when he starts moving faster, harder. Her nails are raking down his back, sure to leave marks, but he doesn't give a shit. That's fucking hot, a reminder that he had her like this. God, he loves her like this.

(He doesn't even correct himself in his head. Call it a haze of sex and impending orgasm.)

Enough of this shit. He's got stamina in spades, but he needs to see her come again, and fuck, he wants her to take him with her.

He slips his hand down her body, running his thumb over her clit, and she arches her back. "You gonna come for me?" he asks, teasing her lips. She leans up, trying to kiss him, but he pulls away, looks down. Fuck, this is hot. "Answer."

He's pretty sure it's really fucking close to midnight, which means he'll no longer be able to boss her around. He's taking advantage of that shit, even if none of it really matters in the grand scheme of things.

"Yes." She moans and her hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, nails scraping his skin. "Yes." She doesn't think she's ever talked so much during sex. And that's saying something, because, well, she talks pretty much all the time. Maybe that's what compels her to look into his eyes and say, "I want you to come, Noah. I want to feel you."

"Fuck," he growls. This shit needs to happen right fucking now. He kisses her hard and she meets him thrust for thrust, moaning intermittently when he thumbs her clit just the right way. He makes a mental note and does it again and again, and she says his name brokenly. "Fuck, Rachel."

He's kissing her neck and she literally licks his ear (in the hottest fucking way ever). He jerks his hips sharply and she swears he's finding places inside her that no one's ever even come close to. He sucks at her pulse point a little bit, and she's totally caught off guard by how fast, how hard, she comes. She doesn't think she's ever been so inside her own body. She knows she's saying his name, and then his hand is gripping her hip, he's swelling inside her, and she's pretty sure she yells a little too loudly as he grounds out her name, his entire body going rigid.

She's still shaking when he collapses on top of her, which is almost painful, since he's just had literally the best orgasm of his life and he's fucking spent. Feeling her shuddering around him is still pretty awesome though.

"Ohmygod," she breathes out. Her breath is ragged, she's sweaty, she's sure her hair is a disaster, and he's kind of heavy on top of her. And she's fairly certain that if he moves again, she might fall apart. Really, if he touches her right now, she'll probably come again. After a minute of just laying there, he pulls back a bit, carefully starting to pull out. "Wait. Wait."

It's too late, though, and she feels another orgasm (how, she's not even sure) rushing through her. She's clutching his arm, eyes closed tight until she's herself again.

"Did you just...?" he asks, still perched over her, smirking lazily. Fuck, he's tired. She nods and he kisses her as she rests her hand over her heart. "Damn, that's amazing."

He ties the condom off and tosses it into his trash can (conveniently placed near the bed) and flops onto his back next to her.

"That was...it was..."

He looks over at her, makeup a little smudged, hair sticking to her forehead, little red mark on her neck. "Fucking electric, baby," he tells her. She sighs, gives him a satisfied smile, and then closes her eyes. "I'm tired."

"Typical," she laughs. He scoffs and looks over at her, eyes still closed. "Men always fall asleep right after, don't they?"

He chuckles and turns on his side, running his hand over her hip. Her eyes fly open. "Only 'till we're ready to go again." She rolls her eyes, kisses him quickly, and stands from the bed, gathering her hair in her hands and letting it fall down her back. God, her body is amazing. The curve of her hips, the dimples at the small of her back, and her ass? Forget it. All those are very good reasons why she should not be out of his bed yet. "Where're you going?"

She reaches for her panties, pulls them on and looks for her bra. "Home."

"Why?" he asks, brow furrowed. She can't leave. He doesn't want her to.

She looks at him and he looks just this side of pathetic. It's kind of adorable (if someone who did to her what he just did can ever be considered adorable). "I thought..."

"Wrong." He catches her wrist and lays back down, pulling her onto the bed. "Stay," he murmurs against her cheek, pulling her against him. She just nods. (Her heart is absolutely racing.) And he hooks his beneath the waistband of her panties at her hip. "These gotta go."

"Noah," she giggles.

"C'mon. Sleeping naked is the best after sex," he says. He makes it sound rather convincing.

She turns her head to look at the clock. "It's 12:06. I don't have to listen to you anymore."

"No," he says smugly. "But you're gonna." She can't deny it. His eyes are locked with hers as he pulls the garment down her legs. She kicks them off and onto the floor as he grabs a blanket to cover them. "Fuck, you feel so good," he murmurs, pulling her right up against him, his thigh between hers.

He likes cuddling. Naked cuddling is even better.

She doesn't say anything, but she's thinking that he's made for her somehow. She smiles to herself when she notices his breathing even out, runs her fingers through the short hair above his ear. When she falls asleep, their hands are joined on her hip.


A couple weeks later, they're in her bedroom, totally undressed and laying in her bed after a little 'We're Officially A Couple' sex. (Seriously, if he'd known the sex would be that good, he wouldn't have waited two weeks to have that conversation. She's the one who initiated it, but whatever.) Rachel has told him she really likes it when he plays with her hair, and he didn't even realize he did it so much until she told him. So he's running his fingertips over her scalp lightly as she lays there next to him. Her hand is over his on his chest and she's idly running her fingers over his.

"You should let me give you a manicure," she says, smiling when he scoffs immediately.

"We've been over this."

"Please?" she asks. She pulls away a little bit and pouts. "You might like it."

"Rachel, no," he insists. He tries to make her lay down again, but she gets up off the bed and pulls his tee shirt over her head. It's a good look for her. Really good look. He'd worry she's pissed, but she's still smiling. "What are you doing?"

She grabs a deck of cards from her desk drawer and walks over to the bed again. "I'll play you for it," she says, and he swears she's the sexiest woman he knows.

He lets her shuffle, then deal.

Later, when he's got one hand soaking in a bowl of warm water and she's trimming his cuticles or whatever the hell she's doing, he at least makes her put on a baseball game so he feels like less of a loser.

Rachel thinks he's faking. He definitely can't dislike this as much as he's letting on. Manicures feel wonderful, especially the massage part (she's had enough manicures that she knows the best techniques). And she's caught him a couple times, glancing down at his hand as she works on it. She knows he'll never admit to liking this even a little.

And really, she's sure he knows better than to complain about this one little thing after everything he put her through during that week when she was 'his'.

She's still his, now, just in a different way. She smiles when she thinks of it, leans forward and kisses him unexpectedly, and he just smirks and raises his brow at her, saying something about her not being able to resist him.

If he only knew.

He's pretty sure letting her do this is going to pay off for him. He knows she's got a thing for his hands as it is. They are pretty awesome (and he can do even better things with them) so he can't really blame her for that.

(And he most definitely didn't let her win that poker game. Absolutely not.)