Page 39 of Judge's Justice

"I don't want you to feel like you owe me—"

"I don't." She looks up, meeting my eyes firmly. "I don't feel like I owe you. I feel like I want you. There's a difference."

Something in her expression shifts. Becomes heated. Her eyes drop from my face down to—

Fuck.

I follow her gaze. To the very obvious bulge in my jeans. I'm hard. Rock fucking hard, straining against the denim.

"I'm glad to see your body's still working," Nora says. Her hand moves from my chest, trailing down. Lower. "And since we have an hour..."

She slides off the couch. Onto her knees between my legs.

My brain short-circuits.

"Nora—"

"I want to show you how thankful I am," she says, her hands moving to my belt. "For everything. For protecting us. For being you." She looks up at me, and the heat in her eyes could burn me alive. "For making me feel seen."

"You don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to." Her fingers work my belt buckle, confident despite the slight tremor. "I want to. I've wanted to since I watched you stand in front of my house waiting to protect us."

My belt comes undone. She pops the button on my jeans. Lowers the zipper. And fuck, I should stop this. Should tell her we're moving too fast—

Her hand wraps around my cock through my boxers and every thought evaporates.

"Christ," I hiss. My head falls back against the couch.

"Still want me to stop?" Nora asks. There's a smile in her voice.

"No. Fuck no."

She pulls my cock free, and, damn it, I'm already leaking, the head flushed and desperate. Her hand wraps around me properly now, stroking once, twice, and I have to bite back a groan.

"You're beautiful," she whispers. Then she leans forward and takes me into her mouth.

Chapter 9 - Nora

I have no idea what I'm doing.

My hands are shaking as I work his belt, my heart racing so hard I can feel it in my throat. I've never been this bold. Never initiated like this. Never dropped to my knees for a man and told him I wanted to make him feel good.

With my ex, I tried in the beginning. Tried to be spontaneous, to start things, to show him I wanted him. But he shut that down fast. Said it was too slutty when women initiated. Said real men were supposed to be in control. Said I was being desperate.

So, I stopped trying.

Stopped initiating.

Stopped wanting.

Until now.

Until Judge, who's looking at me like I'm the most precious thing he's ever seen. Who didn't complain when I started this. Who didn't call me slutty or desperate or any of the things my ex made me feel.

Who's just watching me with heat in his eyes and something that looks almost like reverence.

I pull his cock free from his boxers and he's thick. Fucking thick. Longer than my ex by a good two inches, and so much thicker my hand barely wraps around him completely. The head is flushed dark, already leaking, and when I stroke him once, he makes this low sound in his throat that goes straight between my legs.