Noah's POV
My thighs are still trembling.
The world rushes back in piece by piece—the hum of rooftop lights, the clink of cutlery, the soft chatter of strangers in the far-off garden seating area. I sit there, heart hammering, breathing like I've just finished a sprint... because in a way, I have. A sprint to orgasm with no warning and no shame.
The fabric of my underwear sticks to my skin in all the worst ways, damp with cum, sweat and slick. My fingers are still trembling as I reach for my drink and lift it to my lips. The glass is cool against my mouth, but I barely register the taste. I'm trying to get my pulse under control, but my body is still catching up with the shock of it all.
What the hell just happened?
Kieran leans forward, elbows on the table. "You always make a face when something sweet hits your tongue."
I can barely register the words. "Do I?"
"Yeah." His gaze drops to my lips. "You purse them like you're pretending not to enjoy it."
