When I wasn't your's

One Last Taste

Chapter 14

The morning after Mia stormed out, Noah didn’t sleep.

He lay on the couch, her scent still lingering in the blanket, his phone on silent, and the weight of her words echoing in his head.

> “You ruined my life.”

He deserved it.

So when her message came later that day — short, cold, and to the point — he wasn’t surprised.

> “My lawyer will come at 4pm tomorrow. Be ready to sign.”

Noah stared at the text for a long time before replying.

> “I’ll sign. But not until I see you.”

Two seconds passed before he received an

> "ok"

When Mia arrived at the door with her lawyer, she was ready to burn Noah Bennett to the ground.

She wore her sharpest heels and a black blouse that meant business. Her lips were pressed into a tight line. But nothing — nothing — could’ve prepared her for the sight that greeted her.

Noah opened the door shirtless, a towel slung low around his hips, dangerously loose. His chest glistened — fresh out of the shower, damp skin stretched over firm muscle, abs rippling slightly with every breath.

The man knew exactly what he was doing.

“Good afternoon,” Noah said, like this was normal.

Mia’s lawyer blinked, clearly disturbed. “Uhm—hello, Mr. Bennett. I—uh—we’re here to… finalize the—”

Noah raised a brow, leaned on the doorframe, voice dripping with smug heat.

> “Can I have some time alone with my wife… or do you intend to join us?”

The lawyer choked.

Mia’s mouth parted. “Noah—”

But her lawyer was already retreating. “I-I’ll give you two… space. I believe privacy is… essential... in these delicate—” He fumbled his briefcase, nearly tripping as he fled down the hallway like a man escaping fire.

The door slammed shut.

“Noah!” Mia whirled around. “What the hell was that?”

“I told you,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I won’t sign until I see you.”

“I am right here!” she snapped.

“No.” His voice dropped an octave. “I mean really see you.”

His body radiated heat as he approached her slowly, every muscle tense, dangerous. The towel shifted slightly at his hips, revealing more skin — more sin.

Mia tried to back away, but her heels caught on the rug and she stumbled.

He caught her.

And just like that, her body remembered — the scent of him, the feel of his bare chest against her blouse, the way his hand slid around her waist like it belonged there.

“Noah, stop—” her voice cracked.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

> “You came here to end us. But your eyes say you want one last taste.”

Before she could argue, he kissed her.

Hard.

Hot.

Desperate.

His mouth devoured hers, tongue pushing past her parted lips, and she moaned before she could stop herself. He backed her into the wall, hands everywhere — gripping her thighs, pulling her closer, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.

The towel fell.

So did her resistance.

Her blazer was peeled off. Buttons popped. He kissed a trail down her neck, between her breasts, dragging his mouth lower until she gasped his name like a prayer and a curse.

> “Noah…”

He carried her to the couch like a man possessed.

Clothes vanished.

Mouths collided.

Skin met skin in a fury of need and forgotten promises.

His body covered hers, slid into hers, and she arched beneath him with a cry that tore from deep in her throat. He moved slowly at first, dragging the moment out like punishment, like worship — then faster, harder, until the only sounds were her breathy moans and his whispered confessions.

> “You’re mine, Mia. You’ll always be mine.”

She clawed at his back, wrapped her legs tighter, her nails digging into his skin. Her c****x hit fast and full, stealing the air from her lungs. She shook, shuddered, gasped his name over and over as he followed her over the edge — collapsing into her with a final groan that made her heart stutter.

---

Hours Later

Mia lay tangled in the sheets, her hair a wild mess, Noah curled behind her with one strong arm hooked around her waist.

“You’re still here,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

She didn’t answer.

Because her body was sore, her lips swollen, and her soul?

Torn.

She should’ve left. She should’ve run the moment her knees stopped shaking. But instead, she turned to face him.

He looked at her like she was sunrise and firelight — and then he kissed her again.

Soft this time. Sweet. Intoxicating.

Round two wasn’t chaos.

It was slow, sinful rhythm.

He took his time with her — mouth exploring every inch like it was his first time tasting heaven. She cried out again and again, her voice hoarse, her nails raking down his chest as he moved within her like they were never meant to be apart.

Afterward, she lay panting on his chest, heart racing, her world spinning out of control.

And for the first time in weeks, she whispered the truth into his skin:

> “I missed you so much, it made me hate you.”

He kissed her temple. “Then hate me here. In my arms.”

She didn’t reply.

But she didn’t leave either.