Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5) Page 30
Noc did not make love like this.
Further, Noc did not do what I selected lovers in the past exclusively to do.
This being allow me to lead the festivities.
Noc took over.
He also was not considered, deliberate, unhurried.
He kissed deeply, demanding much in return in a way it was impossible not to give it to him, desire to give it to him, have that become the entire reason for your existence. He did this with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth and his hands.
Those roamed everywhere, as if he’d been starved of human touch the entirety of his life and he was making up for that in a matter of seconds.
I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t slow him down.
And I didn’t want to.
His taste, his touch, everything he was doing was drawing out extraordinary sensations I couldn’t control.
Beauty beyond imagining.
In an instant I needed more.
In the next instant, I craved it.
Without warning, he tore his mouth from mine and pushed up to his knees between my legs in the bed.
I stared up at him, finding myself panting, my body singing, watching the beauty of his face now carved with passion, but noting his hands had lifted to unbutton his shirt.
I took that as a cue to release my belt.
I did so, the heavy metal slid to the sides, and without its fastener, the soft material of the dress parted, exposing the undergarments Valentine had given me.
They were, incidentally, the only part about my attire (at the time) that I liked unreservedly.
Cream lace so delicate, it was a miracle of construction. Shiny, soft satin that was a marvel at the seat and along the gusset (but not at the front, that was lace) of my panties as well as at the bottom of the cups of my brassiere.
They were divine.
One look at Noc’s face told me he felt the same way.
“Goddamned fuck,” Noc growled with such ferocity, I stilled.
And if what we’d done before was not unhurried, deliberate, considered, I was about to learn the meaning of lovemaking entirely void of these concepts.
And enjoy every fiery second.
He tore the shirt from his shoulders, tossed it aside, and in a blur of movement I felt his arm drive under me, pulling up at the middle of my back.
I cried out in surprise at the unexpected arch but my next cry was much different when Noc used his other hand to drag down the lacy material of the cup of the brassiere. Then Noc’s mouth was fastened to my nipple, drawing in.
Harsh.
Strong.
The force of the pull tore from nipple to clitoris, buzzing there with such intensity, I had no thought. I felt the beads he’d given me glide up and rest lightly at my throat but the extreme sensitivity of my skin made them feel like I was held there by a caressing hand.
I moved instinctively, the fingers of one hand into his hair to grasp him there, the other one dragging my nails down his back.
At this touch, Noc released my nipple, his lips speeding up my chest, my neck, over my chin to my mouth, my back still arched at his arm’s command, his lips now to mine, his eyes molten.
One look in them and my body became the same way.
“Every inch of you, fucking gorgeous,” he ground out. “Saw it. Knew it. But now it’s goddamned mine.”
Those words drove right up to my womb.
He didn’t allow me to reply.
He kissed me. His hands roamed all over me. He ended the kiss but only for his mouth to move to my other nipple and he dragged it in, drawing deeper, forcing me to arch myself as the hunger for any touch from him took over, feeding on itself more and more the more Noc gave.
I touched him too, the silk of his skin over the hard of his muscle. I attempted to get my mouth on him. I tasted his neck. His shoulder.
But I couldn’t seem to concentrate. Control my body’s movements. Focus on what I could do that might bring Noc pleasure.
I just touched, nipped, kissed, licked, dragged, clawed—wherever I could reach, however I could find purchase.
Everything I took, everything Noc gave drove me deeper and deeper into the abandon, deeper and deeper into the oblivion where nothing existed.
Nothing but Noc and me.
A puff of breath shot from my lips as he readjusted his body so he could tear my panties down my legs but he immediately resumed his position between them. Having caught one of my ankles in his hand, he put his lips to it and dragged them down the inside of my calf, my thigh, all the way to the heart of me.
I watched, holding my breath, quivering, dripping with wet between my legs, my nipples hard stones tormented by the very air touching them, thinking I’d never witnessed anything as beautiful as Noc putting his mouth to me like that.
He kissed me above the triangle of hair between my legs and then lifted his eyes to mine.
“Need to be inside you, baby.”
Thank the Goddess Adele.
“I think I may need that more,” I pushed out, nowhere near the position of being embarrassed that I admitted that need out loud, but even if I didn’t, my voice betrayed it.
His sultry face grew even more sultry as he pushed up to his knees again, reaching behind him.
It caused me some confusion when he again pulled out his billfold.
I lost this confusion when I watched, fixated, as he unearthed something from it and held the square packet between his teeth.
I did this fixatedly because he was then unbuckling his belt, unfastening his trousers and pushing them down his hips.
All that had gone before was hurried, even desperate.
But it seemed his movements now were taking years.
His cock bounded free and my lips parted.
The length, more than average, though not ridiculously so.
The girth…
My.
Suddenly my mouth started watering.
“Noc,” I whispered urgently.
“Two seconds, Frannie.”
He rolled the sheath he’d unearthed from an unusual wrapper on his thick shaft.
Watching this, I started squirming.
“Noc,” I demanded.
He covered me.
But he did not enter me.
I continued squirming, wrapping a leg around his hip, an arm around his waist, diving my fingers into his hair, all while looking in his eyes.
“You need—” I started.
I did not go on when he framed one side of my face with his hand.
I stopped squirming when his other hand found mine, his fingers laced with my own, and he pressed the back of my hand into the bed, bearing his weight into it.
“Other leg around me, sweetheart,” he whispered.
I did as told, staring into his eyes.
“Guide me,” he commanded quietly.
I didn’t ask what he meant.
I knew.
And I did that too, instantly drawing my arm from around his waist to push my hand between us and wrap it around his beautiful shaft.
I felt and heard his breath leave him in a gust at my touch, saw the flare in his eyes, and I rubbed the tip of him through my wetness, doing this for him and for me.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he murmured, his teeth gritted.
“You do too,” I panted, catching my breath as I stroked the tip of him over my clitoris and then I took him down.
The moment he was there, his hips pressed in.
I drew my hand away, circling his waist with my arm again.
But he didn’t invade. I had nary an inch of him and there was much more than that.
“Darling,” I whispered.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
“I am, my dearest.”
“Don’t stop lookin’ at me.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Slowly, his eyes holding mine captive the entire time, Noc slid inside.
Gods, the beauty Noc gave me. So much.
&nbs
p; And now so much more.
It took great effort not to close my eyes at the glory of him, arch my neck, center everything on the magnificence of the feeling of him filling me, connecting with me.
Noc and I becoming one.
Instead, I watched the beauty he felt as he seated himself inside me and I hoped I gave him the same, and more.
His thumb swept my lips and the fingers of his other hand laced in mine squeezed.
“Gonna take you now, baby.”
I nodded.
“Don’t stop lookin’ at me,” he ordered.
“I won’t,” I vowed.
He moved—out, then in.
I bit my lip and stared into his eyes.
His mouth trailing the inside of my leg had been the most beautiful vision I’d beheld.
Until now.
He moved again, out…in.
“Noc,” I whispered.
“Faster?” he asked.
“Please.”
He gave me what I wished.
And again. And again.
Faster. Faster.
More. And more.
Deeper. Harder. His gaze holding mine. His breath escalating with my own. His body driving, mine jarring. His hand clenching in mine. The fingers of his other moving back, tangling in my hair to curl against my scalp. My legs circling his hips tighter, the heels of my shoes spiking into his thighs.
All of a sudden, his nose touched mine and his tone was low and fierce when he gritted, “Fuck, fuck, you’re so goddamned beautiful.”
“You are too,” I gasped.
Out and in. Out and in. Eyes locked. Fingers clutched. Legs wound. Out and in.
“Every inch of you,” he grunted.
My fingers convulsed around his.
Something else convulsed as well, repeatedly, and my legs got tighter.
His deep groan sounded against my lips and radiated everywhere.
Too good.
I was at my end.
“Darling, I’m—”
“Hold on, baby, look in my eyes.”
My entire body tightened. The sensations overwhelming, I watched a muscle dance up his cheek in reaction to feeling it at our intimate connection, and his eyes fired further.
I couldn’t do as he asked.
“Noc,” I cried urgently.
“With me, sweetheart. Come with me.”
Wishing to give him what he wanted, I drew in deep breaths, arching into him, my hips undulating to meet his thrusts, the nails of my hand at his back pressing in and clawing, all in the attempt to give, to take…and to hold on.
“Darling,” I begged.
“Look in my eyes.”
“Darling,” I pleaded.
“Don’t lose my eyes, Frannie.”
I was going to fly apart.
“I must,” I implored.
“Let go,” he grunted.
And only then did I lose Noc’s gaze because I came apart.
The explosion was life changing. Obliterating everything I was in burst after burst of sheer pleasure, leaving nothing but the me I was with Noc. The me I was connected to Noc. The me I was with his fingers laced in mine, his body still thrusting into mine, driving me into the bed, the mighty noises of his simultaneous orgasm blazing along every inch of me.
I found I’d lifted my head and was whimpering into his neck through my climax, then panting into it as I kept hold on him exactly as I was as he continued pounding into me, his grunts no less potent, only drawing my nails from his flesh to soothe with my hand where they’d grazed the small of his back.
I was settling into my afterglow but Noc was still thrusting and grunting, music to my ears, when a tug on my hair told me I needed to lower my head.
I did so and I barely got it to the pillow before Noc’s mouth was on mine.
Only when he’d begun to drink from me did he slide inside and cease moving.
I continued to hold him tight.
He broke the kiss, shifted and buried his face in my neck.
And I held him tight.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling Noc’s warmth, his weight, smelling the spice of his skin, glorying in the stretch of his cock embedded deep inside me, allowing my breath to even as I felt his breath do the same.
I didn’t know what came over me, but the moment he started nuzzling my neck with his mouth, his hand clenched in mine relaxed only so his thumb could caress the apple of my palm, I blurted, “Does this mean I won’t get pizza?”
Noc stilled completely.
I did the same beneath him.
Now whyever did I ask that?
Why?
He lifted up and looked down at me.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, willing to cast a spell to take us to the beauty of what we were sharing but seconds ago and not the awkwardness and stupidity of what I’d just said.
I didn’t have to do that.
Noc was my Noc.
My savior. My friend.
Now…my lover.
He just gave.
In other words, we’d shared beauty but seconds ago.
And he gave me more.
He did this as he burst out laughing and he did not come close to getting it under control before he was kissing me, laughing into my mouth.
Bar none, it was the most beautiful moment of my life.
Bar…
None.
Even the climax he’d just given me at the same moment he’d shared his own.
So, of course, I kissed him back.
Fervently.
Alas, he eventually had to lift his head so we both could breathe, but I was delighted to see he was still smiling broadly when he did.
“They deliver,” he declared.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“Pizza places. They deliver. So the answer is yes. You’re gonna get your pizza. Though I’m not gonna get you drunk after that because you’re gonna eat, I’m gonna eat, then we’re gonna fuck until we can’t keep our eyes open anymore. Then we’re gonna sleep. We’ll wake up. We’ll fuck again. And then I’ll take you home but only so you can change clothes so I can take you to Café du Monde to get beignets.”
“You’ve used this word often, my dearest, but I’m afraid I don’t understand how you’re using the word ‘fuck’ now.”
He flexed his hips into mine, his semi-hard shaft made its presence known (not that I forgot it was there), and he did this dipping his face so the tip of his nose touched mine.
“Fuck, baby. We’re gonna fuck. And we’re gonna do it a lot.”
“You mean,” I whispered, “make love?”
“We’ll do that too.”
I blinked.
“I don’t—” I started to tell him I didn’t understand, but he interrupted me by lifting up, pulling out as he did so, but also moving me at the same time that in the end he was sitting on the side of the bed and I was straddling his lap.
“Pizza first,” he announced. “While we wait for it, I’ll explain fucking versus making love. Though, I might not explain it,” he gave me a grin I’d never seen before, one I felt tighten my nipples, “I might demonstrate. Then we’ll do both until I wear you out. We got a plan?”
Until he wore me out?
I felt goose pimples raise all over my skin.
“I, uh…well…”
How did one answer that question?
I decided on, “I suppose so.”
The arm he had around my waist dropped, he lifted the skirt of the open dress I still wore and cupped one cheek of my bare behind.
“You got something else you wanna do?” he murmured, his eyes on my mouth.
I was in an entirely different universe. There were likely billions of things we could do.
“No,” I answered immediately.
His gaze lifted to mine.
“Then we got a plan,” he stated.
“Yes, Noc,” I replied. “We have a plan.”
He grinned before he surged up and set me on my feet.
Chapter Fourteen
Ten Times
Franka
After Noc gave me a dressing gown to put on that the inn supplied (an unusual but lovely amenity), sat me down at the side of the bed and took off my shoes (a tenderness I would not soon forget), he divested me of the beads he’d bestowed on me and guided me to the small room attached to our chamber.
I stood in it with him blinking my eyes against the unnatural brightness.
“Right, basics,” Noc declared, and he sounded like he was about to impart something important, so I attempted to focus on him through the glare.
He was moving to the only chair in the space, and it didn’t look comfortable.
“Toilet,” he stated. “Self-explanatory,” he went on.
This was not true.
Until he lifted the lid.
By the gods.
It was a commode.
“Do your thing, use that.” He pointed to something that looked like rolled tissue fastened to the wall. “When you’re done, hit this,” he finished and depressed a lever.
Water noises filled the room and I stared in astonishment as the water in the bowl disappeared while other water whooshed around the sides, undoubtedly making it so anything that was deposited in said bowl vanished without a trace.
Pure brilliance!
“Extraordinary,” I breathed, watching the water swirl.
There was a grin in Noc’s voice as he grabbed me about the back of my neck, yanked me into his side and continued, saying, “Sink,” while taking us to the basin. “Hot, cold,” he stated, twisting knobs that made water flow rather forcefully into the basin without pumping.
“By the gods,” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes away from this glorious spectacle.
“Left’s always hot,” he carried on, turning off the left knob.
Always…hot?
But how? I saw no fire.
I didn’t get the chance to ask, Noc kept speaking.
“But it doesn’t come out that way at first. That said, Frannie, be careful because hot sometimes can get hot. Right’s always cold.”
I lifted what I knew were rounded eyes to him.
He looked into them, burst out laughing and turned me fully into him, wrapping both his arms around me.