Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 50

Still staring deep into his eyes, I did nothing but nod.

I was done too and I was very, very glad I was.

"Yeah," he muttered like I spoke my words aloud, his gaze falling to my mouth.

"Noc." I said his name with a different purpose this time, swaying toward him.

"Shoulda known that mouth would be sweet," he murmured.

I had the feeling Noc needed to take hold of me somewhere other than my jaw, for if he kept speaking words like that while gazing at my mouth, my legs were going to give way.

He dipped his head so I could feel his breath caress my lips.

"But in all the time I spent wondering how sweet it would be, never in my wildest dreams would I imagine it's as sweet as it is."

Yes.

He needed to hold me elsewhere or I'd crumple at his feet.

"Noc," I whispered yet again.

He didn't kiss me as I expected him to do.

Wanted him to do.

No.

His hands went from my jaw to my bottom, his fingers clenched in, and I gasped when I was lifted up.

With no choice, my legs curled around his hips, and in no time he'd entered the bed on his knees and placed me on it.

He then placed him on me.

It was then he kissed me.

And it was then something happened that had never happened to me.

I had exceptional skills at making love. I'd made a practice of it to the point I'd made an art of it. My approach to it was considered, deliberate, unhurried. A climax was not an occasion to rush to but a sensation to shape and manipulate, and when reached, to revel in...languidly.

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 pa.s.sion, but noting his hands had lifted to unb.u.t.ton 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 bra.s.siere.

They were divine.

One look at Noc's face told me he felt the same way.

"G.o.dd.a.m.ned f.u.c.k," 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 bra.s.siere. Then Noc's mouth was fastened to my nipple, drawing in.

Harsh.

Strong.

The force of the pull tore from nipple to c.l.i.toris, 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, f.u.c.king gorgeous," he ground out. "Saw it. Knew it. But now it's G.o.dd.a.m.ned 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 G.o.ddess Adele.

"I think I may need that more," I pushed out, nowhere near the position of being embarra.s.sed 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 c.o.c.k 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.

"f.u.c.k, 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 c.l.i.toris 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.