Page 42 of The Caretaker
“Jesus, Noon,” I breathed. I frantically tussled with the button and zipper of his jeans, my opening pulsing for him. He batted my hand away and lowered over my erection with an open mouth. I slapped a palm against the wall and grabbed hold of his hair to keep from falling off the pleasure cliff as he took my shaft to the back of his throat in one go.
Even knowing that Noon had been with men before, he’d been with Stacey for so long that I’d assumed his lack of recentexperience would’ve left him rusty. The way he flattened his tongue along the underside of my cock as he bobbed up and down while moaning said he remembered everything from his prior experiences. It said he missed this.
“I-I’m gonna come,” I panted as he buried his nose into the short hairs at my base while my cockhead tapped at his tonsils.
“No, you’re not,” he snarled, releasing me with an audible pop. “And that’s an order. I need you to hold on a lot longer, beautiful.” His lips glistened with saliva and pre-cum, and his eyes darkened as if he knew I wanted a taste of it and wasn’t brazen enough to ask.
“Do you want to taste yourself?” he crooned as he jerked me off with languid movements.
My hands now gripped the sink’s marble edge, the tips of my nails bending under the pressure. “Yes,” I whispered, undulating in his huge fist, feeling the scorch of embarrassment climb the long expanse of my neck. I’d never done this before, never given voice to what I wanted sexually, had never been asked what I wanted. Had never so shamelessly participated. Or maybe not so shamelessly.
“Never be embarrassed to ask me for what you want,” he said in a soft, lust-filled tone. “There’s no judgment between us, no right or wrong, only what feels right. Only what we want to fucking do to each other. Do you hear me?”
“Y-yes,” I said, so close to disobeying his order not to come.
“Good.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Now, tell me what you want.”
I bit my lip, nostrils flaring as I focused on answering him and not spilling all over his hand. Noon groaned, a damp spot forming on his light blue jeans from where his own pre-cum had leaked through the material. “I-I want to taste your mouth.”
“Why?” he asked, toying with me.
“Because…”
“I’m listening, beautiful.”
“Because you look like you want to eat me alive, and I want to know why,” I said boldly. Noon released my cock, melding his mouth to mine before the ache of being left bereft could make a sound. Unlike before, he didn’t take the lead, didn’t wrestle me into submission with his sheer mass and devastating ferocity.
He allowed me to savor him, to dip in and out of him, to indulge, to lick and lap up what remained at the corners. I tasted like salt and cream, smelled like cedarwood with a hint of masculine musk. I swayed as though intoxicated, hypnotized, and he held me still, held me together with a forceful squeeze of my nape as he trailed fingers up and down the leg I’d secured around him.
“Fuck me,” I said crudely, so unlike myself. With more aggression than needed, I got his jeans undone, reaching in to withdraw his erection with building trepidation.
“Are you ready for me to fuck you, Solace?” He gave me time to weigh and measure the monster in my hand, time to understand what a challenge taking him would be, what a pleasure it would be too—if I could manage.
I thought about Stacey, instant jealousy burning, as I wondered if she’d been able to handle all of him. “Yes,” I said firmly.
“Where?”
I looked through the open door into the bedroom, the bedroom I’d shared with my husband. A bedroom I hadn’t slept in since shortly after Noon had arrived.
“Take me in the bed Patrick and I once shared, then take me everywhere in this house. Make everything ugly within it beautiful again. Make the last memory of this place be filled with something other than pain.”
“Are you sure?” Noon unraveled my braid before slipping his hands under my ass and lifting me into his arms. My legstightened around his hips, his cock sliding through my exposed cleft as he spread and then kneaded my ass cheeks.
“Yes,” I said before capturing his lips in a kiss that we both shared control over this time.
Noon walked us into the darkened bedroom; the scant light spilling in from the bathroom and the hallway more than enough to see him by.
He placed me on my back near the foot of the bed, examining every inch of me, likely wondering which part he wanted to devour next. “Let me see you,” he whispered, one hand gripping his testicles, the other working his cock. He looked lewd standing above me, his muscular thighs and arms flexing as he openly stroked himself to my modesty.
“Please,” he begged, and I lifted my hands from where they guarded my straining cock. He groaned, dropping his chin to his chest as he pumped his shaft harder and faster in a broken rhythm. “Now show me the other place, beautiful. That’s it,” he hissed as I spread my legs for him.
Patrick had never watched me this way, had always been too selfish about his own needs to appreciate me like this. I’d thought what we had was magical, at one point. I’d thought he loved me so much and wanted me so badly that he couldn’t be bothered to wait. Thought being inside of me felt so good to him that waiting until I came before he did was out of his hands. How wrong I’d been. I was currently staring at the definition of magical, the epitome of want and need, and a body that would break worlds apart before it dared to climax ahead of me.
I clasped the backs of my thighs and spread my legs for him, the moment feeling symbolic, empowering, even, and I held my breath until I felt lightheaded, forcing the tears away.
Noon let go of his cock and balls to fall to his knees, tracing my ring of muscle with one shaky digit. My head dropped to the mattress as I gritted out something nonsensical.
“Just a taste,” he whispered before driving his tongue toward my opening. I inhaled sharply in surprise, my heels dropping to the bed and pushing me away from his seeking mouth. Noon yanked me back onto his face, folding me in half, my knees nearly touching my ears.
