Page 43 of The Caretaker
“Oh God!” I panted as the initial shock wore off, gripping his hair and fisting the bedsheet. I peered down my chest to find his hungry eyes on me as he lapped at me, nostrils pumping furiously as he breathed my scent into his lungs.
“You taste so fucking good.” His hair slipped from my fingers when he pulled away to drag the back of his hand over his wet mouth before plunging back in.
I shouted when he bit down on one cheek, strangling the root of my cock to keep from coming right then.
Noon stood unsteadily a few minutes later, his cock an angry shade of purple, the head wet, a milky teardrop running away from it. “I need you now.” Arousal added a cutting edge to his words.
“The drawer,” I said, pointing, voice dripping with desire.
“Do we need condoms?” he panted, destroying the nightstand to get to the bottle of lube.
“No,” I said. “We don’t.”
“Good.” He poured lube over his hardness, reclaiming his spot at the foot of the bed like a god looking down on his worshiper. He’d need a good amount to adequately cover his cock—the distended crown stretched well beyond his belly button.
“I hope you don’t have plans for the foreseeable future,” he said, the mattress sinking as he knelt between my legs and proceeded to drive me up the bed with his thighs, “because I’m going to fuck you every chance I get. I’m going to fuck you until all you taste and smell is my cum. Until my cum is seeping fromyour pores. I’m going to fuck you right here, until this bed is bathed in us. Until you can’t even remember his name.”
I groaned deep in my throat as he drenched his hand and my hole with lube before slipping his pinky finger in, all the way to the second knuckle. What should have been the smallest digit on his hand equaled the girth and length of two of mine combined. Nothing about Noon was normal, though. Not his hands, his cock, his mind, or his heart.
“Breathe,” he instructed, relaxing onto his haunches and taking his time to loosen me up. He inserted a second finger, scissoring them and holding my hips down when my lower body lifted off the bed. By the time the third digit entered me, I was welcoming them in with enthusiasm. I didn’t give a damn which one of us came first or when, and by the time I was ready to handle a fourth, my whole body was saturated with sweat.
“I’m ready,” I said unevenly. He lowered to one forearm, and I wanted to kiss him but our height difference made it difficult in this position. I settled for kissing his collarbone while fucking his hand and begging for his cock. “Please, Noon. I’m ready.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I. Am,” I gritted out, tugging his hair. It had to have been an hour since we began kissing in the bathroom, maybe more. If his goal was to send me so far toward the edge that I was stripped of all decorum, he’d succeeded. This time, there wasn’t a hint of doubt in my voice when I barked, “Fuck me already.”
“Promise me you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you,” he said, but I was too busy salivating at the sight of him guiding his cock to my entrance to process the request. “Promise me, Solace.”
“I promise,” I said as he hooked one arm behind my knee before planting his fist into the mattress.
I fought for air as he took his time seating his tip inside of me, my nails digging into his back, pulling a wince from him.
“How does that feel?” he asked, letting go of his cock to grip the headboard for support, the wood groaning under his strength.
“Good,” I moaned. Noon started up a rhythm of shallow thrusts, giving me an inch at a time. “More.”
“Not…yet,” he forced out between his teeth, sweat giving his body a glistening sheen. “You’re fucking tight, Solace.”
Even with all the preparation, it was still a challenge to accept him. The vein at the center of his forehead bulged from the effort it took to hold himself back, and my orgasm began tickling up my spine. He made it halfway in before picking up his pace. We moaned in unison.
“You feel so good,” he said, thrusting and panting, no longer feeding me more of his cock, never graduating beyond the halfway point.
“I can take more,” I panted, bearing down. Noon tested the waters, and I stiffened.
“It’s still good just like this,” he said, striking my prostate repeatedly until I couldn’t remember my own goddamned name. “You’re still the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
Was that what he was used to? Had his wife not been able to handle all of him? Patrick wasn’t even half his size.
“I want it all,” I said, my conviction bigger than this moment. “No more settling for less.” That went for the both of us.
Noon rolled us, and I gasped, my hands slapping onto his chest as this position made him feel impossibly larger, made me feel incapable.
“We go at your pace,” he said, brushing my hair from my face as I caught my breath. He lay there trembling as I took my time rising and lowering onto his cock. I rode him at the speed necessary for me, until I had him fully sheathed within me. I felt stuffed beyond capacity, the pleasure too consuming, thesensation of him filling me so deeply the only thing I could spare brain power to focus on.
Noon sat up, catching me off guard, back bowing so that our faces aligned. He kissed me as if punishing me, and I slowly rocked on top of him. We were shaking the bed before we knew it, my ass crashing down onto his lap as my hole swallowed every impressive inch of him.
Noon repositioned my legs so they circled him, then lifted me by the hips until only his tip remained inside before slamming me back onto him. “Why wasn’t it you?” he asked with surprising emotion. “Why wasn’t it always you?”
