“Franka,” he replied instantly, shifting so he was completely on top of me, his hands gliding all the way up my back so he could use both to cup my head, “no offense, baby, but that’s complete bullshit.”
Noc.
Bloody annoying.
Even in moments like these.
My hand still at his jaw moved to his shoulder and shoved as I snapped, “It is not.”
“It’s what you tell yourself so you don’t lose hold on everything you know, and I get that, sweetheart. The way your reality has shifted the last months, all you’ve known gone in a blink, that’s gotta be pretty fuckin’ scary. But everyone knows it was all an act. It was always an act. They know the real you. The only one who doesn’t is you.”
This was a refrain I’d heard before.
He was right about the new Franka.
But he was also very wrong for the new Franka was just that.
New.
“It’s impossible for people, including you, Noc, to know me better than me.”
One of his thumbs started drawing soothing circles on the skin under my ear (which felt nice) while his other hand shifted and he started stroking my jaw with that thumb (which arguably felt nicer).
He did this while he murmured, “See I got more work to do to get you out of that bad place.” His thumb at my jaw shifted further and he rubbed it across my lips before he dropped his head and did the same with his own lips. Once he’d done that, against mine, he stated, “But I’ll get to that later. That’s too heavy for now. And anyway, it’s time for number four.”
Number four?
Had he gone mad?
“Just to say, after arguing with you and all the rest, I’m really not in the mood for another orgasm,” I shared waspishly, saying words I never thought I’d ever say.
Especially about orgasms delivered by Noc.
He nipped my lower lip with his teeth.
I couldn’t stop it…
I shivered.
“Bullshit,” he whispered, his amusement in that one word abundantly clear.
“You do know you’re bloody annoying,” I declared. “And that part of you I do not cherish, Noctorno Hawthorne. That part of you I also did not miss. Not even slightly.”
That was all a lie. I missed every part of him. Including him being irksome.
“Mm,” he hummed against my lips, and, drat it all!
I shivered again.
“You don’t care that at times I find you annoying, do you?” I asked.
“Baby, you cherish me. Don’t give a fuck there’s some parts you don’t. That shit’s gonna happen.” He slid his mouth to my ear and whispered, “Just fuckin’ thrilled there are parts you do.”
“I see,” I told the ceiling, “that I should learn when to shut my mouth.”
He slid his lips back to mine and stated, “Now is not that time.”
I started to say something and didn’t finish because Noc was kissing my open mouth and doing it deeply.
And then he set about proving that it was, indeed, bullshit that I was not in the mood for another orgasm.
Apparently, I was.
In fact, apparently, I was in the mood for two.
* * * * *
Noc’s hands insistent on my hips, he murmured, “Faster, sweetheart.”
I did not move faster.
Sitting astride him, I gazed down at him lying on his back before me in the faint early morning light and took my time moving up and down on his shaft, shifting my hips or torso minutely to change the angle, give him a surprise, offer him more, all while I watched his enjoyment.
As did he, watching me do my work.
His fingers dug into my flesh.
“Frannie, baby, faster.”
I again didn’t go faster.
That night, I’d had eight orgasms. He’d had one. I could take all the time I needed to give him the depth of pleasure I was right then intent to give him.
Moving at the same speed, I bent over him, trailing a hand lazily down his chest. My hair falling over my shoulder and brushing his pectoral, I squeezed my walls around his cock, filled myself with him and started undulating.
“Fuck, Frannie,” he gritted, his eyes aflame, his fingers now biting into me.
“Allow me to give you something, darling.”
“You been givin’ somethin’ to me but givin’ more of it to me about now would be good, baby.”
I smiled at him.
His gaze dropped to my mouth and his body under mine went utterly still.
I found that an odd and disturbing reaction.
Then, with a surprised cry, I found myself again on my knees but no longer straddling Noc with his shaft inside me.
I was facing the headboard, forced slightly to bent by Noc’s chest in my back. He had a hand between my legs, finger at my clitoris, his other hand was angled across my chest, those fingers curled around the side of my neck.
And he was driving his cock inside me swiftly and brutally.
Oh.
My, my, my.
The pad of thumb pressed up under my jaw, forcing my head back to his shoulder as he kept taking me violently, pounding into me.
Amazing.
His lips at my ear, he grunted, “Want number nine.”
“Noc,” I forced out.
Loving the feel of his cock slamming into me, the power of him surrounding me, the dominance of him having mounted me, I lifted a hand to brace myself against the headboard so I could get more out of his thrusts.
“Come on, baby,” his finger at my clitoris started twitching dazzlingly, “give me nine.”
I felt the tingles ripple up the fronts of my thighs and I started to push myself back to meet his drives, gasping with effort and pleasure through each.