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I think about my own kids—though I try to ignore the reminder that Noah’s younger than they are—and I can never imagine loving anything more than them. I know that I’m supposed to love God first. That’s the whole point of a myriad of gospels. God is before everything but that’s just not true for me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my twins, nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for them.
And if they ever ‘lived the way God didn’t want them to’, I don’t think I’d force them to come to a place they hate. I certainly wouldn’t risk their future and their education to prove a point.
“Sometimes I wonder if they even love me at all.”
“Baby. Come here,” I say sternly. I’m not usually the one to take this tone in our dynamic, but I need him to stop saying such miserable things. He takes a slow step forward and drops his head against the crook of my neck, his soft exhale tickling my skin. I rub my hands up and down his back while I nuzzle the side of his head, briefly kissing his ear. “You are absolutely incredible. You’re funny in a really crude type of way. You showed how loyal you are when you stood up for Patrick. You cared about me when I told you about my past. What’s not to love about you?”
“I wish my parents could feel that way about me,” he confesses, trembling in my arms. “I wish I was worthy of that love.”
“You are worthy of it,” I whisper, kissing his ear once again “Who could be foolish enough not to love you?”
“I wish I could believe that,” he chuckles.
I grip him tighter. I don’t like the way he’s thinking. Noah, despite his flaws, is perfect. Despite his anger, his crudeness, his feigned indifference, is absolutely magnificent. He’s one of a kind. He managed to break through my shell and make me realize I have the freedom to act on my wants, no matter how wrong they are. He was able to give me something I never believed I could have. He did this all with courage in his heart and hidden compassion brimming under the surface.
An idea comes to me. It’s one that I would normally try to push away, but Noah makes me want to explore all those parts of me I’ve kept hidden. “Let me show you how special you are.”
He looks confused when he pulls away, but his eyes darken as I play with the edge of his T-shirt, pushing it up to expose the thin trail of hair that leads down his stomach and disappears beneath his pants. His confidence is regained when he steps back to rip off his shirt in anticipation of what he can sense is coming. I love that he’s back to what I know, self-assured and positively daunting.
I lean forward into temptation and lick at his nipple, my eyes closing and my voice moaning as I wrap my tongue around the little barbell pierced there. I give him wet kisses, sucking the piercing into my mouth hungrily. I kiss it before speaking and looking up at him. “I love these. The first time I saw them, I just wanted to suck on them until I left a bruise.”
“Do it,” he commands, strong hands palming the back of my head as he yanks me against his chest. “Claim me.”
And I do. My enthusiasm is boundless as I lap at his other nipple, tonguing the barbell and lightly yanking on it with my teeth. He lets out a deep groan that shoots straight to my cock when I let my hand play with his other piercing. But it’s not enough. I’ve gotten a hint of the taste of his skin, just a peak at the salty tang of his body, and I want more.
I’m greedy and gluttonous as I push him back and drop to my knees. It aches a bit, but I mask my wince as my fingers immediately fly to his belt. I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’ve never sucked a man off before, although I imagined it late in the night when my inhibitions were low, and my dreams ran amuck.
“You’re going to suck me?” he asks, his voice deep and husky as I pull down his pants and underwear, just over his ass, trapping his legs in place. I let out an unrecognizable high-pitched whine when he smacks me in the face with his cock.
It’s a thing of beauty. It’s long and hard, thick in all the right places. It’s slightly larger than mine, just in girth, and I know I’m going to have a rough time wrapping my lips around it. But I want the challenge. I want to ache as I take him in. I want to be stuffed so full of him I could choke on his cock happily.
“Give it to me,” I beg, whining yet again when he pulls his cock away just as my lips get close enough to smell his musk. “Noah.”
He chuckles darkly as he pushes his clothes all the way down, standing gloriously naked in front of me, all of that youth and beauty on display just for me. “You want it so bad, don’t you babe?”
I nod rapidly as he lifts his cock, giving me a peak of the piercing nestled on the underside just at the base. “Please, Noah.”
“Open up,” he whispers huskily, prying my jaw open with his thumb, making sure to rub it on my tongue for a brief second. “Let me feed you my dick.”
I open up as he demands, and he slowly slides the tip of his cock into my mouth. I want to take more. I want to take all of it, but he’s controlling the pace and in charge of the amount I’m given. It’s torture to have my mouth open like this—hungry and waiting—but be denied what I want more than anything else. He gets himself halfway in my mouth and holds it there, threading one hand through my hair as he looks down at me fondly. Finally, and with excruciating care, he gives me every single inch of him.
He’s thick and throbbing in my mouth, so utterly male that it makes my cock jerk with a hit of precum that dampens my underwear. The fabric is sticky as he continues to fuck my face slowly, but I don’t dare touch myself.
Not yet. Not until he says I can.
He rests both hands on either side of my face and when I give him one deep suck, hollowing my cheeks and lightly scraping my teeth against his sensitive skin, he groans. “Jarred…babe…get me in there. Suck me deeper.”
I do as he demands. He’s letting me take control now, and I’m not going to disappoint. I bob my head up and down his cock, not at all ashamed or embarrassed by how eager I am to make him come. I want to worship him, but my patience is thin. I want to taste that salty cum in my mouth. I want that pleasure-stricken expression on his face. I want to be the only one who makes him feel this fuckinggood.
I take him all the way to the back of my throat and—with a deep breath and a shit ton of confidence I don’t have—I let him in until I’m deepthroating his cock. I can feel the drool spilling out of my mouth and onto the floor. I can feel the prickling of tears in my eyes, but I don’t dare back off. Not when his eyes widen in surprise and those gloriously lithe thighs tighten by how hard he’s trying not to shove himself in any further.
“So pretty. Look at those tears,” he hums, skating his thumb over my cheek to pad at the wetness. He brings it to his lips and sucks it into his mouth. Something flashes in those dark eyes, and he smirks as he parts his legs and reaches behind him. “Get your fingers in my ass.”
I pull off him quickly. Did he just say what I think he said? I’ve never been anywhere near his ass. I just always assumed that he liked to be on top, that he didn’t want anyone going anywhere near his hole, but he just told me to go there. For a brief moment, I feel so stupid. Here he is, wantonly and confidently demanding I fuck him, so in charge and secure of his own masculinity.
I will admit that when he fucked me—when I felt him deep inside me—I couldn’t ignore the feeling of being less than a man. I loved every second of it, don’t get me wrong, but that nagging itch in my mind wouldn’t go away. Now, I feel like an idiot for ever thinking that. If Noah—mysterious, angry, so fucking perfect Noah—can ask me to fuck him then there’s nothing to be ashamed of.
My fingers are trembling as I suck them into my mouth, making sure to get them nice and wet before I reach around him. I bump his hands on the way and notice that he’s holding his spread cheeks apart for me. I blindly move my finger around until I feel his puckered hole, and I almost want to ask him to turn around so I can get a nice long look at it. I bet it’s perfect, pink, so eager to swallow me up.
