And that box was really quite little. I’d been in privies that were larger.
Not to mention, Noc told me it was going to move.
Upward.
Taking us with it!
I felt a frisson of panic gather at the small of my back and my eyes shot to Noc’s.
“Noc, I’m uncertain—”
My attention shifted instantly to the doors as they slid closed.
My heart bolted up to my throat and my body locked.
Then my back hit the wall of the box, Noc’s body pressing it there, and both his hands were at my jaw tipping it up.
Before I could draw in a breath, his mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue slid inside and the panic disappeared.
There was no box.
There was no world.
There was only Noc, his touch, his taste…him.
He kissed me even as I felt my belly fall (and it wasn’t only because of his kiss).
He kept kissing me even as I heard the soft whoosh noise of the doors opening.
He stopped kissing me to grab my hand and pull me down a carpeted hallway that was wide and elegant and exceptionally brightly lit.
I was breathing with difficulty, trying to focus on walking without falling, something that was not easy considering my focus wanted to be on the tingling occurring at my lips, along my skin, and between my legs.
He stopped us at a door, pulled the tiny envelope the man gave him out of his front pocket and opened it. He then took a flat, rectangular doodad from it, touched it to a space above the door handle and I blinked in surprise as I heard a whirring noise at the same time a section at the top of the area Noc touched with the doodad lit green.
“My word,” I whispered, staring at the green light.
How could Noc say this world had no magic?
It seemed to be everywhere!
Noc opened the door, pulled me inside and stopped us both.
He touched something on the wall and the space we were in illuminated.
Just.
Like.
That!
And there was more magic!
“My word,” I breathed.
He took a placard that was hanging from the back door handle and suspended it from the front, pushed the door closed, flicked a metal doohickey at the jamb that looked like a rather clever door latch that could not be opened from the outside (an excellent safety feature in this, what appeared to be, large public inn), and then he caught my hand again.
Before I could take in where I was and all that had happened, I was standing at the foot of a large bed, my back to it, Noc standing in front of me.
I looked up at him.
“Noc—”
“Shut up, baby.”
I blinked up at him.
He twisted at the waist, and with a flick of his fingers, he flung the doodad across to a bureau behind him. It landed on the top but even before it did, he’d twisted back to me.
“Noc—”
He lifted his hands to my jaw again and I quieted.
“Missed you,” he said softly.
I stared into his eyes.
He did.
It was written right there, right there for me to see.
With a wide variety of other things.
All of which I loved.
“And I you,” I replied.
“Done missin’ you, and really fuckin’ glad I am,” he stated.
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.