It was on this thought his hand traveled over my hip and in.
I drew in a sharp breath and turned my head just as Noc lifted his so our mouths were nearly touching.
“Two,” he murmured and I shuddered under him at that word, what it meant and his fingers trailing through my most intimate part. “So wet,” he whispered, “can’t wait to taste that for three.”
“You,” was all I had in me to reply.
“Later.”
“Noc—”
He kissed me. He used his tongue. It was magnificent.
But it was too short.
“Later,” he repeated against my lips, and before I could utter a word, his lips moved down my body.
Noc eventually tasted me.
He took his time. He demonstrated extraordinary skill.
And in the end, I got three.
* * * * *
We were naked and abed, Noc on his back, head and shoulders up on stacked pillows, me cuddled into his side.
The room was dark, lit only by the misty blue sparking up from Noc’s bare chest.
I had his hand in mine and was guiding his big palm under the sparks.
Together, we lifted them up and I turned his hand with my own, circling the shimmers until they formed a ball.
Willing that ball to do as I wished, I pulled my hand away and said softly, “All yours, darling.”
Noc continued circling it, replying, “What do I do with it?”
I looked at his face and experienced something profound, seeing its handsomeness lit by the beautiful blue of my magic.
At the sight, I felt my body melt more deeply into his side as I replied, “It’s just a plaything. It has no power to harm. Toy with it. Or you can disburse it by drawing your hand through it. You can set it on the night table to return to later. Or, throw it across the room, and if you do that, it’ll travel back to you as it’s yours. I gave it to you.”
Lazily, he drew his hand back, the ball followed, and he tossed it across the room, the blue-arced streak it made, utterly gorgeous (if I did say so myself).
It flew nearly to the wall before it stopped and slowly made its way back.
When Noc took it, he circled his hand around it several times before he curled his fingers into a fist, only his forefinger out, and he twirled the ball on his finger. Eventually, he reopened his hand, drew his fingers through it and it disappeared, leaving us in darkness.
Without delay, he turned into me, gathering me in his arms.
“You know you’re the shit?” he asked, his deep voice deeper with obvious pride.
I knew he thought that.
I adored that he thought that.
And I loved that tone in his voice.
“I’ve done quite well, Valentine says,” I shared softly. “Though now she says she’s nothing more to teach me except, how she phrases it, ‘in the field.’ This means I need practical experience to advance further. And I’ll tell you, Noc,” I went on, cuddling even closer, “I’m quite excited. It’s fascinating, magic, learning to wield it, understanding my power, how to use it, how not to abuse it. Although I missed you gravely while we were parted, Valentine showing me what’s inside me and all I’m capable of doing…I’ll never forget our times together and be forever grateful for all she’s done for me.”
“You missed me gravely?”
I stared at him through the dark and stiffened.
He pulled me closer. “Babe, before you freak you let that out, you gotta know already I missed you gravely too.”
His words meant much to me and from the moment we were reunited he had not hidden that they were true.
Even so, for the first time since I came to his world, reality intruded and I wondered at the wisdom of this impetuous shift in our relations.
Outside Josette, Noc was my truest friend.
Indeed, the only other friend I had in my world, Frey’s mother, Valeria, I didn’t even explain that I was leaving so it went without saying I didn’t bid her farewell.
That said, the last I’d heard from her (some months prior), Frey’s father had officially severed ties with her—meaning ending their marriage—not an unwelcome happenstance for Valeria.
She was currently residing with her longtime paramour, an almost grotesquely wealthy merchant, who was still just a merchant.
Obviously, the old Franka would think that, but I was right then lying abed with a naked city watchman who had treasure, this was true (he’d told me he accepted a reward for his part in ending Minerva’s plot) but no House and no title, and I did not care a whit. Therefore, I no longer cared if Valeria’s love was a lord, a merchant or a laborer.
Valeria, however, struggled with his lack of position. Until she had no choice but to accept it once her husband finished with her.
My friend of the other world was one to be very present when things in her life were not going well, in order to have someone with whom to complain about them.
In the rare occasions she was happy (prior to becoming the kept woman of a wealthy merchant), she’d all but disappear.
Thus I knew she was deliriously happy. So much so, I barely heard from her, such was her contentment.
This did not negate the fact that I cared about her, she cared about me, and I’d left our entire world behind, with her in it, without even a goodbye.
What kind of friend was I, doing that to Valeria?
And what kind of friend was I, jumping into bed with Noc without thinking of the repercussions that might have?
“Frannie?” Noc called my attention back to him.
My stiff body stiffened further. “Perhaps we should—”
He interrupted me. “No. We shouldn’t.”