Home > Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)(99)

Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)(99)
Author: Kristen Ashley

His penchant for interruption was beginning to peeve me.

“You keep interrupting me and I’m not fond of it,” I shared irritably.

“You haven’t complained before now,” he replied. “And that’s probably because it led to things like me going down on you and you had no problem with that. Now you got somethin’ to say that I can feel by your change in mood doesn’t need to be said, not right now, but for some reason you feel like fuckin’ this up, and I’m not gonna let you. But you’re not used to not getting what you want so suddenly you’re ‘not fond of it.’”

First things first.

“Going down on me?” I queried.

“Makin’ you come with my mouth,” he explained.

Well, that certainly was going down, for Noc’s part. He just was so good at it, it made me fly high.

“That’s explained,” I went on then carried on. “Now I’ll note if I have something to say, I’d like to be able to say it. And truthfully, I can’t believe I even have to make the request.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ shit up,” he returned.

“I’m not ‘fuckin’ shit up,’” I retorted.

He rolled into me so I had some of his weight at my hips, his long legs tangling in mine, and he lifted up on a bent elbow so he wasn’t looming over me but he did have the dominant position.

This, my guess, though I wouldn’t ever know for certain, was a ploy often used by Frey, Lahn and Tor when their wives were doing something, which they had every intention of containing, and such an occurrence happened in bed.

This, I also found irritating, at the same time I found it titillating.

Which was even more irritating.

Blast!

“You wanna talk about this.” He pressed his hips into mine. “Us. Where we are. What we did. How it came about. And you wanna do it because you’re freaked, thinkin’ it happened too fast or it was the wrong direction for us to go, or whatever the fuck.”

I didn’t get the opportunity to confirm this was exactly what I wanted to do, he continued speaking.

“It didn’t happen too fast, Frannie, it took too fuckin’ long, in my opinion. And it wasn’t the wrong direction. At least for me, I’m right where I wanted to be since practically the minute we met. You were in a bad place. I had to see to you. I did that. That’s done. You’re not in that place anymore so we’re moving on and this,” he again pressed his hips into mine, “is the direction we’re moving in.”

In truth, his “it took too fuckin’ long, in my opinion” made me want to jump from the bed, shout with glee and perhaps dance a little jig.

Not to mention all the other delightful things he said (practically the minute we met!).

I was a much-changed Franka Drakkar.

But I was not that changed.

Therefore, instead of jumping from the bed, I asked crossly, “And I have no say about that?”

He was silent a moment before I could feel the tremor of his amusement shaking his body as he reminded me, “Frannie, baby, I’ve made you come three times, you’re lying naked pressed to me and think I permanently got indentations in the backs of my thighs from the spikes on your heels. And before you latch on to that,” he said the last swiftly, “that is not a complaint, nowhere near. Your heels could scar me, which they didn’t, and taking that memory with me wherever I go would be fine with me. But you did not fight any of that, and, just pointing out, you still aren’t. With all that, you wanna make a case you’re not good with this direction?”

This was all true (though I was concerned about the indentations, Noc clearly didn’t mind but those spikes appeared lethal, I hoped I caused no lasting damage).

And I absolutely did not want to make a case that I was not good with this direction.

I didn’t admit that.

I stated, “I’m not pressed to you. You’re pressed to me.”

“Fair enough,” he granted. “Three minutes ago, though, babe, you were pressed to me.”

This, too, was true.

I snapped my mouth shut and fought grinding my teeth.

I saw his shadowed face get closer and I could see the white of his teeth.

Hmm.

How could I forget how bloody annoying Noc could be?

“So, to be clear, the direction you wish to go in is that we have relations?” I asked.

More trembling of his body (and voice) as he replied, “Yeah, sweetheart, I wanna have relations.”

“And what of tomorrow and the next day?” I pressed, pushing back the hope and pulling up the haughty.

“I’ll amend. We’ve had relations. Tonight, we’re gonna have more relations. And after we leave this room and get along with our lives, we’ll continue to have relations, repeatedly and often.”

This was most promising.

In order to confirm, I stated, “To end, you wish our direction to be about you being open to have sex with me.”

Unexpectedly, his mirth swept through the room with such speed, I froze against him in reaction to the change.

“You really asking me that shit?” he demanded, his voice low and there was a tremor to it, but it certainly was not humor.

It was anger.

Noc had never been angry at me.

Not once.

I didn’t like it. Not at all.

I was concerned about the wisdom of my response, but the veracity of it couldn’t be denied as I’d already “asked him that shit.”

“Well…yes,” I said hesitantly.

“You think all I want is your pussy?”

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