Chapter 14 #3
I wait for his safe word or some sign of him tapping out, for fear or reproach to cross his face, because I can’t do this if we are even slightly out of sync.
I look for anything at all that would tell me he’s not in this with me, but he is.
He’s watching me with that anticipatory, almost hungry gaze, tongue wetting his lips, the tip of his pretty cock glistening with pre-come.
We are in perfect alignment.
“I’m going to hit you four times,” I tell him. “And you’re going to count.”
He draws in his breath. “Okay.”
The first impact of my hand against his ass nearly sends Noel out of the tub. He goes spilling over the rim along with a whole lot of water and bubbles, gasping, and I shush him and tell him to be still. “Count,” I remind him.
“One,” he says through gritted teeth.
The second one gets a less dramatic reaction, a shudder, a whimpered two, and he tries to bury his face in his arms. “Jesus,” he whispers. “It hurts.”
“Look at me, Noel,” I say again. “I want to see your face.” Want to see his reaction as well as hear it, feel it, be in it.
He does. Flinches violently for the third spank, but his lovely eyes do not stray from my face.
There are tears gathering in the corners of them, but they’re getting that faraway look now, buoyant, out to sea somewhere, seeing me without seeing me.
His lips are moving in some silent prayer that I cannot read or hear, but I know it anyway. What he is, and what he wants.
“Three.” It’s a husky whisper.
It makes me feel like I’m floating. He said that about pain once, about subspace. When I had him on my tattoo bed, punching ink into his skin. I remember this exact look on his face.
By the fourth and final resounding smack his asscheeks are bright red compared to the rest of his fair skin, inflamed and angry.
I love how well he marks up and I love marking him up.
I love how well he takes it at all, the sound of his hitched breath with every slap, the look of soft ecstasy on his face, the way his body goes soft and languid, as if he’s already spent himself.
“Four.” One tremulous word alone and I can tell he’s riding the edge.
It’s like he’s made for this. Being hurt.
And I was made for hurting him.
I don’t even feel bad about it. There’s no shame here at all, in this space that only we share. We are two sides of the same coin that come together perfectly in this moment and make each other whole. We’re a two-piece puzzle.
I reach for the lube sitting on the tub’s rim before I take Noel in my arms. He’s making soft, eager sounds as I kiss him, keening against my mouth, begging pleasepleaseplease and have to get him up on his knees again before I can slide my slick fingers between his legs quickly.
I’m so desperate to be inside him and he’s desperate for me to be there.
Noel’s already begun to go to pieces by the time I’ve lined myself up with him, and then as I ease him down onto my cock he’s falls apart completely.
I don’t even get to touch him first before he’s started coming, and he’s loud with it as his come spills out across his stomach.
He shudders and cries out my name in his sweet, clear voice as I fuck him through it.
I grab his hips and hold him up as I drill up into him, chasing the tail end of his orgasm as my own quickly builds.
Watch my dick disappear inside him over and over as he throws his head back, his entire body arching into mine.
I lean down and lick up his neck and jaw while he moans. “Good boy,” I rasp against his ear. “You’re taking me so well.”
And he feels incredible, too. Tight, hot, just wet enough from the lube, and his thighs are coiled around my waist tight.
I lay him back in the water so I can get a better angle and his hands slap against the side of the tub, bracing himself for dear life.
He’s a gorgeous fucking sight half-submerged and surrounded by bubbles, some trickster god born anew from the waves.
He’s begging me to breed him and he’s calling me Daddy again and I can’t take any more of it. It’s built up and up and up and when he talks like that I just go off like a fucking gun, shoving myself as far inside of him as I can go and giving him every last drop of me.
I sit back heavily with a splash and I tug him back with me.
We’ve lost nearly half the goddamn water in the tub to the floor at this point; the water level is considerably lower than I remember it.
Noel’s panting comes quick and shallow. We both just lie there in the remains of our bubble bath and are no cleaner for it, trying to catch our breaths.
“Okay?” I whisper to him, stroking his wet hair. “Not too much?”
“You went too easy on me.” It’s a lazy accusation, no bite behind it at all. “Should’ve done much worse.”
“You have to walk tomorrow, stunt girl. I was being considerate.”
“I can crawl.”
I press my lips to his forehead, laughing. “As much as I would like to see that, I’m not sure your fellow artists and future clients would feel the same.”
He grumbles, burrowing his face in my neck, and I feel the wet rasp of his tongue against my throat. “You’re perfect,” he mumbles. “Everything about you is perfect. You give me everything.”
“It’s no less than you deserve,” I tell him.