Chapter 19
Noah
This weekend wasn’t anything like what I expected, and nothing had followed the carefully constructed script in my head. The one I had set up so I wouldn’t be disappointed. If this happened? I could do this. If he said this? I could say that.
Nothing here fit my narrative, and that in itself was a massive relief.
Because the reality of what we were doing was way better.
It was past midnight, and we were on the sofa, all tangled up, talking.
This room was huge with high ceilings and dark wood panelling, and judging by the many blankets piled up on the sofa, it got way colder than this.
Thick carpets and that old smell you picked up in museums. Nothing like my tidy little fresh-smelling newbuild down south.
Somehow? I preferred this. This had character and was lived in and felt like someone’s very old…
home. If I thought my parents’ bungalow was old-fashioned and backwards?
This was positively antique. Yet I loved it. Because he was right there in it.
I now knew everything about the school, the history of this room, that there was a hidden panel to the storeroom next door and that the top windows didn’t open but the bottom ones let through such a draft that icicles would form on the windowsills in winter.
Silly things, but I loved this. I felt…so normal. Perfectly so even.
“We should go to bed,” I suggested, stifling another yawn. Stroking his hair. Kissing his forehead, with him lying against my chest, all tangled up in me. My hoodie and T-shirt tugged up so he could get his hand underneath, gently stroking my stomach with his fingertips.
Things that should have perhaps excited me but instead had calmed me, right to the bone.
I loved it. Loved everything about what we were creating here, all things I so desperately wanted to last.
“Would be a shame to let my clean arse go to waste,” he snickered softly into my bare skin. My chest was getting scratched from the stubble on his chin as he messed around with my clothing.
“Fox, would you like me to fuck you?” I could barely believe I was saying those words, with strength in my voice and conviction. I wanted to. And his little nod?
“I’m wearing a jockstrap, and it’s bloody killing me.”
“Take it off then, you silly man.”
“Not silly. Just… I thought…”
“I like you best when you’re naked.” Who was being silly here? Obviously me.
“Then we’d better get a move on before we fall asleep. What are we like? I feel old. I used to be able to go out clubbing all night. I went to uni in Manchester, and we were, like, surviving on zero sleep and still made it to lectures.”
“I never went clubbing at all. Newcastle’s student scene wasn’t my thing.
I lived in a shared house and spent most of my time locked in my room trying to cram everything into my head.
I went out once, got roped into going to a gay club and lost my virginity to some dude who wouldn’t even look at me after.
But, at least it was done. I went back a few times. Wasn’t that memorable in the end.”
“Was I memorable?”
What a question to ask, but oh gosh, I got it. I got every little anxious thought that was obviously swirling in his head because they were swirling in mine too, every few seconds questioning what I was doing here. Then remembering why.
“I’m here because I can’t get over the fact that you stayed in my bed for forty-eight hours and that I fucked you and you fucked me and it was absolutely everything I’ve ever wanted. That’s why I’m here. Does that make it memorable?”
“For me? I was injured and off my head on your pain meds. I totally blame you.”
“You only fucked me because I drugged you?”
This was not a serious conversation. How I knew? His clothes were coming off faster than I could get mine to drop on that musty, old carpet. Socks and all. His dick already half hard and mine?
“You’ve got the nicest cock, Noah. Thick and all that. Pretty. Also fits nicely in my mouth. Did you know that?”
“Does it now?” My hands on his shoulders, walking him backwards through the room, towards the bed.
A nice, big one. A gentle shove onto the mattress, and his arse was bouncing nicely as I climbed on top of him.
Straddled those thighs. A trail of hair now down his stomach.
He must have waxed for his holiday, but I much preferred him like this.
A little bit of chest hair, which I let my fingertips explore.
I was going to take my time here. All of this, laid out for me to enjoy, like a buffet of sexual favours that I fully intended to sample. All of them. One at a time.
“I waxed…you know,” he started. “Before.”
“Don’t ever think you have to do that. If it makes you happy? It will make me happy, but I love you just like this.”
Fuck.
Not the choice of words I thought I would say. And now I was frozen still, stuttering out syllables.
“I know what you mean,” he said softly. “No biggie.”
“You’re so beautiful.” I meant that, and I was also trying to regain my composure here.
“And I love your body. I love your face. I love that you’re naked in my bed.”
I loved…that he was trying to normalise all of this. Repeat the word so it wouldn’t seem out of place. Take some of that emotional toll from me in one simple sentence.
Which was why I loved him. Because I did. It was far too fast and far too ridiculous, but my heart worked in mysterious ways, and this? This was new and terrible and horrible and absolutely exhausting. I loved him. And now?
His arms were stretched out over his head, and I was kissing down his chest and fuck, I was spoilt for choice here. But I went with it, because the alternative didn’t exist.
“Please fuck me,” he begged. “Please. Don’t question stuff, Noah, just do it.”
What about me? was on the tip of my tongue, but then who was I kidding here? Topping was simple, and he obviously needed it…well.
I had to take a breath. He needed me. It was right there, hanging in the air. How he wanted…me. I suddenly felt like my chest had puffed up and my confidence felt inflated, but he’d asked for it. And I knew he wasn’t just saying things.
I knew him now. Knew enough about him and how he worked and the fact that he was on the bed underneath me, his legs already around my back. Arms around my neck. His mouth greedily kissing mine, as I couldn’t help releasing an almighty moan.
“What was that for?” He smiled into another kiss.
“You,” I growled out. “You drive me… I was going to say crazy, but it’s not that. You make me…I dunno…brave?”
“You’re the bravest guy I’ve ever met. I mean? Here you are? In deepest, darkest Scotland, just because some idiot got drunk and fell asleep on your terrace.”
“On a godforsaken island in the Indian Ocean.”
“Yup.”
“And now you’re wanting me to fuck you? That, my darling, requires no bravery.
” I was being honest as well, because how could I not take advantage of him?
Of that body underneath me, where I got up and yanked his leg over my shoulder and licked a hard line down his stomach.
Up his cock, sucking him into my mouth on the downwards.
The taste of him swooshing me straight back to that hotel room; just this time, I wasn’t such a ball of nerves.
Now I just felt horny, full of wants and needs and the urge to just take him and devour him.
Which was exactly what I was doing, releasing his cock as he let out a needy babble of syllables and words.
My mouth moving downwards, my fingers making light work of holding him open so I could get to his arse.
Lick that hole of his, prod at it with my tongue, taste every part of him I could reach.
“Can you not…” he started.
“Not what?”
“Can we skip the condom?” he whispered, staring at me with a look on his face that I was starting to adore. The need in him. The want. All the feelings he didn’t have words for, so he would just breathe them out in heady little hiccups.
“I got myself tested,” I admitted. “Not because of you…well. I mean…it was the sensible thing to do.”
“I haven’t had time,” he said. “Sorry, I’ve just been so busy and then…”
“I know,” I said. “I understand how busy you’ve been.”
“But I got tested after Thomas, and I haven’t been with anyone since.”
“Why are we talking and not fucking?” I smiled. “I know, you told me, so I’m happy to go without.”
“Plenty of lube.”
“All of the lube. Anything else your highness requires, or can I go back to eating your arse?” Where this language was coming from was beyond me, and perhaps he was right.
I was feeling brave. A newfound confidence that pulsed through my veins, and then I winked at him.
Me? Noah Fairweather? I winked at this gorgeous man, and then, before I blushed at my silly behaviour, I dove back down where I belonged and gave his dick a few good goes with my mouth.
Sucked him and licked him and teased that little slit of his until he was making those little noises again.
“Anything,” he huffed. “Oh fuck.”
My finger was now circling his opening, my hand fiddling around for the lube, which I had cheekily dropped on the bed earlier. Assumptions. I’d felt stupid at the time, now I was just grateful for my organised nature. Lube. All the lube.
“You’re so good at this,” he whispered up there, his leg jerking out to the side as my finger went all the way in past the second knuckle.
Small movements, circling his insides. I knew where to find his pleasure, and this?
Oh God. I loved this. Lived for this. This brilliant man and all his little quirks.
Like his leg kicking out. Having to hold his hand down so he wouldn’t push my head away when I swallowed down his cock.
“Too much,” he panted. “Gonna come so hard.”
“That’s the whole point.” I smiled, kissing the inside of his leg. Pressing a second finger inside of him, which he swallowed up with ease.
“Such a good boy,” I whispered. “Gonna fuck you so good.”
“That’s so dirty.” He laughed.
“But you are a good boy, Headmaster Riley.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nope. It’s my go,” I said sternly, getting up on all fours.
Him underneath me, all flushed and beautiful.
That cock of his standing straight up. It was so tempting just to sink down on him, let myself stretch around all that skin.
I could almost feel it, the heady fullness, the insane stretch.
I didn’t mind. I wanted it. I wanted all of this.
I hoisted his hips up and arranged us so I could press my dick against him.
Lube, everywhere. My fingers holding on to the foreskin as I breached his opening.
Pushed. Watched him try to adjust to me, his head falling back as his eyes closed. Noises. Little puffs of air.
I watched him because, more than anything, this turned me on the most. Knowing what I was doing to him?
Fuck. The feeling was immense. I felt like I was flying, my vision swimming in arousal, allowing myself to push harder, watching myself penetrate him in complete awe.
One small push at a time, his moans against mine.
Adjusting a little more. That final push where he growled out something, his eyes springing open as I pulled out and then slammed back in.
“Fuck,” he said.
“You’re mine,” I grunted, trying to control my breathing.
“More.”
“Fuck yes.”
My choice of words was atrocious, but at this point, it was the only thing that fit.
I wanted to shout them out. Tell him how fucking perfect his arse was, how the way he arched his back turned me on almost as much as the way his arse clenched around me.
I could feel it. I could feel every little movement he was giving me.
And I didn’t even have to think here, my body doing all the work for me as I swam along, holding myself up as he once again adjusted himself so I could go deeper. All the way inside him.
“Noah,” he warned. Oh. Okay. “Fuck, Noah.”
I thought it was the moment I met his eyes. When we just looked at each other and my hips were jacking into him and his legs were clamped around my back, and we were somehow so perfectly in sync.
I thought things like this only happened in stupid, perfectly cut together porn movies. Or in Hollywood films. Where my orgasm depended on his. Where I slammed into him, knowing I only had seconds to spare. The minute his mouth fell slack, I knew.
And my orgasm hit me like a brick wall, the sudden shift in me making me freeze up, my head falling back, and then forward, as I tried desperately to regain control.
I couldn’t. Because his neck was twisted to the side and he roared. Shouted out words, and I thought I had a second coming, perfectly wedged deep inside of him.
No condom. Fuck it felt good. Breeding the shit out of him. Filling him with my seed and somehow claiming him. My thoughts didn’t make any sense, but nothing here did. The way I fell on top of him, my mouth clamping on to his neck. Kisses. Breathing. Anything I could reach.
My fingers fisted in his hair, lube and arse and all. I didn’t care because I needed to hold on to him so I could find my way back to reality.
I didn’t want reality. I wanted this. This ridiculous alternate universe where I lived in a castle in Scotland and had this beautiful man in my bed.
His bed.
And he still hadn’t said a word. Just lay there, breathing. In and out. His cock spent, a trail of wetness on his stomach. I wanted to lick it up, but that would mean letting go of his hair. Moving from this perfect place of bliss I was in. Spent and exhausted, the scent of him everywhere.
“I can smell you,” he said. “I just catch a whiff of you, and I want to bone you. I’ve wanted to get naked from that first whiff in the pub. Don’t know how I lasted this long.
“We came…at the same time.” I grinned. “That was a first for me.”
“Good!” He grinned. “For me as well, I think.”
“Good.”
Fuck. My word game was ridiculous.
“Fox…”
“I know,” he said. “I know this is ridiculous, but I feel it. I can feel everything, and it’s crazy, I know that. But please don’t go back down south. Just stay here. I don’t care how; I just want you here.”
“You know I can’t do that,” I said quietly.
“Pretend you can,” he whispered.
“Okay,” I agreed. Far too easily. “Okay.”