Judgment of the Moon and Stars [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations ManLove)

by Tymber Dalton

  “Yes, Master. That’s what I want.”

  He reached in and stroked Noah’s chin. “Are you scared?”

  “Terrified, Sir.”

  A sweet smile quirked Jackson’s lips. “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “Yeah. Because I’m shitting bricks terrified that you have so much faith in me. But I promise I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to live up to that.”

  * * * *

  Honestly?

  Jackson had spent the weekend lonely as hell, missing Noah, wondering how the hell Noah’s mother had so easily stepped on his last nerve and made him snap after years of thinking he’d moved past the…well, past—

  And had fully expected to be driving away alone at 1:01.

  Had started working on the reality in his head, trying to detach, trying to figure out his next step after having perfection snatched from his fingers.

  Again.

  When he’d spotted Noah exit the building, it’d taken every last ounce of self-control he’d had not to jump, scream, pump his fist in triumph.

  To run to him.

  He should have had more faith in his boy.

  He would have more faith in his boy.

  Except the only way this would work between them for life was if Noah came to him.

  Willingly.

  If Noah would simply trust him, quit living in fear, quit listening to the echoes of his family’s voices in his head, quit worrying about judgments of mythical others and everyones, from the moon and stars and back, they could be happy.

  He knew they could.

  He’d never been more sure of anything in his life.

  Noah was everything and more that he wanted and needed in a partner, and he’d give Noah everything he needed and wanted, everything within his power to give him.

  He’d fight the battles for him, be a buffer between Noah and his family.

  Refuse to let them set more hooks in his psyche, and help Noah gently remove the ones they’d already placed there.

  Lovingly help him heal his old wounds.

  He’d show him what true love felt like, how it could lift his soul.

  How they could build a life together they could be openly proud of.

  Making sure Noah was clear, he closed the door and rounded the car to slide behind the wheel. The county courthouse wasn’t far, only a few blocks, but with the heat he didn’t feel like walking it. After quickly finding a parking spot in the garage across the street, he held hands with Noah as they walked inside with Jackson leading the way. He carried their paperwork and hoped Noah couldn’t see how he trembled.

  Terror was a pretty damn good word to describe it.

  There were five couples ahead of them, and he kept patting his pocket, where he had the rings he’d purchased yesterday despite his fears and worry it might jinx things, matching plain gold bands that only cost him a hundred each.

  A surprise Noah didn’t know about.

  He’d take care of his boy. Maybe later, for their one-year anniversary, they could pick out something else, if Noah wanted to.

  For today, they would do just fine.

  He wanted his mark on his boy, proof to the world they belonged to each other.

  When it was their turn, the clerk took their IDs and the paperwork and quickly scanned through everything.

  “We need a clerk to marry us now, please,” Jackson said.

  “Okay. Step to the side, and as soon as she finishes with the couple in there”—she pointed to a door at the far end of the counter—“she’ll take care of that for you.”

  “Thank you.” He took all their items, including Noah’s ID, and grabbed his hand to tug him out of line and over to where he’d seen the couple who was now inside waiting a few minutes earlier.

  Noah’s gaze remained wide, looking borderline terrified.

  He smiled up at him. “Last chance to back out, baby.”

  Noah shook his head. “No, Master,” he quietly said. “I never had a chance to back out. I fell in love with you that night at the Toucan.”

  Jackson reached up with his free hand and cupped his cheek. “You’re not the only one who fell in love that night.”

  The door opened and a smiling couple, a man and a woman, stepped out, the clerk behind them. After she finished finalizing that couple’s paperwork, she returned and motioned the men inside, closing the door behind them.

  “Do you have your own vows, or do you want me to use the standard vows?”

  “That,” Jackson said, staring at Noah. “Quick and easy.”

  “Rings?”

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  It was worth the shock that flashed across Noah’s features, the way his eyes widened even more.

  Five minutes later, they’d exchanged rings and Jackson gently kissed him as the clerk took a picture for them with Jackson’s phone. Not a fraction as passionately as he wanted to kiss him, but this was a county building.

  He could do sexy and sinful later, at home.

  Their home.

  When they emerged from the building ten minutes later with all the paperwork they’d need—including the change of name forms for Noah that he’d filed at the same time—Jackson stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, threw back his head, and let loose the joyful yell he’d been choking back ever since Noah appeared outside the county admin building.

  “Master!”

  Jackson pulled him in for a long, sexy kiss. “Fuck it, boy. You’re mine, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to let the world know how I feel.”

  Noah laughed. “Yes, Master.”

  * * * *

  There was no use arguing or feeling embarrassed. Jackson was Jackson, and Noah accepted that his own happiness meant letting the man be himself.

  That meant letting him be in charge, and if he wanted to throw his head back and howl his happiness at the moon and stars, he’d go along with it.

  He’d go anywhere the man wanted to lead him.

  Happily.

  Jackson drove him back to work and they sat in his car in the visitor’s lot, Jackson holding Noah’s left hand and silently staring at the wedding band now resting there.

  That had been a pleasant shock, him producing rings.

  Honestly? He wasn’t sure Jackson had really meant they were actually going to get married today. Noah thought maybe he’d wanted to talk, to go to lunch, to sit down and hammer things out. That maybe the whole thing had been some sort of loyalty test.

  Except…

  This was better.

  Way better.

  Crazy and spontaneous and maybe the next step to him losing his family for good, sure, but Noah wouldn’t turn back.

  He couldn’t.

  He couldn’t walk away from Jackson. Not a second time. Maybe his fate had been sealed that night from the moment the man with the burger and fries sat down and started talking to him at the Toucan.

  His mother had tried to call him again over the weekend. He answered the third call, literally didn’t wait for her to talk before he told her to accept him as he was and love him, or to leave him alone…and then hung up on her. He’d set her number, and their home number, as well as his father’s and sister’s numbers, to mute and not alert him to calls or texts.

  She’d left several of each on his phone, each one sounding more desperate and accusing him of being the one with the problem.

  He deleted all of them without response.

  Jackson stroked Noah’s wedding band with his finger. “You don’t take this off. Not unless it’s an emergency, or for something like doing home repairs, or cooking, where you don’t want to mess it up.” His gaze lifted, focused on Noah. “Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Jackson nodded and smiled, squeezing Noah’s hand. “Text me when you leave work. Stop by your place after work, get what you need, and then come straight to my house. I’ll handle renting the truck for this weekend.”

  “Sir?”

  “You’re my husband. Yo
u will live with me. Is that a problem?”

  Terror tried to choke Noah’s voice, but he pushed the words out anyway. “No, Master.”

  “We’ll get you moved in before we tell your family.”

  “Master?”

  “I don’t want them having your new address. Although if they’re not stupid, they can get it through voter registration rolls. They won’t know where you live, at least for a while. If they decide to be adults, then I’ll think about giving them our address. I’m not dealing with that bullshit in our lives, boy. I mean it. What they think of us doesn’t matter. I know it sucks, but we’ll build our own family of friends. And you’ll have my parents. They don’t care I’m gay. They’ll love you.”

  “They’re in Indiana.”

  “I know, but we’ll see them a couple of times a year.” Jackson leaned in and kissed him again. “You need to get back to work, and so do I. I’ll see you tonight when you get home.”

  This felt…surreal. “I love you, Master.”

  Jackson smiled, and Noah knew he’d live his life doing whatever he could to keep him smiling like that, like his soul shone through with pure joy. “I love you, too, baby.”

  One last kiss brushed against his lips, and then Noah climbed out and headed inside.

  He stopped by the vending machines on the first floor for chips, trail mix, and a Mountain Dew. Maybe not the healthiest lunch, but there were still bagels upstairs left over from the morning meetings. He could snag one of those.

  On the elevator ride upstairs, his gaze focused on his wedding band, the plain, shiny strip of gold encircling his finger, and he smiled.

  Who was he kidding?

  It was a collar.

  And it was one he damn sure didn’t want to take off.

  Ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On his way home after work, Jackson stopped and picked up groceries, a small Publix bakery cake with buttercream frosting…and a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

  Trite, but dammit, it was his wedding night.

  He had dinner ready when Noah walked in, steaks and salad and broccoli. He met Noah in the foyer and took everything from him, sitting it off to the side, then pointing at the floor.

  Noah smiled as he dropped to his knees.

  Jackson reached out with his left hand, wiggling his fingers and wanting Noah to hold up his left hand. He did.

  Jackson leaned in and kissed Noah’s ring, squeezing his hand, then held his left hand so Noah could kiss his ring. “New greeting ritual, baby,” Jackson said. “I’ve been telling you I was going to start making you do one. Now, you have it.”

  Noah playfully grinned. “Yes, Master.”

  He stepped forward and pulled Noah’s face against the front of his shorts, where his cock strained for freedom. “That’s for you for later. After dinner and cake.”

  “Cake?” he mumbled against Jackson’s fabric-covered bulge.

  “Yeah, cake. And bubbly. We’re going to do this right.” He helped Noah stand and pulled him in for a kiss. “I want your driver’s license changed by next weekend, Mr. Crowder. We need to start getting each other added to everything, and I don’t want to have to do it twice because of a name change.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “You can just say yes, Sir, if you’d like.”

  “But I like saying Master.” He ground his hips against Jackson’s. “I like that little evil gleam it puts in your eyes every time I do.”

  “Oh, my sweet boy. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Hopefully you’re going to cane my ass tonight before you fuck me and make me come.” He threw in an adorable little pout. “I was told no contact, so I couldn’t ask you if I was allowed to masturbate this weekend.”

  “And did you?”

  “No. I was a good boy. Besides, I missed you too much to be in the mood.”

  Frankly, Jackson hadn’t been in the mood to masturbate without Noah in his bed, either.

  “Good boy. Get naked, and let’s eat before our food gets cold.”

  * * * *

  Dinner was amazing, and Noah wasn’t sure what Jackson had in mind when he cut a quarter of the small, round cake and put it on a plate, but didn’t get them forks. He opened the champagne, and handed the bottle to Noah, along with two glasses.

  “Come on, baby.” He led the way, carrying the cake.

  He’d spread an old sheet over the bed and once they’d each had a few swallows of champagne, Jackson ordered Noah onto his back on the bed.

  “The caning can come later,” Jackson said with a wicked smile. “I want dessert first.”

  He picked up the piece of cake, smeared it all over Noah’s abs, and then took a piece and held it to Noah’s lips. “I like this version of smashing it better.”

  Noah sucked the frosting and cake off Jackson’s fingers. “Me, too.” He grabbed a piece and held it up for Jackson to take from him.

  Five minutes later, they were kissing, both covered in cake, and probably on their way to a damn good sugar high. Noah had never done anything like this before, so wacky, so messy.

  So fun.

  They’d done a pretty decent job of licking the cake and frosting off each other when Jackson reached for a tube of lube and slicked his hard cock. “I know you’ll be hornier than hell after I cane you. You can fuck me then. But for right now, I want to mark my boy inside.”

  They hadn’t gone bareback yet, even though Noah had wanted to. As Jackson’s cock slid into him, Noah wrapped his legs around him and held on tight.

  “Who do you belong to?” Jackson asked.

  Jackson had cake and frosting in his hair, a smear of it along his forehead, and Noah knew he couldn’t look much better.

  “You, Master. I’m your boy.”

  “Damn right you are. You hold it this time. This one’s for me.” It was quick and hard and aching in all the sweet, good ways as Jackson braced his arms on the bed and fucked a load into Noah for the first time.

  From there to the bathroom, where they took their time showering and Jackson was particularly mean, dropping to his knees in front of Noah to edge him, mouthing his cock and balls without getting him off.

  Back to bed, where Jackson gave him five cane strokes that left Noah hard and horny even as he felt the stripes of fire biting into his flesh.

  It hadn’t taken Jackson long to rewire his brain.

  When Noah fucked Jackson, his guy wrapped his arms and legs around Noah, smiling up at him. “Go on and mark it, baby. Belongs to you…Mr. Crowder.”

  He pounded his cock into Jackson’s tight ass, everything else gone from his mind except the sweet sensation of building up to an enormous orgasm, spilling into him, knowing he was the only man who’d ever get to do this to him for the rest of their lives.

  Loving that Jackson was the only man he’d ever been with, or ever would be with.

  As he caught his breath, he rested his forehead against Jackson’s, unable to hold back his tears. “I know this is for life,” Noah whispered, “because I didn’t feel anything like this about Meg. I’ve never felt like this before. This weekend, when I had to think about it, and didn’t have you there with me, it really hit home what you meant. About my parents. I don’t want them to be the ones who get to possibly have the final say about my life. You’re my life. I need you. You, and only you.”

  Jackson held him, gently rocking him in his arms. “I need you, too, baby. You’re the only one I need, the only one I want. Forever.”

  Noah kissed him, savoring it. “Forever.”

  THE END

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