Muffin Top (Page 38)

And she did come, her orgasm making her vibrate from her calves all the way up to her core until it built into one final body-arching climax that exploded in Technicolor vibrancy. It washed away all of the ugly that she’d endured during the week and left only a satisfied, blissed-out peace in its wake. It took a million eons, but she eventually surfaced from that post-orgasm coma and cracked her eyelids open. What she saw demolished that sleepy sensation and brought back that hungry, needy feeling in half a heartbeat.

Frankie sat back on his heels at her feet, looking down at her with his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it up and down, the bellend of it slick with pre-come. It was too much for a woman to see and not beg for more.

“Frankie.” That his name crossed her lips sounding more like a plea than a demand didn’t bother her in the least. Not now. Not while he was staring at her like that. “I need you inside me now.”

“I wish I could.” He grimaced. “Trust me, you have no idea how much I wish I could.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“No condom.”

Holy. Shit. On. A. Stick. It would be comical if it wasn’t so heartbreakingly frustrating. She was on edge, reaching for relief. She wasn’t about to let a thin piece of latex keep her from the one person who could give her exactly what she wanted, what she needed. So she decided to break her no condom, no nookie rule.

“I’m on the pill,” she said. “My tests are all good.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, more concern than entreaty in his voice. “I promise, I’ve tested clean for everything.”

Words were her stock in trade, the kind that turned shit situations into public relations dreams, but this wasn’t the occasion for it. This was a moment for action. So she rolled onto her knees, wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, and licked him from root to tip. Then, while maintaining eye contact, she slipped her fingers between her legs and rubbed her clit while sucking him deep in her mouth. Staying like this was a temptation, one she’d give in to another day.

“This is good, but I’m not going to be satisfied until you’re filling me up and making me beg for more of your cock,” she said. “Does that answer your question?”

His only answer was to yank her up from the ground, spin her around, and press his hand between her shoulder blades so she bent over and braced herself by putting her hands on the storage box. She widened her stance, looking over her shoulder at the man who had done this to her. He looked wild, staring at her with an intensity that nearly made her come just on that alone. She lifted her hips, sending him a universal invitation to bury himself balls deep, but he didn’t come to her. Instead, Mr. Patience just stood there like a stubborn giant in the moonlight watching her.

“Frankie,” she said, her voice a desperate whisper. “Please.”

…

Frankie was ready to fall to his knees with relief when she said yes, but his cock had other ideas. It usually did. And now, looking down at her sweet ass, so full and round as she looked over her shoulder at him, something shifted in him. He’d like to say it was a gentlemanly determination to go slow, give her everything she needed. It wasn’t.

What shifted in him was whatever tie he had to civilization. The mine that roared through him at that moment was so strong, so visceral, that he couldn’t even begin to lie to himself about being a modern man. This need, this sense of being a part of her was too real to be anything other than primal.

“Frankie,” she said, the plea in her voice going straight to his balls. “Please.”

Who was he to deny her? As if he could deny her anything.

Pulse pounding, he knelt down, lined up with her wet folds, and slid home for the first time in his life without a condom.

Fucking A. Sensation jolted him down to his toes as he sank deeper and deeper into her welcoming warmth. It was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. Correction. She was like no woman he’d ever known. The instinct and need to pull back out so he could plunge inside her again had a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, but he wasn’t ready to give her up yet. Hell, he wasn’t sure he ever would be.

However, Lucy—being Lucy—took matters into her own hands, pumping herself forward and back against his dick, controlling the pace and the depth as he reveled in the sweet torture of it all.

“You feel so fucking good,” he managed to get out before she stole his breath again with a figure eight move with her hips.

“I could ride this cock all night. I’m gonna come so hard on you.”

Her unrestrained honesty flipped a switch inside him, reminding him this wasn’t just about how his dick was feeling. This was something more, something he couldn’t put into words yet. So he tightened his grip on the soft flesh of her hips, bringing her back hard against him. And when she let out an answering moan of approval, he did it again and again until she was meeting him stroke for stroke, giving him everything. It nearly broke him seeing how beautiful she was at that moment, her lust unfurled like a flag and flown for all to see. Then, when he thought he couldn’t take another moment of delicious friction, she started begging in nonsensical words that conveyed more than any well-worded pleas could.

Closing his eyes, he fought against the climax building at the base of his spine and plunged inside her over and over, leaning forward to change the angle and deepen the stroke, until she let out a scream of pleasure and came on his cock, milking it as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body. It was all he could do to take measure of the moment before the string snipped and he lost the last thread of control, coming inside her so hard he lost himself in the sensation as she called his name.

By the time he’d come back to himself, he and Lucy were somehow sitting on the blanket. He had his back to the metal storage box, and she was sitting between his legs, the back of her head resting against his shoulder as he held her tight.

“I don’t care how old I live to be,” he said, dipping his head down and kissing his way up the long line of her neck. “I’m never forgetting that.”

She laughed, the carefree sound carrying over the water. “Good, because I’d hate to be the only one who remembered.”

“Next time, we’re going to be somewhere that I can keep you all night so I can roll over and wake you up in the best way possible.”

“Next time, huh?” she asked, relaxing against him as they snuggled closer and looked up at the stars. “Isn’t that rather presumptuous of you?”

“Nope.” Not if he had anything to say about it. This was only the first of many times.

She pushed up from resting against him and twisted so they faced each other, a teasing grin curling her lips. “Your ego is even bigger than your—”

“Cock,” he interrupted.

She threw back her head and let out a throaty laugh. “I was going to say car, but yeah, it’s bigger than that, too.”

He answered that bit of impertinence with a kiss, and she settled back against him. They sat in companionable silence, watching the stars twinkle above. Frankie wasn’t a stranger to post-coital cuddling. Usually his brain was spinning out ways for him to leave sooner rather than later. This time, though, he just wanted to let the world go on by. So when Lucy started to make a move to pull away, he tugged her tighter instead and wracked his brain for something to talk about to get her to stay longer.