“Oh.” Her abs tighten under my hand as she erupts onto my tongue. I dip my head and plunge my tongue into her pussy, filling my senses with her sweet musk. Her channel contracts, seeking stimulation. I sit back and wipe her wetness from my beard with one hand. My other keeps stroking the sensitive spot right alongside her clit, keeping her convulsing. After a minute, I press my palm gently against her sex, grounding her.
“That was so good,” she sighs. Her cheeks are lovely, flushed pink with pleasure. Pink like her sweet pussy.
I lick her taste off my lips. “That was just the beginning.”
I rise and scoop her up, carrying her swiftly to my bedroom. The moment I cross the threshold into the dark room, I feel the change. Like a distant bell tolling, filling me with a sense of rightness. Frankie belongs here, in my most intimate space. My inner sanctum. Maybe one day, I can let all my walls down and tell her my secrets. Something tells me she’d be the one, the only one, who’d understand.
But now’s not the time for all that. Her dark head is a comfortable weight on my shoulder. She makes not a murmur as I carry her through my room. Perhaps I should stop things and check on her, make sure she’s thinking clearly enough to consent.
But when I set her down on the bed, she reaches for me.
“Frankie?”
“Benedict,” she sighs and tugs me closer. “Make love to me.”
Frankie
I stretch out on the bed, tugging on Benedict's shirt to bring him with me. He obeys willingly, stretching out over me. I spread my legs wide and he settles between them, a delicious weight.
I’ve just come faster with him than I have with any man. My pussy is still fluttering with the aftermath.
But I’m greedy. I want it all.
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” I admit.
“Oh, Frankie, I'm going to make it so good.”
I close my eyes and let him settle over me, his presence like a warm blanket. I don’t need to think any more. Benedict’s got me and I can soar, trusting that, when the time comes, he’ll take me gently back to Earth.
“Just follow my lead.” And he dips his head and kisses me.
I sigh into him. We've always been good together. The attraction was there right from the beginning, and fighting it only made it stronger. He's sipping at my lips, slanting his head to drink down more of me. I wrap my legs around his hips and rock upwards. My sensitive naughty girl bits brush against his hard boy bits through his pants. He sucks in a breath.
“Wicked girl,” he says. “I’m going to take care of you.”
“I know,” I say. “You’re not like the other guys.”
His hands pause, and I realize I’ve said too much. To distract him, I slip my hands under his soft t-shirt and find bare skin. My eyes pop wide. There’s quite a lot of muscle under here.
“What’s this?” I tug up his shirt and stare at the beautiful expanse of eight pack abs. “You’ve been hiding all this… under your suits? It should be a crime.” His muscles flex under my palms and then he catches my wrists, pulling my hands away so he can remove my shirt. I’m so distracted by my short glimpse of his amazing muscles that I let him. Then I realize I’m now naked. Unlike Mr. Hidden Muscles, I do not have a sleek and sexy body, ready to model on a magazine cover of Beautiful People R’ Us.
I go to cover my chest and he catches my wrists again. “No,” he says. “Show me.” Something about his commands makes me want to obey. I drop my hands.
He reaches over and flicks on the bedside lamp. I flinch but the light is gentle and warm. We’re still deep in our silent, cozy cocoon.
“So beautiful.” He traces along the swell of my breast, and I shiver. “You’re sensitive?”
“Very,” I say, but I don’t have to answer. He dips his head and now I’m writhing under him.
He gathers my wrists in a loose grip and pins them above my head.
“Leave them there.” He gives me a stern look. I giggle. He’s being his arrogant self, but instead of annoying me, it makes me wet. He purses his lips. “So naughty.”
I wriggle happily. “I like being naughty with you.”
“Perhaps I should do something about that,” he murmurs cryptically, and kisses me again. He lets loose my wrists and without thinking, I start to draw my arms down.
“Uh-uh.” He pins them again on either side of my head and fixes me with a stern look. “Now stay. Next time there’ll be consequences.”
Hello, Mr. Control. “Next time there'll be consequences,” I parrot back to him in a snooty accent, then gasp as his palm catches the underside of my bottom. I arc up off the bed. “Benedict!”
“Yes, my lady?” He squeezes my ass, palming it and massaging away the sting. The shock recedes, leaving a reciprocal ache in my pussy. “I warned you,” he says in the most deliciously arrogant tone.
“I guess you did.” I purr, arching into his touch. I feel sultry and sexy, a wanton goddess. No wham bam, thank you man here. Benedict has already eaten me out, and now he's being stern. Makes me want to think of new ways to be cheeky. What a fantastically fun game.
“Be good,” he mutters darkly, and lowers his head to nuzzle at my breasts. I grip the bed sheets to keep from grabbing his dark head, and give myself over to the sensations. He licks and nibbles around my nipples, browsing over my bosoms until they're swollen and aching in the best way.
“I've wanted to do this for so long,” he says when I'm panting. He palms my pussy, stimulating me with sure strokes at the same time as he licks around my nipple. He has me writhing in seconds. His touch is so certain, so sure. He already knows his way around my body.
He breaks away before I orgasm, and though I want to groan, I giggle instead.
Benedict arches a brow. “What's so funny?”
“We’re—what's the phrase again? Anticipating our wedding vows,” I say. “Wedding vows that will never happen.” And I crack up. For some reason, it's funny to me.
His face softens as he watches me laugh then he says with mock sternness, “If you’re thinking about that, I'm not doing a good enough job.” And he dips his head and kisses me again.
His tongue strokes the inside of my mouth, teasing mine. My pussy throbs with anticipation of him penetrating me in a different way.
Then he pulls away and murmurs, “So delicious, so delightful, so naughty.”
I want to grab his face and order him to fuck me but I have a feeling that will get me in trouble. Consequences, as he says. So instead I raise my hips again, rocking upwards, silently begging for his cock.
He reaches down and frees himself. His member is warm and hard against my thigh. My pussy clenches again. I'm dripping, ready for him. A flash of warning goes through my mind. Maybe we shouldn't take this step.
It's just sex, I argue against that prim and prudish voice. I deserve to have a little fun. I've been on my own for so long.
Remember what happened last time? The warning voice persists, but I push it away.
You can't trust these rich boys. But Benedict isn't a boy. He's a man.
“I'm on birth control.” I tell him.