Her laugh is soft and breathy. “It’s been an hour.”
I cup her face, angling it so I can kiss every point I want to. “No, it hasn’t,” I mutter. “It’s been years.”
Frankie stills, tipping her head, and bringing a hand to my cheek. Her eyes search mine. “What’s wrong, Ren?” she asks quietly.
I pull back enough to hold her gaze, my thumb sliding over her dimple. “Just something one of the guys said. It made me nervous. Sad.”
“What is it?”
“When you leave,” I whisper. “I’ll miss you.”
Her face softens. “Oh, Ren. I’ll miss you, too. But…” Blinking away, she smooths back my hair. “I mean, assuming we’ll still be together. I’m hoping, that is—”
I kiss her. “Frankie,” I whisper against her lips. “God, I’ll do anything…” There’s the truth, strong and steady as my heart beating inside my chest.
I love you.
I always have. I’ve loved her since the moment I saw her. Somehow, inexplicably, it’s true.
I kiss her again, tangling tongues, holding her hips against mine, showing her how badly I need her. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” I say against her neck, dragging my tongue over her collarbone.
She sighs. “Me, too.” Her hands come to my tie, struggling with the knot. I yank it loose, then attack the buttons of my shirt. Frankie grabs my buckle, tugging it so hard, she loses her balance and nearly bumps into the stove. I catch her by the elbow and wrap an arm around her to keep her steady.
“Shit,” she mutters, staring at the meal she was cooking.
I reach past her, flicking off burners. “Later.”
She nods, leaning up, kissing me, arms around my neck. I scoop her up and wrap her legs around my waist. “Does that hurt?” I ask against her mouth.
“No,” she whispers, dropping her head, stretching her neck for me to kiss.
I groan when she reaches between us and palms me over my suit pants. “You’re done?” I ask.
She nods furiously. “Today. Thank God.”
Setting her on the kitchen counter, I press her back, then kiss my way down her stomach. I shuck her shorts, dragging them off of her legs and tossing them aside.
“What are you—Oh, God,” she gasps, her arms dropping softly onto the cold granite.
“You said come home hungry.” I kiss her stomach, swirl my tongue lower and lower. “And I’m more than happy to follow orders.”
My hands part her, as finally, finally I see her close, breathe her in. Velvet soft skin, dark curls that I run my fingers through. Exploring the delicate skin of her stomach, I reach further and cup her breast. “Look at you. Perfect.”
She arches into my touch as I tease her nipple and press slow, wet open-mouthed kisses on the inside of her thigh. “Ren, you don’t have to—”
“Don’t bother finishing that sentence, Frankie. I’ll die if I don’t do this.”
She laughs breathily. “So dramatic—” A gasp leaps out of her as I bend and sweep my tongue where she’s warm and wet, decadently soft. My thumb teases her clit with faint, featherlight touches, while I taste her and spear her with my tongue.
Faint, steady cries leave her. Her fingers delve into my hair, but there’s no tug, no push, no direction. She’s hesitating.
“Are you holding back on me, Francesca?”
Breath rushes out of her. “N-no.”
“You’re taking what you want?”
She nods, but it’s slow. Tentative.
I yank her hips to the edge of the counter, cupping her bottom as I drop to my knees and swing each of her legs over my shoulders. “No, you’re not.”
Frankie cries out, a broken sob as I lock my mouth over her and take her with my tongue. One finger curled deep inside her, where she’s softer, tender, so impossibly wet. Then two. I want her ready. I don’t want it to hurt when I’m inside her. I only want pleasure for Frankie, no more pain. No more than she already has in her life.
She’s sweet as honey, warm silk. I nuzzle, nibble, and finally lower my lips to her tiny, swollen clit, and gently suck—
“Yes!” she slaps the counter, canting her hips up into my face.
I pull back long enough to bite her thigh tenderly, chasing it with a kiss. “Tell me what you want.”
“I—” She cries out again as I flick her clit with my finger. “I want it harder. Rough.”
“You want to fuck my face.”
“Jesus,” she moans. “You would be the unexpected king of dirty talk.”
“Tell me.”
“I want to fuck your face!” she yells.
Grinning up at her, I lower my mouth, so my breath whispers over where she’s glistening wet and flushed. “Then do it.”
When I tongue her again, hold her close, she grinds up, wild, reckless, riding my mouth, fisting my hair, guiding me until she explodes on a hoarse scream.
Her thighs tighten around my shoulders. She cries out again, and this time a rough sob follows. Soft, pulsing waves against my lips. A rush of sweet release hits my tongue and I groan, palming myself reflexively. I almost come from just tasting her.
She’s panting, wracked with shivers as I stand, then sweep her into my arms and stroll down the hallway. Once in the bedroom, I slowly lower her down my body, clenching my teeth when she slides against my groin.
Frankie stares up at me, her hands resting on my chest. Time slows, the only sounds the distant roar of the ocean, the steady rhythm of our breaths. Carefully, she runs her fingers beneath my suit jacket and slips it off. Tugging it off my arms, she tosses it on the nearby chair. I stare at her as I yank off my tie and make quick work of the rest of my buttons. Frankie rushes me, shoving off the fabric, tugging at my undershirt.
When I’m shirtless, she presses a hot kiss to my chest, scrapes her teeth over my nipple.
“God.” I fist her hair, holding her close.
Frankie pushes away and I tackle her shirt, dragging it over her head. A moan tears out of my chest as I see her. So beautiful. More breathtaking than I could have ever imagined. I stare down at her as my heart pounds. Soft breasts, her nipples taut. Long muscles, a maddening slope to her hips. Golden skin. I run my hands up and down her waist and sigh. She’s so soft.
“You’re beautiful, Frankie. So impossibly beautiful.”
She smiles and presses up on tiptoes, giving me a long, slow kiss. “Take off your clothes,” she whispers, her hand dropping to my buckle again. “I want to see you.”
I shuck my pants and boxer briefs, sweep her up again and carry her to the bed. After laying her down, carefully, I stand over her.
She bites her lip as her eyes trail my body. “Søren. You are magnificent.”
Her thighs rub together as she stares at me. I pull her legs apart and fist myself, a long tug of my cock that draws a rough groan from me as I stare at her. A fierce, primal force drives me to touch myself while I look at the most intimate part of her.
“This is what you do to me, Frankie. You’ve done it for years. Made me so hard, I ache.”
“Well, that sounds fair,” she says dazedly. She stares at my length as I pump it, her eyes wide, lips parted. “Seeing as I’ve been nothing but despicably wet around you for too damn long. Do you know how uncomfortable drenched panties are, Ren?”