Muffin Top

He settled her down on his lap again, positioning her so that there was no missing the thick steel of him against her, so close and yet so far away from where she wanted him most.

Letting out a harsh groan mixed with mumbled words that sounded a lot like “fuck me,” he glided his hands up her back, following the line of her spine. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

And there it was, proof that being naked with Frankie Hartigan was pretty much truth serum, because it wasn’t enough that she wanted him to want her, she wanted him to want her so badly that it was like he’d been waiting years just for her. That it wasn’t just fucking. They were doing something more, something that took feeling good to feeling absolutely amazing—something that mattered. His gaze snapped back to her face, a sharpness in his eyes that made her think he hadn’t missed her meaning.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since you parked that ridiculous car of yours in my garage.”

Tension stretched taut between them as the narrative of just what this night meant began to morph into more. The realization made her pulse hiccup, and that old familiar ribbon of doubt that tied her insides into knots threaded its way through her.

“That must have made for some uncomfortable driving.” Defensive joking? Her? Oh yeah, that was exactly what she was doing.

“You have no idea.” Then he reached up and fisted her hair, pulling her head back and stealing the words from her mouth. “Now I want you to get off me, lay that gorgeous body of yours on the blanket, and spread your legs wide.”

In an act of physical grace she didn’t know she was capable of, she swung herself around and did exactly what he’d said. Following orders wasn’t normally her thing, but the idea of not doing what Frankie asked didn’t even occur to her.

“Fuck me,” he said as he looked at her spread out before him. “I cannot believe I’m lucky enough to be the man who gets to fuck you. If you don’t want that, you better tell me now, because it’s all I can think about.”

Good to know she wasn’t the only one. And while it was kind of awesome to be looked at like she was the Venus de Milo come to life, she wasn’t sure how much more of his studied gaze she could take. She planted her feet on the blanket and lifted her hips, offering herself to him in all but words. He bit out a curse and got on his knees between her legs. He slipped his hands around her ass and lifted her higher before finally lowering his mouth to her aching core.

He didn’t just lick or taste or curl his tongue around her clit. He feasted. He did things with his tongue and lips that she couldn’t describe beyond the fact that it turned her entire body into a supercharged live conductor of sexual need. There was nothing else in the world but Frankie’s hands palming her ass, keeping her in place even when the sensation got to be too much, his mouth doing magical and probably illegal things to her sex, and the building sensation tightening her belly and making her lungs tight. This was it. This was the edge that he was going to push her off of, and she was so happy to go flying into space because she knew without even a slight hint of a doubt that when she did, Frankie would be there to catch her.

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.