Rich Groom (The Dirty Thirty Pledge 1)

Frankie always did respond well to a challenge. “You know that it is.”

The smile on his face is delicious. Full of sheer confidence and sex. He’s gone only for a second before he’s back with a condom in his hand, rolling it on. And he slides home in one smooth thrust, all the way so that I lose my breath. “Fuck,” I say, my body already so sensitive that the ripples of pleasure bring me to the edge again.

“You going to scream for me?” he asks.

I thrust my hips up into him, matching him thrust for thrust. “Make me.”

One thing that I’m remembering about Frankie, is that he takes dares very seriously. And that was a dare. We both know it. Suddenly his rhythm changes from a driving force to a swinging, circular movement that hits my clit every time he moves and my breath leaves me, only coming out in gasps.

In one swift movement, Frankie flips us. He does it so smoothly that we don’t even come apart, and now I’m straddling him, his cock thrusting up into me with that same intensity. I curse loudly, because this feels totally different. Deeper and stronger and now his hands are free to explore other parts of me. He pinches my nipples until they’re so hard that they ache, but every touch streaks down my gut and into my clit and when he reaches down and touches me there, I do scream.

My second orgasm is an explosion. It roars through me like the screams of a crowd and that same rush fills me. Pleasure and adrenaline and God he’s fucking me so hard that I come again. He’s deep inside, and I’m stuffed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so full and I don’t remember this kind of satisfaction before. I don’t remember feeling like this, so connected and pleasured and cherished.

Pleasure overwhelms me again, and I can’t stay upright, collapsing onto Frankie’s chest. But we don’t stop. Not yet. Not now. I think he feels what I feel, because he rolls us again, slowly this time. One of his arms cradles me, holding me close, and the other slips under my knee, keeping me open so he can press deeper while he kisses me.

His lips are on mine, though we’re barely kissing. We’re sharing air, and I’m staring into his eyes. I love him, and I’ve never felt it more. We’re breathing together, and now we’re moving together. Slowly and deliberately, rising to meet each other.

I squeeze down on his cock and he nips at my lips, perfectly in sync. I can feel my own pleasure rising again, and the ragged breaths in Frankie’s chest tell me that he’s close too.

Moving faster now, I have to close my eyes. The way he’s looking at me, the love there, I almost can’t bear it. And my orgasm shudders through me, low and deep, and I’m gasping against his mouth as he devours it. I grab onto him. He’s my anchor, and he groans as he comes with me, thrusting hard and finishing deep. We’re shaking together, frozen in a moment that doesn’t want to end.

It takes us a long time to come back, and when we do, it feels like the air has changed. We’re staring at each other, still connected. And I know that someone has to break the silence, or we’ll just stay here wrapped in each other. “Good job,” I say, and he chuckles.

“Thank you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve gotten better.”

“So have you,” he says, biting my lip. “Let’s spare each other the details of how we both got better.”

“Deal.” I roll out from underneath him and grab his shirt from the floor as I head to the bathroom. His suitcase is sitting open on the floor, and the comically large box of condoms is on top. I pick it up and glance back at him. “Do you always travel with an army’s supply of these?”

Frankie scrubs his hands over his face as he sits up. “I bought them after the festival. Actually, I bought them on the way over to your house.”

“So you really did think that I was just going to let you come in and fuck me?” I laugh.

“No,” he says, “but I hoped that’s where it was going, and I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared.”

“Fair enough.” I toss the box back to the suitcase, but I miss. It hits the edge of the suitcase, tipping over and spilling foil wrappers everywhere. I snicker as I bend to pick them up. “You really were optimistic with the amount you bought.”

“I told you,” he says from behind me, “eight years to make up for.”

I scoop the condoms back into the box, but not everything I grab is a condom. There’s a piece of paper that’s a little crumpled that I accidentally grab off the floor. Must have gotten stuck back there. I smooth it out, and freeze.