Page 117 of Say You Will

I carry her to the bed and lay her out with her hair spread in a light brown and caramel swirl on the pillow. “I’m taking care of you.”

I let my gaze trail down her body, over the shape of her, the limbs that give the impression of length despite her average height. Over the mounds of her breasts and little brown nipples. I continue my perusal over the gentle slope of her abdomen and navel. Hooking my hands into her waistband, I drag the pajama bottoms and panties off her body. “I want you to lie back and relax”—I kiss her knee—“and allow me the great honor of servicing you.”

Her eyes go wide, then she shakes her head. “I can’t do that.”

I trail kisses up her leg toward her center, shifting my body until I’m between her thighs. “Why not?”

“Because it’s selfish ...” I think she intended to sound outraged, but I give my first sucking kiss of her clitoris halfway through her sentence, and she trails off on a blissful sigh.

“It’s not selfish to give me what I want.” I lift my head to make eye contact. “Let me take care of you.”

“But I should—”

“You should lie there and tell me what feels good.” I swirl my thumb across her clit and ease a finger inside her silky heat.

“Ohhhh.”

“If you’d rather I hold you instead of sex, you’ll tell me. If I do something that hurts you, you’ll tell me. If I make you feel good ... You. Will. Tell me.”

“Will I?” she breathes.

I give her my sternest scowl. “You will.”

“You—” She gasps in pleasure, as I kiss her clit once more and ease another finger inside. “Really like control.”

“I don’t like control, love. I need it.”

“That feels . . . I can’t . . . talk when you . . . Oh.”

Sliding my palm up her thigh in a long, sweeping motion, I come to rest on her hip, my grip firm, but not rough, bracing her as I work her pussy with my mouth.

“That feels amazing. So . . .”

I take my time pushing her up until she tips over that edge. When she orgasms, she cries out, her thighs clamping against my ears.

Franki is delicious. Warm, and wet, and ready. I kiss her shoulder and brace myself over her, fitting myself between her thighs. Then I shackle both of her wrists in one of my hands. Not tightly. She can be hurt too easily for that. Just enough for her to feel me holding her in place.

She gasps as my cock bumps and glides through her wetness, grazing her clit. I dip my head to tongue one tight nipple.

“Ohh.”

I speak quietly near her ear. “Do you want it hard and fast? Or do you want it sweet and slow?”

She squirms and thrusts up against me, attempting to catch me and draw me inside, as she makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and an incoherent sob.

I smile against her skin. “Use your words.”

“I want whatever you want.”

I want her out of her head with pleasure, whatever it takes to get her there.

“Then I’ll give you both.” Brushing a kiss over her eyelids, I ease inside. Her snug heat envelops my cock, squeezing and flexing. We both groan in pleasure.

Slowly, I slide nearly all the way out, then just as gently, push inside. I bottom out and watch her face and body language. All I read from Franki is bliss. I’m gentle. Slow. Pacing us. Occasionally, kissing her. More often, watching her. I’ll pick up the pace later. Regardless, I have to stay cognizant of her reactions. Always careful I won’t exacerbate her RA or causeher pain. Her SI joint dislocates easily, so I’m measured in my responses.

I can’t hold her wrists, keep the majority of my weight off her, and stimulate her clit at the same time this way. I need to consider changing positions slightly so I can reach her, but also maintain her comfort. I should—

She attempts to pull her hands from my grip, so I release her.

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