Page 112 of Christmas in Coconut Creek

I clamped my mouth shut. I wanted it, wanted to give him that part of me that I hadn’t given anyone else. I wanted all these intimate moments to be attached to a man I felt unmistakably connected to. I wasn’t going to tell him no.

A low groan rumbled out of him as he continued to fuck me steadily. My clit ached, and I reached down and circled it with my own practiced fingers.

“Say yes.”

“Yes,” I cried out.

The blunt tip of his thumb breached me and a sting of pleasure followed. How something so intrusive felt so godly was lost on me. My lips shaped into an oval, my eyes closed.

“You okay?” Frankie was huffing harder than me. The still night held the sound of bubbling water, snapping hips, and terse, shallow breathing.

“Good,” I managed, pushing my hips toward him. “I can take it.”

“I know you can.” He pressed his finger in farther and a spark of heat licked up my spine. I dropped my face into my elbow and bit down on my forearm as he filled me in two places at once, dominating me in a way I was more than happy to be.

“So good,” Frankie mumbled as he quickened his pace, pounding into me. The pressure was addictive, my core throbbed around him, and my clit tingled readily. I was overtaken with sensation, as if I could feel every last vein and ridge of his cock touching me from within, riding me to a point of no return. My lower belly tightened on cue, the corners of my vision blurring.

Frankie’s finger wriggled inside my ass and I saw stars.

“I can tell when you’re there, O. Is this about to make you come?”

I moaned a pathetic confirmation, nodding my forehead up and down against my forearm.

“You like being all filled up like this. You love it.”

God, he knows everything.

“I plug this tight little hole up, and your pussy starts milking me, Ophelia. You can’t hide shit from me when I’m inside you. I know exactly what this cunt wants.”

“Fuck,” I keened. My legs started shaking and I played rapidly with the swollen nerves at my peak. Frankie’s strokes were debilitating. His breath fanned in and out over my back, hoarse grunting complimenting my shriller, weaker whines of ruin.

One of Frankie’s hands wrapped around me, putting perfect pressure on the expanse of skin over my middle and I broke, like throwing a rock through a wall of glass.

“Oh, Godddddd.”My nostrils flared, vision glitching momentarily as I was shot into a long, hard release.

Before I had time to relax my arms were wedged behind me, wrists bound to my lower back by his strong palm. Frankie continued to fuck me harshly, pulling his thumb from inside me and lifting me so my back met his chest and I was completely at his mercy. My nipples met cool, crisp air and my teeth sunk into my bottom lip.

“You just came on me raw, O. I felt every fucking drop of it,” he mumbled against my ear. “Pretty little orgasm. Everything you do is so beautiful it makes me crazy.”

He was owning every inch of my body, manipulating my limbs, taking what he needed to reach that delicious, sought-after peak he was on the very edge of. I could sense it in his longer strokes, the air catching in his throat in gusts with his mouth against my hairline. His free forearm came across my chest and bracketed me to his body, taking away my ability to move except for my hips as I bounced them into his lap to encourage that well-earned end.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned.

“Please,” I begged. “Please, please.”

He squeezed me so hard it felt like I very well may be crushed to death with a beautiful and shockingly well-endowed man buried to his fucking nuts inside me. But a second later Frankie unsheathed himself so violently I gasped out of sheer, emptying loss.

Hot ropes of his spend splashed across my ass and lower back, a strained roar rumbling along with them. I let my head fall back and rest against his shoulder as his warm breath fanned across my cheek, evening out just enough for him to tilt my jaw toward his lips and claim my mouth in a satisfied kiss. One that felt gratified, appreciative. Like every time I let him have me, he needed me to know it meant something.

“I can’t believe we just did that outside,” I said.

Frankie dropped down into the hot tub gracelessly, running a hand over his face as I slunk down next to him. My bikini floated in front of us like a sad sailboat.

“I can’t believe you just let me put my thumb in your ass.”

32

We’dlivedoffsugarcookies and leftover ham sandwiches, popping the corks off wine bottles in our pajamas, since Christmas Eve.

---