Page 89 of Winning You
Frankie was being careful with him, which was necessary but annoying. Every time he moved his jaw, it aggravated the fracture in his cheek. Luckily, without his prosthetics, there was virtually no movement in his eye socket, so that was the only thing sitting at a dull throb instead of searing pain.
“Did I hurt you, princess?”
“No. The bruise is hurting me. But I’m ignoring it. I want more kisses.”
“I can do that.” Frankie’s lips attached to his neck, suckling at his pulse, gently at first, then harder with teeth. He kissed upward, nipping at Lucas’s earlobe, then ghosting his lips over Lucas’s jaw until he finally—finally—reached his mouth.
“More,” Lucas said as he tried to deepen the kiss in spite of the pain.
Frankie’s strong but careful hands turned Lucas to face him, the bed dipping with their combined weight. “Easy, princess. Let me do this.”
“I want more,” Lucas begged.
“You will have everything you want, but I can’t hurt you. So let me do this right. Trust me?”
“I trust you,” Lucas said. He went pliant, falling backward against the pillows as he braced himself for touch. He hadn’tmelted down after he got home, but he’d been able to rock and rock until the world stopped feeling like it was closing in on him.
The pressure had been relieved, so he was able to take it now—the unexpected touches, the light pressure of fingers over his jawline as his head was carefully maneuvered the way Frankie wanted him.
And then he was kissed again.
Frankie’s lips were thick and warm and a little wet as they brushed over his own, powerful in their own way as they urged Lucas’s to open and let him in. He followed those wordless touch commands and swallowed down Frankie’s groan of satisfaction.
“How long do we have?” Lucas asked as they took a pause for air.
“As long as we want.” Frankie’s fingers danced lower, over his pecs, then to his shirt. He rucked it up and immediately pinched his left nipple.
“Dinner,” Lucas gasped, arching into the touch.
“An hour and a half. Plenty of time for me to spoil you naked and rotten and get you clean before I mess you up again.”
Lucas shuddered. How had he gone from untouched virgin to wanton whore in the span of a few weeks? How had Frankie unlocked and awakened things in Lucas he hadn’t even realized he had buried in him?
He didn’t really want answers to those questions. What he wanted was to let himself go under Frankie’s gentle, loving care.
“Make me come,” Lucas said.
Frankie chuckled softly. “I planned on it, princess. Spread your legs for me.”
Lucas did, and Frankie moved away from him. The only touch remaining were his hands on his waistband. They tugged until his pants came free, and he heard them hit the floor with adull thud. Frankie traced a touch up his calves, then the insides of his thighs as he spread Lucas’s legs further apart.
He hitched one knee up, pushing it toward Lucas’s chin. “Hold there. Just like that. Fuck, you are perfect,” he praised when Lucas did.
Heat rushed from his sternum to his chin. “Am I?”
“I wish I spoke more languages so I could find more words,” Frankie told him. “I might deserve being called a poet then.”
“You have no idea how good you already are,” Lucas said, the words ending on a gasp because Frankie pressed wet fingers to his hole and began to pump. Lucas hadn’t heard him open the lube, so it must have been spit, and something about the raw realness of that was so wildly erotic, he felt his dick pulse, precome dribbling from his tip.
“Fuck, I love looking at you like this,” Frankie told him. “Spread out for me, warm here.” He touched his sternum.
“You can see heat?” That was a wild thought. Lucas had never realized that was possible.
“It’s flushed pink, like someone put watercolor paint on their hands and spread it all over your chest.” He traced the shape of where Lucas felt himself blushing. “But I can see a lot about you.”
“Like what?”
“The way your lips are parted when you breathe because the pleasure is intense. The way you arch your back and dig your hands into the sheets, and the way your toes curl when I touch you here.” He pulsed his fingers against his ass again.
