Page 51 of Gravity of Love
“When did you get this?” she breathed.
“The day I graduated from med school.”
Her eyes searched his. “Why?”
“Do you remember where I told you the heart is?”
“What?”
“When we were dancing at JT’s, I told you where the heart is.”
He could see her trying to remember what he’d said.
Her eyes lit up as the memory came back to her. “You said it’s in the middle of your chest.”
He nodded, and the tiniest flicker of understanding crossed her face as she put together the meaning.
Frankie traced the outline with her fingertip, then withdrew her hand. She leaned forward, and he watched as her full lips covered the tattoo over his heart. The press of her kiss was electric—his breath hitched, and he nearly lost it when the silky strands of her strawberry blonde hair fell over her shoulder and fluttered across the head of his cock, which was straining at full attention.
His hands flattened to his thighs as he white-knuckled his way through not touching her. He was so hard it was borderline painful. Liam forced himself to keep his hands to himself, to let her set the pace, and to not steal back control the way he always did. If he lost it now, he was afraid it would all go too fast and the moment between them would disappear. It was too precious and rare to risk ruining.
Frankie dragged her lips slowly, sensually, along the taut tatted skin of his sternum, as if she were memorizing the taste of him. She kissed the tattoo lightly, pressing her tongue to the ink before lifting her eyes to meet his. Warmth and mischief sparkled in those huge brown eyes, and her lips quirked at the sides, as if she knew a secret he wasn’t privy to.
Moving so naturally, in what might have been the most graceful thing Liam had ever seen, she lowered down to her knees. He watched as she placed one hand on his thigh for balance, and with the other she curled her delicate fingersaround his girth. He inhaled a sharp intake of breath as his dick swelled and his stomach clenched in need. She didn’t hesitate. Her grip tightened as she gazed up at him and her tongue flicked across his tip seductively.
Liam groaned, and he felt it reverberate in his chest.
Frankie grinned and did it again, slower this time, dragging the flat of her tongue along the underside of his shaft, then swirling around his crown. Liam leaned back on the bed, his hands resting behind him as he tilted his head back, fighting the urge to throw her over his shoulder like a caveman. Instead, he focused on the heat, the pressure, and the impossibility of what was happening.
He tried to keep it together, to think of anything else, but the only thing in his mind was her—Frankie, on her knees, doing what he’d imagined, fantasized about, and had wet dreams of her doing hundreds if not thousands of times over the past ten years.
Just when he thought he had a handle on himself, she wrapped her lips around his engorged tip and sucked it gently. Liam bit down on the inside of his cheek in an effort not to come right then and there. She drew back, then suckled again, a little deeper this time. She repeated the action, each time taking him deeper, until he could feel himself hitting the back of her throat and she was choking on him. Frankie’s hand followed her mouth, sliding up and down, twisting at just the right moments, and every time he thought he’d found a plateau, she found a way to push him higher, causing his balls to tighten with release.
When she let him slip from her mouth, she dragged her lips along the side of his shaft, then pressed a kiss just below the crown. She kissed him again, then again, worshipping every inch of him, and then she suddenly changed gears—her mouth was open, warm and wet and velvet, enveloping him deeply, and he nearly lost it right then, and he felt his cock vibrate. Liam’s eyesfluttered shut. He heard the soft, humming sound as she worked him, and every sense he had was focused on the pleasure she was giving him. His hands gripped the comforter behind him for dear life. The mattress creaked as he shifted, trying to ground himself.
Frankie’s rhythm was relentless, and she didn’t let up—her mouth tight and perfect, her hand stroking in tandem, her vocal cords quivering, her nails digging just slightly into his thigh with every downward motion. He was throbbing, every nerve ending lit up, and something inside of him snapped.
Not being able to take it anymore, he reached down, grabbed her by the arms, and flipped her onto the mattress. Once she was on her back, he pinned her arms above her head and climbed on top of her. She was catching her breath as she looked up at him, her chest heaving, and her mouth curled in a smile, with her lips swollen, and her hair a wild halo around her face. Her legs widened in invitation as he settled between them, his rock-hard erection pressing against her wet core. He felt himself sliding along her lips as her hips rocked in need.
As he looked down at her, two words played over and over in his mind. “You’re mine.”
He hadn’t meant to say them out loud, but from the way her sex clenched against his shaft, he was glad he had.
Frankie was living out so many fantasies. She’d always wanted to know what Liam looked like naked. What he tasted like. What the weight of his body felt like on top of her. What it was like to be trapped beneath him.
Part of her was terrified this was a dream and someone was going to wake her up. But from the way her clit was swelling asshe rubbed it against his shaft, she knew it wasn’t. Even dreams didn’t feel this good. She wouldn’t be this close to coming if this was a dream. She was a little bit embarrassed. The last time they were together, she’d come with her clothes on, at least this time, they were both naked. That was progress.
It wasn’t her fault she was this close to the edge. Having Liam in her mouth had brought her to the brink, then him throwing her on the bed, pinning her hands above her head, and feeling his very large, hard, throbbing length rubbing against her sex was sensory overload. And then hearing him saying she was his, claiming her, what was a girl to do but come?
“Fuck, you feel good,” she whimpered as her body built closer and closer to her release.
She bit down on her lip and ground even harder. Each time she rolled her hips, sliding her feminine folds up his steel rod at just the right angle to hit her pleasure spot, lighting up the knot of nerves at the top of her slit. She repeated the motion over and over, shamelessly seeking her climax.
Liam’s head moved down, pausing just long enough for Frankie to anticipate the sensation of his kiss before his breath fanned at the base of her neck. His tongue flicked at the hollow spot above her collarbone, then licked a wet trail down her chest, luxuriating in the dips and curves as if he had all the time in the world. She arched into him, her nipples flushed and tight with need. He ignored them, instead circling the undersides with his tongue, teasing her until she made a noise that was part sigh and part frustration.
Only then did he close his mouth over one pebbled peak, sucking gently at first, then increasing the pressure. The suction was just shy of pain, in perfect counterpoint to the way he rolled the other bud between his thumb and forefinger with the hand not holding her arms captive. Frankie’s world went white at the edges, her vision narrowing to the hot, wet pressure of his mouthand the possessive grip of his hands on her wrists, which stayed held in place above her head.
When he grazed her nipple with his teeth, she gasped so loudly the sound ricocheted off the walls of the bedroom. He must have liked her response because he did again, harder, this time enough to make her jerk, and she felt her whole body light up like it was made of nothing but exposed nerve endings and the desire to crash over the edge.
