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Frankie tastes like sunshine, coming home, and the first sip of coffee on a gloomy morning. Not really, but that’s what it feels like as I finally slide my tongue along her seam. If trust had a taste, that’s what Frankie’s sweet center would taste like.
“That’s so good,” she breathes out the words above my head, bracing her hands on the wall behind me.
“That’s the idea, Rocky. To make you feel good.” I dive back in, running the flat of my tongue across her lips, her clit getting a little extra pressure. She’s already wet, and I have to hold back from sliding a finger inside her, just to feel it. Gripping her ass, I pull her into me, grinning to myself when she gasps. My face is level with her pussy in this position and I think I might live here now.
I swirl my tongue through her folds, learning every inch of her. I took my time earlier, mapping my way across her stomach and then her tits. I’ve always prided myself on being thorough, and this is no exception. My tongue sweeps and laps at her pussy, and I listen for her reactions. She hasn’t said much since we crossed into this new territory, but that doesn’t surprise me. My guess is she’s trying not to talk herself out of enjoying this moment.
As long as the sounds she’s making tell me when I’ve hit the right spot, I won’t push her for more. The hitch in her breathing when I’ve spent a few moments working a particular spot just to the left, the low moan that escapes her when I dip my tongue inside her—they’re enough for now.
I particularly enjoy the way her thighs quiver against my forearms when I suck on her clit and the vibration of the wall behind me when her elbows thump against it. I want her, no, I need her to feel good. So good she lets go of her thoughts, stops overthinking everything, and just enjoys the pleasure I’m giving her. That will be my gift to her.
“Is this what you wanted, Frankie?” I blow gently on her before lapping up the desire dripping down her thigh. “To feel good? To be wanted?”
“Yesssss.” Her word turns into a hiss of pleasure, and I grip the back of her thighs as it sends a jolt of need through me. But this isn’t about me, this is about Frankie. Sweet, delicious Frankie, who’s been hiding her strength behind that anxious exterior.
Her breath comes faster as I lick and suck her glorious pussy, little mewling sounds escaping her every time I dip my tongue inside her. I feast on her, my grip on her ass keeping her from escaping, no matter how much her hips twitch and rock in my grasp.
There’s a thump against the wall above my head—I slip a finger inside her and risk a glance. Her head is leaning against the wall, pillowed on her forearms, one hand raised, a fist spasming open and closed. A long, low groan echoes from between her elbows as I work my finger inside her and my tongue goes back to circling her clit.
I speed up as her breath picks up again. Tiny exclamations and whispers of agreement drop from her lips. I don’t expect it, but I can admit to myself what I really want is for her to say my name. I want to know that even now, when she’s incoherent from pleasure, that she knows it’s me giving it to her.
Her walls are slick and hot—my poor cock has been standing at attention ever since that first taste of her. I can imagine how good she would feel, sliding over me, taking me in. But he’s going to have to wait. This isn’t about me, this is about the woman who’s riding my face like she was born to do it. I crook my finger inside her, searching for a spot that’s rougher than the rest.
I find it, and Frankie’s legs buckle, but my grip keeps her from falling. “Julian!” Finally. I keep working that spot, grinning to myself, then flattening my tongue across the deepest part of her. Now she can’t stop—my name interspersed with curses and appeals to something holy. “Fuck. Julian, I’m…” She cuts off with a breath so sharp if I didn’t know better, I’d worry.
Her body tenses for a long, silent moment, but I don’t stop. My finger keeps working her G-spot, and I suck her clit. She shudders and clamps down on my finger, her toes curling beneath my thighs as her back arches and her hips buck. I hold tight while her orgasm ripples through her, sucking every last moment of pleasure I can from this woman.
Frankie stumbles back a step, pulling me away from the wall to keep hold of her. I ease my fingers out of her, taking the opportunity to suck her sweet taste off my finger. “You’re fucking delicious.”
Her hair is messy and wild, that lithe body of hers marked in patches of pink from my scruff. She doesn’t have much in the way of curves, but to me, she’s beautiful. Delicate, but not fragile.
“I…” Her computer lights up, blasting a ringtone, and the dreamy look on her face vanishes. “Shit!” She stumbles back, out of my reach. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Tucking one leg under me, I push to my feet. “What is that? What’s wrong?” I swipe her sweatpants off the floor, turning one leg right side out as she frantically searches for her clothes.
The ringing stops. There’s silence for a moment before a buzzing sounds from behind the screen marking off her bed. “Frankie, take a breath.”
She pauses in her mad dash to pull an oversized hoodie on, orange hair sticking up as her face pops through.
“That’s my family. They always call in the morning on my birthday.”
“So call them back later. Why are you panicking?”
“Because—” She snatches the sweatpants from me, hopping on one leg while she pulls them on. I grab her hips just in time to stop her from toppling over when her foot gets stuck. “Because they always call.”
I can’t help laughing. “Just because they call, doesn’t mean you have to answer.”
Frankie doesn’t laugh with me, though, she just stares at me, panic on her face. Or maybe that’s regret—I can’t tell anymore.
The buzzing of her phone stops and the computer starts up again a moment later. Frankie winces at the sound. She pulls her pants on, and even though she’s transformed into a shapeless blob beneath the hoodie and the sweats, now that I know what her body is like underneath all that fabric, I can’t wait to get my hands on it again. And my mouth. My cock too. He definitely wants a piece of Frankie and is complaining that he hasn’t had a chance to play yet.
“This is why I have to answer. They’ll just keep calling until I do.” Frankie is two steps away from me before I grab her arm, stopping her.
“That’s ridiculous. How do they know you aren’t out to breakfast with your friends?”
Frankie just raises an eyebrow at me. “Because they know that I’ll sleep until two in the afternoon if given the chance. And in twenty-seven years, no one has ever taken me out to breakfast for my birthday. Besides, who would? My non-existent boyfriend?”
“Didn’t I just offer that exact thing? Isn’t that what I am?” Is she seriously about to blow me off right now? After what we just did? “You asked for a fake boyfriend, well, now you have one. Why not take advantage?” I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to get her to acknowledge me, but she hasn’t looked me in the eye since I made her come, and it’s pissing me off.
