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CHAPTER 6
FRANKIE
Sunlight needles my eyelids, prying them open against my will. I feel warm air brush the back of my neck and groan as my mind wakes up completely, instantly replaying exactly what happened last night. My sore girly parts wince as I give a little wiggle. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize the heat blasting against my back is Seth, sleeping with his arm locked across my middle like I’m a flight risk.
His nose is jammed against the nape of my neck, breathing slow and steady, but I can feel the tension in his bicep where it curves under my breasts and in the thigh thrown over mine. The bedsheet is around my waist at best, and his skin is welded to mine in every place that counts.
Last night returns to me in flashes as I remember how he carried me from the door, the whiskey burn of his tongue, and how his cock was buried so deep I thought he would break me in half. My thighs ache, my neck is raw, and there are literal, visible fingerprints on my hip where he pinned me to the wall.
If I died right now, I’d go out with a smile and absolutely no regrets.
I try to roll over, but the arm tightens. “Don’t move,” he mutters, voice gravelly with sleep, but there’s nothing groggy about the way his hand slides up and cups my breast. His thumb skates over my nipple, sending a fresh aftershock through my battered nervous system.
“Don’t order me around,” I manage as he pulls me closer.
He grunts, but I can feel his smile against my neck. “You didn’t complain last night.”
“Your huge cock stole all my brain power.” I twist my head around and finally manage to get a look at his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is in the morning, the sharp lines all blurred a little by sleep, beard stubble softer but no less lethal.
He grins at me, slow and dangerous. Then he presses his hips forward, and I feel his rock-hard cock slip between my ass cheeks.
Holy moly. My brain shuts down completely while my hussy body prepares for round two. Or is it really round three? My pussy pulses with want, even as every muscle in my legs threatens to spasm. He must feel it, because he slides his hand down, palm flat against my belly, and pulls me tight against him. "Let’s see how much brain power you have left.”
“Let’s,” I say, but it comes out as more of a question than a challenge.
His hand slides between my legs, finding me slick and swollen and so ready it’s embarrassing. “Fuck, you’re drenched,” he says, voice thick with satisfaction.
“Shut u—” I forget the whole topic of our conversation as his fingers circle my clit, causing my eyes to roll back in my head.
He moves fast. In one impossible motion, he flips me onto my stomach, drags my legs open, and buries his cock inside me before I can even gasp. It’s rough and perfect and just freaking right. I claw at the sheets, desperate for leverage, but he’s got my wrists pinned to the mattress. His hot breath pants in my ear with each thrust.
He fucks me like a madman. Every thrust slams the headboard against the wall, and the sound it makes—bang, bang, bang—echoes around the room. My wild hair falls like a curtain over my eyes until he gathers it in one fist and pulls my head back, exposing my throat for him to nibble on my ear.
“Seth…” I gasp, but it’s not really a word, just a sound. His other hand leaves my wrists and clamps around my hip, squeezing hard enough to bruise. I don’t care. I want him to mark me. I want to remember this every time I sit down for a week.
“You like that?” he growls, teeth on my shoulder.
“Yes,” I scream into the soft bedding.
He moves faster, the bed shaking under us, my breasts mashed into the pillow, his cock splitting me open with every thrust. My body lights up, nerves sparking from the base of my skull all the way to the tips of my toes. I come hard, grinding back against him, hips bucking so he loses rhythm and nearly slides out of me.
He laughs, a dark sound, and slams back in. This time, he’s relentless, making sure to hold nothing back. I can feel him getting close, balls tightening, cock twitching inside me. He grabs my hair tighter and bites my neck, just hard enough to leave a mark.
When he comes with a low roar, emptying himself deep inside me until it’s dripping down my thigh, he stays like that. His body holds me down, his panting breath rough and uneven.
The only sound in the room is our gasping and the AC kicking on. After a minute, he lets go of my hair and collapses onto the bed, dragging me with him so I’m half on top of his chest.
We don’t say anything for a while. He traces circles on my back, fingers gentle now, almost apologetic.
When I finally have enough breath to talk, I say, “I like how you say good morning.”
He laughs, and it’s not a nice sound. It’s raw, real, and a little desperate. “I’m fucking glad,” he admits. “I plan to do it again as soon as my cock recovers.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I mumble as I snuggle closer to his hot, muscular body.
We doze for an hour in the cratered aftermath, and I’m starting to think my crappy luck has taken a turn. Like maybe we can just wake up every day in a tangle of limbs and sweat, trading smartass comments, rough kisses, and hot, bed-shaking sex.
But before any of that can happen, I have to let Seth in on my little secret.
