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“Fuck yourself on me, Frankie,” he ordered. “Do what feels good.”
I placed two trembling fingers on my clit as I bounced up on and down experimentally. It felt good—really good. I had never done it quite like this before. I felt exposed and wild with Clive wrenching my legs apart even as he was buried inside of me, but still secure with the hot press of his broad chest at my back.
The buzzing purple vibrator felt incredible on my nipples, but that wasn’t what it was for. I growled in frustration and batted Clive’s hand downward toward my clit. He chuckled and gently caressed my nub with the little wand.
“Oh, God, that’s it,” I gasped.
I leaned back into Clive, desperate for even more of whatever he would give me. He wound a hand around one hip, helping me stay balanced as I fucked up and down on his cock. I felt like I was going to blast apart, and wound an arm behind me, around Clive’s neck—anything to keep me in place as the ruthless sensations tore me to pieces. And he seemed to feel it too, groaning harshly as he buried his lips against my throat, licking and kissing and gently biting every inch of skin he could reach as he swirled the vibrator over my throbbing clit.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he said in a ragged whisper as he bucked up inside me, making me cry out at the force of his thrust. “Using my cock to make yourself feel good—you fucking own me, Francesca.” Dirty words, but oddly tender, rich with deeper, softer meaning.
“I’m about to come,” I moaned deliriously. My thighs burned with exertion, but I needed something else. “Fuck me, Clive. As hard and deep as you can get.”
The vibrator abruptly dropped away from my clit and he wrapped his hands around my waist, lifting me off his straining cock to dump me on my back. He threw a leg over his shoulder, opening me up wide. His cock, already glossy with my moisture, drove to the hilt, and the long reach inside my body pushed a frantic shriek of pleasure out of my already taxed body.
He reached down and slapped the top of my pussy as he fucked me like a beast—a sharp contrast to the insistent hum of the vibrator, and it was just what I needed to orgasm. I detonated around his wildly thrusting dick, just moments before he followed me into oblivion with a harsh, rumbling groan. Slick with sweat, we clung together and shook, a tangle of arms and legs and frantic kisses.
“Surprise,” Clive said weakly as my legs slid away from his waist, dropping limply to the comforter. He pulled out of me and we both hissed, our nerve endings still buzzing from the riot of shared pleasure, before he dropped to the mattress besides me and pulled me close.
I chuckled, then leaned in and kissed his damp chest, right over a tattoo of blooming roses. “It was a good surprise, Clive. A great one.”
On the other side of the closed bedroom door, Pete meowed, indignant about his unexpected eviction from my bed. Clive rolled his eyes and just pulled me in closer, dropping a kiss to my neck.
“Does he sleep in here with us?” he asked, the scratch of his beard against my skin making me shiver. “I’ve never had a cat. I don’t know if I want spectators for all the dirty, filthy things I want to do to you.”
“Usually I’d say yes, he definitely sleeps in here with us.” I wound my arms around Clive’s neck and pulled him on top of me again, sighing happily as I drew his mouth down to my lips. “But for tonight, I can absolutely make an exception.”
I don’t know who’d said it—maybe it was just conventional wisdom—but the idea that an older man couldn’t wear a younger woman out? It was complete and total bullshit.
Clive was at me like a starving man for half the night. He couldn’t get enough of me, he said—of my taste, of the way my pussy clasped around his hard dick, of the press of my soft body against his hard one. And I felt the same, like I was dying of thirst and finally getting a drink of cool, long needed water. I counted his tattoos, kissed every carved muscle, and massaged his hard glutes as he fed his dick into my wanting mouth with a low, unraveling groan of ecstasy.
He gave me the kind of joyful shared pleasure that I always wanted with someone, but never found until Clive—two people touching and tasting and enjoying, with no inhibitions or shame. Without holding anything back.
We finally slept, tangled in each other’s arms, way later than I usually went to bed.
Always a morning person, I woke up first. I bolted out of bed early almost every day, no matter how little I slept the night before. I thought Clive might doze a little while longer, exhausted from his flight and staying up all night fucking me, but he surprised me, waking just a few minutes later.
“C’mere,” he said, his voice a sleepy, sexy rasp.
He hauled me into his arms and nuzzled my neck, dropping ticklish kisses as he rubbed his beard against my sensitive skin. I shrieked and giggled and tried to roll away, but he just pulled me closer, twining his limbs around me to keep me close.
I settled my cheek against his solid chest, breathing him in as my fingertips sketched along a tattoo that swirled over the slabbed muscle of his shoulder. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“I missed you so much,” he said huskily. “Frankie, I—"
“Shit,” I hissed as I glanced over at my alarm clock. I rolled to my feet and hustled into the master bathroom. “I have to get ready,” I said over my shoulder. “I’m meeting my grandma for breakfast at her assisted living facility and they eat before the sun fucking rises over there.”
Clive pushed himself upright, smiling sleepily as he caressed my naked body with his eyes, tempting me to dive back beneath the covers with him. “Will you be back later?”
I paused, toothbrush halfway to my mouth, and smiled warmly. “Yeah, I think we could work something out. You can hang out here in the meantime, if you want.”
“Nah.” He planted his feet on the floor and rose to his full height before striding bare-assed naked into the bathroom to drop a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll go find some breakfast somewhere, maybe see Marcie. And I should head over to my building anyway and have a look around the place.”
I nodded. “Sounds good,” I said around my buzzing electric toothbrush.
Clive leaned into the shower and switched on the spray, hanging back as the water slowly heated. “What’s your grandma like?”
I held my curly hair back as I spat my toothpaste into the sink. “My grandma?” I repeated, thinking about how to describe Nana. Wild? Different? “Nana is herself,” I finally said. “She does her own thing all the time, and if she thinks something is bullshit, she lets you know.”
He chuckled and winked at me. “Sounds like someone I know.” He stepped into the shower and then turned to me, reaching out a hand, his gaze caressing my naked body. “Five extra minutes?”
I paused, because the man was just so damn irresistible. “Just five?”
His answering mischievous smile was so handsome that I felt my heart throb in my chest, and I wondered how I would handle it when he had to go back to Minneapolis, and I was alone again.
“I’ll wash your back,” he coaxed. “And anything else that needs…refreshing.”
“Just five minutes,” I said, not really meaning it.
And I took his hand and together, we stepped into the billowing steam.
