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“This couch would get uncomfortable.” I chuckled, curling my fingers in her hair. “I bought it for the aesthetic; not comfort.”
“Then we can go someplace else,” she said simply, her fingertips brushing the line of my bra. “Somewhere cozy and comfy.”
I giggled into her lips. “Are you asking me to take you to bed, Frankie?” I whispered, enjoying the little tremble that skittered through her body. “Because my bed is quite possibly the comfiest place on this planet.”
Briefly, traitorously, my mind wondered if her thighs might be the comfiest spot, but I shoved the thoughts aside, my cheeks already warm.
“I didn’t know I had to spell it out,” she teased, her tongue snaking out to trace the space between my parted lips. My thoughts turned liquid for a minute.
“Then let’s go.”
I pulled her to her feet, swooping down to kiss her again as I awkwardly walked us backward toward the staircase on the far left.
“Do you intend to lead me there blind?”
“I don’t feel like stopping right now,” I murmured, the back of my left heel hooking the first step and almost sending me sprawling. “I know the layout of my own house.”
As it turned out, I may not have been in the best frame of mind. My feet repeatedly snagged on the glass steps and Frankie’s hold tightened with each stumble. We were a mess of giggles and whispers, our feet shuffling close together until finally, finally, my hand found the familiar handle of my bedroom door.
I didn’t bother with the light switch. I didn’t care to open my eyes just then, too wrapped up in the soft push and pull of her lips on mine. We shuffled until the backs of my knees hit the bed.
I sat down, pulling her down with me, enjoying the warm weight of her body on top of mine.
“Better?” I asked, though it was all my muddled mind could articulate in the moment. With my upper back against the plush headboard, I sprawled out underneath her.
She sighed contently, her body slowly relaxing into mine as she did. “Getting there.” She groaned. Her fingertips trailed down the sides of my waist, her touch hot even through the silk of my shirt. “Could be a little better.”
“How so?”
As if in answer, her fingers slipped under the soft fabric, white-hot against my skin.
“If you were wearing less,” she purred, and the words sent heat pooling low in my gut, my thighs tensing with a sudden need.
“Well,” I gasped, my back arching a little at the brush of her lips along my neck, “I aim to please.”
She giggled softly, the sound lethal in its own way.
It was its own agony, watching her pull back and slowly undo the buttons of my shirt. She kissed each small patch of skin she undressed, her breath hot and her fingers lazy.
She started at the base of my throat, and kissed a slow trail down between my breasts, over my sternum, and down to my navel. She left my shirt open, the fabric splayed on either side of my body, and turned her attention to my bra.
Her index finger toyed with the hook that held my bra together, a satisfied hum slipping through her nose.
“Thank God for these bras,” she murmured, effortlessly unhooking my bra and freeing my breasts. A puff of relief zipped through me at the sudden lack of tension, like I could breathe easier.
Only for my breath to punch out of my lungs when Frankie bent down and pulled one of my nipples into her mouth.
“Fucking hell, Frankie,” I gasped, my muscles going loose with the soft, wet heat of her mouth on me. She hummed in response, one of her hands drifting to my other breast.
She wedged a knee between my thighs and pressed hard enough against my clit that I bucked into the friction.
And somewhere in the lust-fueled haze, a small, logical part of my brain recalled the exhaustion in her eyes.
“Frankie, hold on,” I said weakly, my fingers curling around her arm.
She pulled away, sitting back on her haunches and looking at me. “Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes a little wild.
“Fine,” I said, my laugh breathless. “But you’ve been on your feet all day; you should get some rest.”
