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“I allowed my emotions to get the better of me,” he said, kneeling in front of me and kissing my belly. “I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be,” I whispered above him, running my fingers through his hair.
“No?” he asked, pained.
“Not for the reasons you’re sorry for. Marks don’t mean you’ve hurt me, Franky. I’ve always bruised easily. I love it when your lips are on me, when your teeth sink into me, and when your hands are too firm,” I said. “Rough sex is my favorite. Rough sex with you is my favorite. And I more than returned the favor.”
“That you did,” he said, smiling against my ribcage.
“Take off your clothes,” I said.
“You want to see your handiwork?”
“All of it.”
Franky dipped a finger into the water to check the temperature, then turned the valve off before getting rid of his clothes. He was a thing of fucking beauty surrounded by candlelight. His dark edges sharper, the hard planes of his body menacing.
I grazed my fingers over the vicious claw marks already scabbing over on his chest, then lower to the ones on his burly thighs. “They’re sexy,” I said, his cock swaying slightly as it thickened.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, peeling my fingers off his cock. “This is about you.”
“But it’s your birthday,” I complained, gawking at the network of veins below his succulent tip.
“Which means we get to do whatever I want.” On his knees again, he unbuttoned my jeans and peeled them down, stopping as my tight, lace briefs came into view. “What’s this?” he asked, hauling my pants farther down.
“A birthday gift,” I said as he skimmed his nose up and down the front pouch holding my dick hostage.
“I love lace,” he said, now mouthing my caged bulge. I’d learned that tidbit of information from an interview Selene had done where she’d jokingly mentioned that her penchant for wearing the delicate fabric was due to her husband’s appreciation for it. She’d sported a fitted lace jumpsuit on the cover of the independent magazine.
Franky tore the front of the underwear away, his tongue out and waiting to catch my chubbing cock as it fell free from the gaping hole.
“Fuck, Franky,” I groaned, unable to breathe past the hot steam stifling the air.
Franky released my cock with a pop, falling to his heels, one hand on the tub’s ledge, the other strong-arming the base of his erection. “Get in,” he ordered, barely holding on to his sanity.
I legged out of my jeans and the shredded underwear, then submerged myself into the hot water with a hiss when my bruises protested. The pain faded away within minutes. “You’re going to have to take care of that first if you expect me to relax while being bathed.” I gestured between my legs to where my cock saluted below the water as Franky reached for the bath sponge and soap.
“Maybe I want you to suffer,” he said, even while reaching below the surface to take care of me. I got comfortable, bending my legs until my knees rose above the water and then letting them fall to the sides of the tub.
“How long are you going to keep me in suspense?” I asked, undulating as he worked me at a leisurely pace. “How was the reunion?”
“I was happy to see the boys,” he said. “Although, how I felt on the inside about their return didn’t translate well on the outside. I mostly stood back as they fawned over their mother.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. You think they don’t know you? They love you anyway.” Knowing Franky, he greeted them with a handshake-hug and said something like “welcome home” with a stony expression. “I mean, they did fly in for it.”
“Yeah,” he said with a hint of a loving smile for his sons. He didn’t apply enough pressure to bring me over, just enough to mellow me, to make me feel drugged as we spoke.
“And Selene?” I whispered.
He didn’t waste time pretending that I was asking about her well-being. “She was respectful of where we still are with things. I haven’t changed my mind. I’ll find the right time to tell her.”
“Did you get to open my birthday gift?” I asked, fingers digging into the edges of the porcelain tub as Franky tightened his fist.
“I excused myself to the kitchen with my slice of birthday cake and added the extra frosting you provided me with.”
“A-all of it on o-one piece of c-cake?” I stuttered, body blistering with beads of sweat as my orgasm took shape. I’d managed to jerk off a couple times, filling a portion cup with my cum before he’d left.
“All of it,” he stressed, water splashing as he jerked me off.
