Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
FRENCHIE
The movie has been done for a while, and I couldn’t care less about it, especially when Stassi straddles my lap on the couch. Her lips on mine, and she grinds down on my already hard as-rock cock.
“Frenchie," Stassi whispers, her voice heavy with desire. "I want you."
"Ditto," I growl, capturing her lips. She gasps into my mouth as I nip at her lower lip teasingly. Her hands find their way into my hair, tugging softly and driving me wild.
"Baby, you...," I start, but Stassi silences me with another kiss, her hands now making their way down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt as she goes. I reach for her waist, pulling her even closer until there is no space left between us.
I pull back and gently cup her face, “Just know if we do this, there is absolutely no turning back. You are mine, just as much as I am yours.”
Stassi blinks up at me, her green eyes wide and sincere. "Frenchie," she breathes, her hands stilling on my chest. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
With those words, my hands move up to tangle in her hair, pulling her to me for a searing kiss. Stassi starts tugging at the hem of my shirt. I help her pull it over my head, tossing it aside before reaching for hers. As the material lifts over her head, I break our kiss just long enough for it to pass before I capture her lips again. My hands explore the soft, smooth skin of her back before moving to unclasp her bra.
"Stassi," I murmur, trailing kisses down her neck. She gasps tilts her head back to give me better access.
"Yes," she replies breathlessly.
“Do you want to doink?”
A giggle bubbles up from Stassi at my unexpected question, her eyes sparkling with amusement and desire. "Doink? Really, Frenchie?"
"Hey sorry, I’m a funny guy," I respond, grinning against her skin. Her laughter is a sweet melody that only ratchets my desire.
"Yes, John-Paul," she answers softly once her giggles subside. "I want to...doink." The last word is delivered with a teasing roll of her eyes.
I scoop her up in my arms and stand up from the couch. She squeals in surprise, wrapping her arms around me as I make my way to the bedroom.
Our lips find each other, and there’s no stopping us now; we’re about to cross a line we won’t be able to return from. I wouldn't have it any other way.
I lay her down gently on the bed, hovering above her, as she is bare to me, I take in her beauty. My hands wandering over her body.
"God, you're beautiful," I tell her honestly, my eyes locked onto hers. Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink at my words, but she doesn't look away.
Her hands move to unbuckle my belt, her fingers shaky. I help her out, chuckling softly at her eagerness. I pull my pants and boxers down in one swift move, kicking them aside before I lean back down to claim her lips once more.
"Are you sure, baby?" I ask for the final time, my eyes scanning her face for any sign of doubt or hesitation.
Instead of answering, she gently wraps her hand around my cock and squeezes, and a low growl escapes my throat. She looks up at me as she takes a slow drag of her tongue over my head.
"Stassi," I groan. As the fuel she needed, she takes my cock into her warm, wet mouth. Goosebumps break out over my skin. She is clouding all my senses. Her name falls from my lips in a desperate plea, both for more and for mercy.
God, she's good at this. Too good. And knowing it's Stassi; that she's the one leaving me breathless and begging... It only makes everything between us feel more all-consuming.
But I want her with me every step of the way.
I gently pull her off me, bringing her up to meet my gaze. She looks at me with heavy-lidded eyes, her lips puffy and glistening in the dim light.
"I wanna taste you, baby. Scoot to the middle of the bed,” I tell her.
Stassi's eyes widen for a split second before an impish grin forms on her lips. "No one's ever…" she stammers, a red blush creeping across her cheeks.
I place a reassuring hand on her bare thigh, my gaze never leaving hers. "Trust me?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper. She nods, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
"Always," she whispers back.
Helping her move to the middle, she's looking at me with so much trust, it makes my heart ache. Looking down, I see how wet she is, and I need to have her taste on my tongue and consume her.
Placing my mouth to her pussy, my breaths over her until she moans softly. "John-Paul..." she breathes, her hands clutching at the sheets.
"Let go for me, baby," I coax gently before pressing a kiss onto her sensitive clit. Her body jolts, a moan escaping her lips. Slowly, I begin to explore her with my tongue.
Her hands find their way into my hair, pulling gently. I look up and see sparks ignite in her green eyes, a sight that spurs me on.
“Don’t stop, John-Paul,” she breathes out.
Her moans fill the room as I suck at her clit, unable to resist the sweet taste of her arousal. The more she moans, the harder I suck. Her legs tremble around me and she bucks underneath me.
"I'm...John-Paul...I'm..." She gasps.
My grip on her thighs won't allow her to move, only squirm beneath my tongue. She arches up off the bed as an orgasm tears through her, crying out my name in ecstasy.
“Oh God, John-Paul!" Her body writhes beneath me, her fingers digging into my scalp. Her cries fuel my desire, pushing me to the point of no return.
Eager to taste more of her, I lap up every trace of her orgasm until she's trembling beneath me only when her breath starts to even out do I pull away, crawling up her body to claim her lips once more.
With her taste still on my tongue and lips, she sighs against my mouth. "John-Paul," she whispers, pulling back slightly to look at me with glazed eyes, "That was..."
"Magic?" I provide, grinning down at her.
Her laughter fills the room, easing the palpable tension that hung in the air moments before. "Yeah," she agrees after a moment. "Magic."
I take this moment to admire her tousled hair spread out on the pillow beneath her head, flushed cheeks, and hands that are now exploring my chest. She looks so vulnerable, yet a fire in her eyes tells me she's far from being fragile.
"You okay?" I ask, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
She nods, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. "More than okay," she breathes into my ear.
"That's all I need to hear." I move to position myself between her thighs, brushing against her wetness.
Reaching over to the bedside table, I grab the condom tucked inside the drawer. Ripping open the foil package and slowly rolling it down, "John-Paul..." she whispers, tilting her hips up to meet mine.
I enter her slowly, savoring the warmth enveloping me as I push deeper into her with every heart-stopping inch. Her gasp at the sensation sends a jolt of desire straight to my groin, spurring me on.
"You're so tight," I groan, starting to move inside her. Each stroke is measured and slow, bringing us closer to the edge. We move together in a rhythm that seems as old as time itself. Each kiss is a promise of something more. I can feel her climax building, her body tightening around me as we move.
“John-Paul,” she breathes, her voice shaking with pleasure.
“I know, baby,” I pant in return, “me too.”
Her hands roam over my back as her nails digging in, as I kiss down her neck. She tastes like honey and desire, a combination I know I'll never get enough of.
"John-Paul, please," Stassi whimpers, her hips lifting to meet mine thrust for thrust. The desperation in her voice spurs me on, and I pound into her. Her cries and our bodies colliding fill the room.
"Right there, don’t stop." There is so much urgency in her voice. I pull out and slowly enter her, finding the sweet spot that makes her moan even louder. The bed creaks under us, her legs around my waist drawing me deeper. “I'm close," she gasps.
"Let go for me, Stassi," I whisper against her ear, my voice rough with desire. "Come with me."
That’s all it takes. With a loud cry, she clenches around me, her entire body shuddering as she climaxes. The sight of her, pushes me over the edge. My thrusts become erratic, the air filled with our gasps and moans.
I collapse beside her, both of us panting heavily. Stroking her hair gently with one hand, my other arm wrapped securely around her. We lie there in silence for a few minutes, just breathing in unison.
“Frenchie,” Stassi murmurs, her voice soft and laden with a sleepy satisfaction as she turns to nestle closer against me. The room still hums with the echo of our passion, but now a calm settles over us, like the quiet after a storm.
I kiss her forehead gently, feeling the pulse of her heart steady against my side. “You okay?” I ask again, the concern tinted with awe at the connection we seem to have found, so intense and all-consuming.
She nods, her green eyes flickering up to meet mine. “More than okay. I’m happy,” she whispers, and the sincerity in her voice wraps around me like a warm blanket.
I smile, pulling her even closer. “Me too,” I admit, and it’s the truth. The worries about the pregnancy complications, the fear of not being enough—it all melts away in these moments with Stassi.