43. Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Frankie
T hank you. Thank you. Thank you.
The sentiment chanted through Frankie’s mind from the second she opened her door and found Benjamin standing there wearing a mix of hope and shame. She’d tried to stop wanting him, tried to put him out of her mind or at the very least categorize him as “completely unavailable.” Her efforts even extended to welcoming another man into her hotel room when he’d escorted her back from the reception.
“Alone at last.” Clint’s words—brimming with implication—crawled over Frankie in an unsettling way she didn’t understand. In all measures, Sheriff Howards was a good man: kind, patient, hard-working. And to say he was attractive was the biggest understatement since Mercutio claimed his stab wound was just a scratch. Because at six-foot-four, jacked with solid muscle, unruly surfer boy curls, and jaw sharp enough to cut glass, the dude was ridiculously hot.
And yet the thought of him touching her, kissing her, pleasuring her, made her cringe, which would be a very inconvenient reaction given the circumstance. Enough of one that she’d let him down easy and turned him away before he had the opportunity to land his perfect lips on hers.
Clint’s disappointment had been clear, but he hadn’t pushed or pressured. He’d simply suggested she call him if she changed her mind then ducked out the door.
Her self-flagellating thoughts— He’s perfect and available. What’s wrong with you? —met a hasty end when a knock sounded at her door.
While she knew there wasn’t a future with Benjamin, she’d met his arrival with relief and body-shuddering lust. Tonight was all she’d get. She could accept that.
But she was going to make it worth it.
And leave an impression in the meantime.
Standing in front of Benjamin as he lounged on her bed, she dragged her gaze up and down his body and came to a stark conclusion. There was a huge problem, one that needed to be remedied immediately.
“You’re wearing too much,” she scolded, gesturing lazily at him. “Strip.”
He grinned, that cocky, seductive, flashing blue-eyed grin of his, and rose from the mattress. She watched, mesmerized, as he slowly slid out of his unbuttoned shirt. The gray-toned tattoo of Lady Justice peeked from his side, rippling against the expanse of well-crafted obliques. Next, he handled his belt, button, and zipper steadily until his immaculately tailored trousers slid to the floor.
How could he possibly be so cool and collected while Frankie’s body shivered and hummed in anticipation?
Because this means something different to him.
Shaking her head to dispel the nagging thought, she caught Benjamin’s frown.
“Not to your liking?” he teased, though there was an undercurrent of something else in his voice.
Redirecting her attention, she shrugged. Her thoughts were hers, and she wasn’t going to share them with a man who would be gone by sunup .
So, she lied, kind of. “I feel overdressed now.”
She stepped closer to him and gave him a tiny shove to sit on the bed and then turned. He slowly unzipped her dress, planting luxurious kisses along each vertebra he exposed. The elegant garment fell heavily from her shoulders into a pool of icy velvet at her feet.
A low rumble emitted from Benjamin’s throat, clearly approving of what he saw. He reached out to touch, but she sidestepped him. “Ah-ah. I’m the boss, remember?”
His hands dropped to his sides with a playfully menacing look. A thrill fluttered at the thought that such a commanding man would be so obedient.
She stepped closer, standing between his knees, and dipped her head enough to kiss his perfect lips. His hunger matched hers, taking the contact as an invitation to touch much more of her. And he knew exactly how to touch her. Fingers dug into her flesh, squeezed and pinched sensitive peaks; fingernails gently scraped from her nape to the crescents below each cheek at the top of her legs. He licked and kissed and nibbled. Frankie moaned approvingly, praising his work as he thoroughly roamed her body.
His erection strained aggressively against his black boxer briefs. All manner of naughty ideas of what to do with him crossed her mind. A ripple of heat rose up her neck. She knelt, and he sucked in an audible breath.
“Francesca.” She couldn’t tell if he said it as a prayer or warning, but both possibilities imbued her with heady power. Smiling up at him, she laid a trail of wet little kisses down his belly until she reached the top band at his hips. He’d let go of her, instead gripping the linen beneath him, but as soon as she dipped a fingertip below the only garment he still wore, he plunged his hands into her hair.
She pulled, releasing the full heft of him, and met his wild, unblinking eyes. Except for the ragged rise and fall of his chest, Benjamin sat frozen as though any twitch would cause her to flee. Frankie had to bite back a giggle because the stark, wicked anticipation was broadcasted across his handsome face.
Slowly dipping down, she trailed her tongue around the tip. His hips jerked on instinct.
“Fuck, sorry,” he said through a clenched jaw, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“Stay put,” she warned with a grin. He nodded.
Frankie lowered again, repeating the movement but with agonizingly slow strokes. The hold on his self-control was admirable, and she rewarded him by taking him into her mouth as far as she could. His hands tightened to fists in her hair, eliciting from her a pleased moan that she was certain he could feel against his smooth rigidity. She slowly retreated to the tip and then advanced, hands joining in to touch and grip more of him.
“Holy fuck, Francesca. Your smart little mouth. It’s so hot . . . so wet. You’re killing me, sweetheart, oh, but please don’t fucking stop.”
She began to bob up and down more rapidly, thoroughly enjoying the vulgar words that crept through the cracks of his usually so-composed exterior. His taste, his low voice encouraging her—praising her—all swelled inside of her, skyrocketing her own craving for more of him. Soon, she noticed him start to tense beneath her attention and chuckled to herself because as soon as he neared climax she pulled away, stopping him just shy of release like he had done to her in the cabin.
Gripping her hair tighter, he turned her face up toward his, amazed at the fire that seemed to dance on the turbulent ocean blue of his eyes. She could see it written all over his face. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, and he battled internally over whether he should return the favor .
“Need I remind you that I’m the one in control tonight?” Frankie hadn’t realized how fun and heady it would be to play with fire until that moment. Power surged through her as though she were superhuman, and she found herself intoxicated.
He growled—actually growled—but loosened his fists. “Thin ice.”
Detangling him from her already wild hair, she reached for his discarded pants. After fishing through his pockets and finding them empty aside from a keycard, she grumbled and flung them aside.
“What are you searching for, Francesca?” His composure, at least in part, had returned as he watched her curiously.
“Looking for something,” she mumbled.
“Inside jacket pocket.”
She eyed him suspiciously then dug her hand into the silk lining, procuring a strip of condoms.
“You’re lucky,” she purred as she slowly walked back over to him, hips swaying.
“I have a lengthy list of reasons why running through my head.” He chuckled huskily. “But tell me why you think I’m lucky.”
“Because I would have sent you out to the nearest drugstore if you hadn’t brought protection.” She dropped the foil packets on the nightstand and stepped across to straddle his hips. “Dressed just like this.”
“Sweetheart, there are no bounds to the lengths I’d go for you.”
As he said it, his eyes glinted playfully, but before she could focus on the lie in his words, she got back to her original mission.
“Lay back.”
He did.
So, she rewarded him by straddling his hips and removing her bra. “Touch me.”
He did.
She arched into his strong hands, grinding hard against his straining erection. He cupped her ass and pulled her up toward his chest. She understood and shimmied so her knees rested on either side of his head, pretending all the while that it had been her idea. “Lick me.”
And, holy fuckity fuck, he did. Hooking a finger and pulling aside her panties for better access, he swirled and dragged and flicked his tongue until she was quivering and shuddering. All the while, she undulated her hips above him, desperate for even more contact, more friction. This position was great—fantastic, really—but she wanted him to slide into her, claim her, even if it would only be for one more night. She didn’t mind so much because she was aware of the circumstances this time.
“Benjamin.” The wobbly quality of her voice startled her.
“M-hm?” The hum against her most sensitive spot sent quivers out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
“I want you to bend me over and slide into me until I’m begging to come.”
The hum turned to a growl, and with deft action, he flipped her off of him. Strong hands gripped her hips, turning her onto her belly and tugging her panties down with one surprising swipe. She tingled, hearing the condom wrapper. But before she could say anything cheeky about him hurrying up, the press of his solid tip tested her, finding no resistance because of the wetness they’d both provided. Suddenly, with her hips in the air and cheek pressed into the mattress, he drove into her.
She screamed, but not one of pain. No, there was only agonizing fullness and stretch and bliss. He felt perfect inside her, and she had no idea how she had forgotten how good he would feel .
“Did I hurt you?” Her heart filled too as he checked in with her, still testing her with tiny, gentle thrusts.
“No. No, it was perfect,” she assured breathlessly.
“Thank god.”
The relief in his voice almost made her laugh, but the chuckle morphed into whines and whimpers because he pulled out fully and pushed back in. Over and over, he thrust with increased speed and force. Every plunder pressed her deep where decadent pressure began to build.
His hands were everywhere. Playing with her nipples, the tight bundle of nerves between her legs, squeezing and teasing her with playful smacks on her ass.
“So. Fucking. Perfect. So tight. So exquisite. Oh god, Francesca, squeeze. Yes. Oh fuck, yes.” Benjamin’s words were a chant, tumbling out as though he were in a trance as he pumped harder and harder. “I’m going to make you come so hard, and then I’m going to lose it. When you squeeze and flutter around me, I’m going to give you everything.”
He reached around and cupped her breasts, pulling back so she was upright against his chest but still kneeling on the bed. A large, solid hand stroked up and settled at her throat. His other fingers spread and teased just above where he pumped into her over and over.
“I can feel you. You’re about to come. Oh fuck I can feel you tensing.”
What were words? They might as well be something as complicated as theoretical physics because Frankie couldn’t form a single one as she barreled toward a lethal orgasm. Just another thrust, another flick, another squeeze, and . . .
She toppled over the edge, riding a roller coaster through a cavern of blisteringly bright stars. Shocks of light flooded her senses as she wailed in shameless pleasure .
“That’s right, sweetheart, that’s right. Come for me, squeeze me tighter. I can take it.” Benjamin’s thrusts became more erratic, which only magnified the encompassing bliss strobing through Frankie as he neared his own completion. Louder rumbles and grunts rode out of his mouth with each strangled breath until he slid in hard and held her tight to his body.
The throb of his orgasm pulsed inside Frankie, playing against the wildly sensitive parts of her as she barely hung on to her sanity. He heaved raggedly against the back of her ear, planting lazy kisses against her neck and shoulder.
He carefully pulled out of her. “Give me one moment. Please, stay right here.”
She couldn’t refuse such a gentle request and was instantly rewarded by being swept into his strong arms not a few seconds later. Pulling back the blankets on her bed, he settled her in the warm comfort and tangled his limbs with hers.
Perfection.
That’s what the last hour had been. Her chest ached for a moment, knowing that there wouldn’t be an endless supply of similar encounters, but quickly schooled herself. Not now. She could mourn the loss of this delicious, bliss-delivering man in the morning.