Chapter 13 - Frankie #2
That earned a low exhale. “Because you’re easy to be honest with.
” He raked a hand through his hair, suddenly looking tired.
But not in a weak way. More like he’d been holding up an entire building his whole life and finally set it down for a second, still stronger than anyone had a right to be.
“And that’s dangerous for a man in my position. ”
My heart squeezed, and I put my fork down gently. “Jonathan…I’m glad you told me.”
His eyes warmed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Then, because my brain had zero filter and my libido was apparently suicidal, I added, “You know, I used to have a crush on one of my professors in college.”
Jonathan blinked. “I’m sorry?”
I shrugged, heat creeping up my neck. “He was older. Serious. Bossy in that way where you’re not sure if he’s mad at you or trying not to smile.” I twirled a piece of hair around my finger, realizing exactly what I was doing but unable to stop. “You remind me of him.”
Jonathan’s expression shifted, surprise at first then something heavier, darker. “Frankie.”
“What?” I asked, too innocently.
“If he’d acted on that crush, he’d have been a very bad man.” His voice went low, thoughtful. “Power like that over a student? Completely unacceptable.”
I raised a brow. “So…what about you and me? You’re about to be the don. I’m just…” I gestured at myself vaguely. “Me.”
He straightened, expression sharpening with concern. “Do you feel taken advantage of?”
“No,” I said immediately. “I mean—it’s not like I signed up for the auction because, well, for any reason beyond desperation. I needed the money. But I don’t regret any of this. Any of you.”
He studied me carefully. “You’re sure?”
“Jonathan.” I leaned forward. “If I didn’t want you, you’d know.”
His eyes flicked down to my mouth then back up. “Oh, I’m sure. I can certainly tell that you’ve liked everything we’ve done so far.”
My stomach flipped. “Maybe.”
“That’s not a maybe.” His voice deepened. “But I also know how much control you gave up that night. How much you didn’t get to choose.”
I swallowed, hands prickling with heat. “And?”
“And maybe,” he murmured, stepping closer, “it would help if you took some of that control back.”
I went still.
Then warm.
Then achingly, breathlessly alive.
“How?” I whispered.
He smiled—slow, dangerous, devastating. “Are you ready to find out, or do you need a rest?”
I kissed him hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and mine, and that answered his question. In seconds, he was flinging open my barely-tied robe, lifting me from the stool as he did.
He carried me like I weighed nothing, not putting me down until he took a seat in a dining chair beside a gleaming table. Then, he sat me on his lap.
“When you’re on top, angel, you have all the control,” he told me slowly, staring hard into my eyes.
His own irises, brown like mine but less chocolate-sweet, were like hot coals: dark and hot and likely to burn if I got too close.
With quick, easy motions that showed off his impressive strength, he repositioned me so I was straddling his thighs. I gasped just from that, the fullness of his muscled legs beneath me, the hardening ridge of his erection waking back up. All of that was for me.
It made me feel powerful.
Jonathan let my robe fall away completely and stared at my body, my full breasts, like he’d never seen anything so wonderful before.
Like he hadn’t just seen me half an hour ago.
Less. Like he hadn’t already been inside me enough times that I could feel him there again now, even as my pussy was empty.
Not for long.
I got the picture pretty quickly for a fairly new non-virgin. Jonathan let me pull him free from the waistband of the sweats he’d thrown on, and he whispered sweet encouragement as I stroked him in my hand, urging his length to harden to its full glory.
Then, with his hands at my hips to guide me down, to show me the best way to strike up a rhythm, Jonathan eased my pussy onto his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasped once he entered me. It was just the tip, the full and delectable head of him, but from this angle, it felt so big. “I don’t know if I can take all of you like this,” I told him, my voice taking on a bit of a whine.
Jonathan let out a low chuckle, one of the hottest sounds I’d ever heard.
He nipped at my ear lobe with his teeth then started to kiss down toward my breast, which he cupped in his hand possessively. “Oh, Frankie. You sure know how to make a guy feel ten feet tall.”
“More like ten feet long,” I quipped, earning a cheeky little bite-suck on my nipple that made a fresh wave of wet desire flood between my legs.
“Go on, angel. Take Daddy’s cock like the good little girl I know you are. You can do it.”
And fuck, it felt like a miracle and a sin all at once, but I did it. Slowly, painfully slowly, I sank down until Jonathan was seated fully inside me.
It was fast, then. It was late enough now that we needed rest, and though we never got enough of each other, we’d already fucked so many times that I wasn’t sure I could prolong this the way I would have wanted to under other circumstances.
Jonathan helped me, guiding me with big, thick-fingered hands on my ass until together we found a perfect up-down, slow grind, tortuous rhythm.
He was so deep this way, so far inside me it felt like this shouldn’t be allowed.
I fucking loved it.
“Fuck, Daddy,” I heard myself call out as I picked up my pace. “You-you feel so good.”
“Tell me, baby girl,” Jonathan growled as he helped me by thrusting up from below. Oh, it almost hurt, but it was so good I couldn’t stop.
“You—your cock is so big. So hard inside me,” I was saying loud enough that Alex and Devin, if they were working somewhere inside the house, surely would be able to hear.
Let them, I thought. Maybe they’d come fuck me again before the night was through.
Or at least I could dream of them stroking their own perfect cocks at the thought of me.
“And you’re so fucking tight and wet,” Jonathan gritted out. “Too good.”
“Too fucking perfect,” I almost cried, riding him like my life depended on it.
At that moment, it felt like it did. I needed to come, to feel him come inside me, more than I needed anything else.
Safety. Air to breathe. Delicious food cooked by a sexy mafia chef.
“I—I love it,” I cried out. “I love riding your cock, Daddy. Please, let me come.”
Somehow, recklessly, I wanted him to come, too. Inside me. Making me feel completely alive even as I risked it all.
My orgasm crashed over me, threatening to drown me in its perfect ecstasy. I sobbed, twitched, and moaned through the waves. And I kept riding him anyway. I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.