57. FRANKIE #3
He groans. He reaches behind him and yanks his shirt over his head. Then he’s on me, chest pressing against mine. His hands cup my ass, squeeze, then slide over my torso, find my arms, end up in my hair. They’re everywhere, and I can’t keep track of them.
Until one wraps around my semi. He mouths my collarbone and strokes me lightly. My skin buzzes, and heat rushes south. He continues his slow path down my chest, licks the bottom curve of my pec. That tongue trails dangerously close to where I want him but stays just out of reach.
My growl echoes around us, and his lips curve against me.
Then he gives me what I want. He sucks my nipple into his mouth, and a streak of pleasure shoots to my dick.
I buck into his hand in rhythm with the way his tongue is sliding over me.
God. This man’s tongue. It rolls over my nipple in slow, sensual waves that are sending sparks skittering over my skin.
His free hand travels up my torso to pinch my other nipple. My head falls back, my rough pants echoing around us. My skin’s electrified, every touch sending a jolt through me straight to my groin. I’m about five seconds away from coming if he keeps this up.
Apparently, my man can read me because he pulls away, shoots me a grin that promises filthy things, and drops to his knees. He looks up at me through those thick ebony lashes. His lips shine, swollen from kissing me and my body, cheeks already getting that sex-flush I love so much.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” His throaty whisper skates over me. His hands slide up my thighs, tickling my coarse leg hair. “You deserve this so damn much. You deserve the world.”
My dick twitches, and he chuckles.
He cocks a brow. “And you tell me down, boy?” He kisses the underside of my shaft. So. Damn. Lovingly.
Then those lips close around my dick, and I slump against the island.
My hand finds his hair. He eases onto me, each suck bringing him further and further down my shaft.
He moans, and the sound vibrates all the way through to my balls.
That blue stare is locked on me, hands gripping my hips tight, my dick disappearing between those pouty lips over and over again.
“Your lips will be the death of me,” I rasp. God, even stretched around my dick, they’re still so full. “You’re so pretty, Jackie-boy.”
His eyes glow at my praise. His gaze scours every inch of my face, flicks up to my hairline, and darkens. Oh, someone likes me in his hat.
I reach up and go to remove it. He growls. My breath gets stuck in my chest. Dio mio, that was fucking sexy.
I shoot him a sultry smile and readjust the cap. He shakes his head, even with his mouth full of my dick. The glint in his lust-glazed eyes has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. He’s up to something.
His hand slides to my inner thighs, and he shoves my legs further apart. Then he cups my balls. My eyes fall shut, every gentle roll of my aching balls sending the pressure coiling tighter. His knuckle grazes over my taint, and I jolt.
I’m not sure which is going to be my undoing—the downright sinful sounds of sex echoing through this kitchen or the pressure on my taint.
All I know is Jackson Olander will be responsible.
He was always going to be my undoing.
But I needed to be undone.
All my walls. My shields. My fears.
Those sad, yearning blue eyes pierced right through them.
All those days ago when I approached him, when I offered him a chance to explore who he is, comes rushing back:
“No pressure either way,” I murmured. “Just opportunity. If you want it.”
I thought I was the one helping him. Giving him something.
How wrong I was. Because this man gave me everything I’d stopped dreaming of.
And more.
He abruptly lets go of me and lifts two fingers to my mouth. His eyes say the command for him. Suck. I pop his fingers inside and drag my tongue between them, then suck hard. He whimpers around my dick.
Yeah, loverboy. Two can play at this game.
And Jackson came to play.
He presses down on my tongue, making me gag.
Saliva pools in my mouth, and it has him shifting on his knees, pupils flaring.
Then he slips his fingers from me, and they’re back between my legs.
Those slippery fingers find my taint, and my hands fly to the countertop.
My knees have disappeared. There’s no weak, there’s no wobbly. They’re just gone.
My body lights up, full-on neon display of buzzing pleasure. It roars to life under my skin. He massages my taint with new determination, and my muscles lock tight. He loosens his lips, continuing his onslaught while holding my orgasm at bay.
Until it can’t be contained any longer.
He presses his knuckle into me in just the right spot, and bliss overtakes me. Swallows me. The same way Jackson swallows me down. He groans as he takes me, one of his hands pressing on his dick. The sight has another wave of pleasure crashing over me.
My sexy, sexy ballplayer.
He pops off me, chest heaving, and I lean boneless against the island. Something I’ve never seen before flashes across his stormy eyes.
And before I know what’s happening, I’m on my knees.