40. Frank
FRANK
“Take me inside.”
Ember doesn’t need to ask twice.
Her arms circle my neck as I carry her in, straight into the bathroom, where I strip off her robe and my clothes, and lead her into the warm shower.
We’ve showered together a few times, and ever since the first occasion, I’ve missed her when I shower alone.
I miss her whenever I do anything alone, and sometimes, even when I’m in the same room with her, because I know this is all temporary for her.
That needs to change.
With a soapy cloth, I clean every inch of Ember’s body, following the shower mist with my mouth, nipping at her shoulder, her breast, her hip, her thigh. She’s mine, and she needs to know that.
I step one foot out to reach for a condom—we left some in here for convenience—and quickly return to her, lifting her up until she wraps her slippery legs around my waist. I sink into her, and fuck— every time is better than the last.
So tight, so wet, so perfect for me.
We need to have a talk soon, because the more days that go by, the less I can stand the idea of her ever leaving. She belongs here with me—with us, if that’s how she wants it.
She talks to me as I start to pump in and out of her—”Oh yeah, Frank. Oh fuck, yeah. You feel so good.”—but then all she can do is moan as I drive in harder.
I grind her body against mine, and watch her lose control with every thrust.
Her nails dig into my shoulder, her fingers grasp the hair at the back of my head, and then every muscle in her body stiffens just before her pussy throbs around my cock.
I thought I had more staying power, but Ember’s surrender is my downfall.
One hand on her fine ass, the other wrapped around her back, I pull her in close and bury myself so deep I could lose myself forever.
It’s so right. It can’t end.