CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Frustration bubbles over, prying my eyes open to glare at the ceiling.
Sleep continues to elude me. The digital clock on the wall is too bright, revealing what I already know.
It’s half-past midnight. I’ve been tossing and turning for almost an hour.
That’s only after I forced myself to lie down in the first place.
Images of Frankie bouncing in a Western saddle taunt me. It’s my own damn fault. I shouldn’t have voiced the visual. Now, my fantasies are manifesting it.
“Dammit!”
I kick off the covers and lurch out of bed.
My bare feet begin pacing manically back and forth as my filthy mind conjures more material.
Fire traces along my spine, pushing me to submit to the urges.
I’d go weeks without before Frankie’s irresistible ass arrived on the scene.
That woman is reducing me to a mindless fiend.
There’s an easy solution, but I can’t travel down that twisted road. I don’t want to fantasize about her. It’s a lie, one of many I tell myself when it comes to Francesca Keller.
But the truth is that she’s my daughter’s nanny. I’m paying her for a service and it’s not to get me off. Once I let those desires roam free, I won’t be able to shove them back into the stable. But I won’t get a decent night’s sleep either.
“Fuck it,” I growl and drop my boxers.
While one fist gathers the discarded fabric, I use the other to grasp my cock in a punishing chokehold.
Air hisses from behind my clenched teeth.
There’s already a throb pulsing through my shaft, demanding more.
The intensity of my arousal is almost concerning.
I’ve been depriving myself. That won’t be a problem anymore.
The box is open and my thoughts run wild.
As I blindly reach for the lube in the nightstand drawer, I’m picturing Frankie astride her beloved mount.
Only a black lace bra and matching thong conceal her.
The bombshell’s thighs are straddled wide over the saddle.
It’s obscene how far her legs are stretched apart.
She moans and tosses her head, spilling silky hair down her delicate curves.
A cluck of her tongue instructs the beast beneath her to move.
“That’s it, menace. Go faster,” I command.
With a squirt of lube in my palm, I grip my cock at the base. The first stroke is an electric spark zapping through my veins. I bow forward from the force while spots dance in my vision.
“Shit,” I curse. “Gonna make me blow in three pumps.”
Frankie smirks from the depravity of my imagination.
My hand slides along my dick as I picture her beginning to trot.
Her breasts sway from the jerky motion, spurring me to jerk faster.
I’m thrusting into my fist while she turns to give me a peek at her ass.
The supple flesh jiggles as if I’m spanking her.
That sends a fresh wave of heat to fondle me.
“Such a tease,” I croak and beat myself harder.
That’s another lie. I have no doubt that Frankie would be on the bed with her legs splayed if I allowed it. But I won’t be an empty fuck for her. If we cross that boundary, she’ll be mine whether her commitment issues can handle it immediately or not.
“If I can’t have you, nobody else can.”
The threat spews from me while I tighten my grip. My muscles contract from the slick friction. An ache expands from my groin, demanding more. My palm glides up and down as I envision Frankie bouncing on my lap. Fuck the saddle. She’s riding me from now on.
“Yes,” I whimper.
The sound is embarrassing, even in the privacy of my own bedroom. It doesn’t stop me. Pressure builds and spreads until it’s shooting out. I barely manage to get the crumpled boxers over my tip before I’m erupting.
The pleasure is blinding to the point where I lose my footing and stagger. I’m suspended in its clutches while the lust pours out of me. My hips buck along to the spurts of release. On the fourth, I’m drained dry. Relief expels from me in a labored breath.
And then I’m collapsing onto the mattress. A lazy smirk displays the contentment thrumming through me. It takes less than five seconds for me to pass out, fading into a warped Christmas miracle where Frankie could actually be mine.