CHAPTER 31
Frankie
I’ve just cum so hard that I’m cross-eyed, but he’s not giving me a second to rest.
I like this man’s style.
He’s lifted me up and rolled under me, and I watch with amazement when he raises his massive arm alongside his head to retrieve the condom from the pillow. I’ve never seen a man this huge who’s also this chiseled.
I’m suddenly curious… one day I’ll have to watch him do whatever it is he does to get this cut, because holy shit! Does he lift pickup trucks off the ground for fun? Rip down stone walls with his bare hands? Complete Iron Man competitions when he’s got a few spare minutes?
So big.
So hard.
And yet… I stroke my palm against the satiny skin of his chest, letting the dark blond curls tickle my fingers. I trace along a thick and raised scar that goes over his shoulder all the way to a nipple. That’s a story I’ll have to hear one day.
Then I tap a fingertip to his breastbone and slide it down, down, until I can bump along the rise and fall of his eye-popping washboard abs.
Hoo, boy. I’ve reached the promised land. I’m going to do it. I’m not some kind of innocent virgin. I already got enough of a look that I know he’s a lot. But I can handle him. So, with that in mind, I decide to take a deep breath and survey all that MacLaine’s packin’.
Lord.
Have.
Mercy.
I reach down to hold his cock in my hand. My fingers barely meet around his girth. He’s silk over steel, hot and rigid under my touch. And growing longer, if that’s even possible.
I let go with an involuntary sigh. Followed by a little squeak of surprise.
“We’ll go slow.”
I nod, still staring at the shocking beauty of his cock. It’s a network of bulging veins. It’s huge, rounded tip. I slide my finger over the tiny drop of pre-cum.
“When you’re ready, you might want to put this on me, Boots.”
I laugh a little. He’s right, I should put the condom on him because I need him to fuck my brains out, but my hands are still a little shaky and my mind’s reeling.
What’s happening to me right now?
Since when am I hypnotized by a man?
Since when do I allow a man to give me a nickname?
Why then melt every time he utters it?
And why the absolute hell did I have to meet this gorgeous, funny, and kind man at the most completely fucked-up moment of my completely fucked-up life?
The universe is a cruel bitch.
I snap out of it, dragging my gaze to Special K’s face. He looks puzzled. Worried, even. Maybe I spent too much time stroking and staring at his spectacular cock. How long was I lost down there?
I hold out my free hand. He places the condom packet on my palm. I do what has to be done because, of course, I do.
I’m scrupulously cautious when it comes to sexual health. I never, ever have sex without a condom. But for some reason, I’m truly bummed out that one is required right now.
I need to be skin-on-skin with Special K. I need to know what it feels like to be that connected with a man who’s both a spectacular lover and a good guy. I’d like to know once before I run off to face whatever future awaits me.
I roll the latex down his length, my fingers still trembling. He rests a huge hand on my wrist.
“I want you something fierce,” he whispers, eyes flashing. “If I ever get too much for you, tell me.”
I smile and lean forward, stretching out on top of him. It feels glorious to have my entire body against his, breasts to toes, the length of his hard cock pressed into my belly. “I think maybe you’re already too much for me, cowboy.”
A shadow falls over his eyes.
“But in a good way.” I reach up to brush a fingertip across his bottom lip. “A very good way.”
I bring my lips to his. His arms go around me. And I surrender to the gravitational pull of Special K MacLaine, hot rancher. I simply let go. I let his heat and his rock-solid strength carry me off, pull me under, until I’m lost to it.
On fire.
And the only thing that matters is that he gets inside me.
His lips become rough on mine, demanding. His tongue forces its way inside my mouth as his hands slap down on my ass, then grip the backs of my thighs. He spreads my legs open and grabs me behind my knees, putting me in the position he wants me.
I’m faintly aware of how much I’m enjoying this. It’s fun to be manhandled in such a playful way.
He’s right.
We’re going to have a lot of fun together.
I rise to a sitting position and push up on my knees, then reach between my legs. His huge hands cup my hips. He stares up at me, a devilish little smile on his sexy mouth.
And then he does it—pushes me down just an inch or two, slowly and gently, until the huge head of his cock splits apart the outer lips of my pussy and pushes inside.
It’s a shock to the system. And then he keeps going.
I hiss in surprise. I’m damn glad he’s already got me warmed up for this, since he’s the biggest man I’ve attempted to take.
And then it happens. I feel my spine loosen and my hips encourage him to go deeper. And the sensation is so good, too good, as he makes more headway.
I throw my head back and my body undulates like a serpent as I ride his big dick. His hands go to my breasts. I sink down on him until the insides of my thighs kiss his pelvis.
“Fuck me,” he groans. “Do it, Boots.”
I lose myself, which I guess is the whole point of great sex.
Not that I’ve ever had sex this great. His hands are all over me, fingers splayed on my waist, over my ribs, sliding up my sides to my neck.
For a brief moment, he stays here, one of his hands on my throat, and it’s so carnally charged that I’m on the brink of cumming again.
Then he changes direction to slide his fingers down my belly. He searches out my clit, knows instinctively what I need—how fast, how hard, how much, or how little direct contact.
I don’t know how he knows. But he does.
He plays with my clit. I grind on him. And I snap out of some kind of sexual trance at the sound of my own groans.
I raise my head and look down at him. He’s as lost as I am. His eyes are heavy-lidded but I see a sense of wonder in his expression. Surprise.
I grind hard down on him. My hips make circles on his body, all the while I’m pulling him deeper, gripping his cock with the inside of my pussy walls.
“Holy fuck, what are you doing to me?” he whispers.
I shake my head. I don’t have an answer for him, because whatever it is, it’s a whole new thing for me, too.