Frankie fit his cock between my folds but made no move to reposition my body to cover himself with me. “No, Cara Mia, you already are.”
“Yes,” I replied, opening an eye to see the smile he wore.
“Tomorrow we’ll figure out your issues with Greg and then get you settled in here, but for right now, put your hands up against the desk,” he said, wheeling his chair close to the space again. “I’ll fuck you like this.”
I leaned forward, grabbing the corner of his desk and letting my toes barely touch the carpet as Frankie pulled my ass closer to him and then jerked me back down, so I sat on top of his dick. “Oh, shit.”
He moved one hand across my chest, his palm squeezing my breast, and the other hand kept me balanced on him as he pistoned into me. His fingers rubbed against my clit, sending shockwaves through me.
A second orgasm trickled toward the top of my body as Frankie’s expert hands made me unable to move. My chest tightened, and I shouted out from another orgasm as his name tore from my chest. He growled behind me with two more quick, hard thrusts and then bit down on the back of my shoulder.
Frankie stilled even as his dick moved deep inside me and he filled my channel with his cum.
I laid my head on the cool wood desk until he picked me up and twisted me in his arms so we both laid on the leather couch, me on top of his chest as we took a moment to catch our breath.
It wasn’t until moments later, when he grew hard again, that his fingers slowly inched closer to my opening and his earlier words came back to me. Did I just agree to move in with Frankie?
How in the world did a relationship between us work? Westley would absolutely lose his shit.
CHAPTER 23
“And done,” I said as I hit submit on the paper for my ethics class the next morning.
It hadn’t ended the way I planned, and I was pretty sure my professor didn’t expect to spend his weekend reading about mob management practices, but I figured it was at least worth a B+. I’d written it while being kidnapped and shot at, so I deserved credit.
“How does it feel?” Frankie asked as I closed my laptop.
“How does what feel? The fact we survived multiple attacks, and you being tased? Pretty darn good.” Things were definitely messed up in your life when you made a joke about being tased.
He chuckled, not taking offense at my joke. “Actually, I was referring to how it felt to be done with the paper.”
My smile fell, but only for a fraction of a second. “Oh, that’s good too.”
Frankie had been on his phone watching videos while I worked, and now that I’d finished, he laid it on the desk. “But not as good as not being tasered.”
“I don’t know, since I’ve never allowed myself to be tasered. I have to defer to your judgment on that one.” Sarcasm dripped from my words, but my smile never slipped.
Frankie’s hand went to his heart. “Oh, Cara Mia. You wound me. I took the tasing for you.”
He said it lightheartedly, but the truth of the matter caused my smile to falter.
“Don’t remind me and don’t do anything so reckless again.”
“No promises, but I did get you a surprise,” he said.
I clapped my hands together, excited again. A surprise from a mob boss might be anything from jewelry to a dead body part.
“I love surprises.” Especially when they came from Frankie. He’d been surprising me since the day I met him, not only with his behavior and kind heart hidden beneath his tough exterior, but his cooking skills, and a closet full of clothing that he added a few pieces to every day. The most recent clothing additions were black dress pants after I mentioned them being my favorite. Of course, for every pair of pants were two dresses or skirts.
“You don’t seem like a woman who likes surprises. It’s a picture, but hopefully you’ll enjoy the sentiment behind it.”
I shrugged. “Well, I do as long as it’s something fun and cute and not kidnapped, gunshots, or a Taser.” I never felt the need to clarify in the past, but it seemed imperative then since not all surprises were equal. “You didn’t hurt my cousin. Right?” I asked, remembering Frankie’s promise. The last time he gave me a picture, it was two of my cousin’s men tied up at a train station.
He shook his head. “I have vowed never to hurt your cousin, and I’m a man of my word.”
It was the truth. Often times, men in his position had nothing to go on but their word. It meant everything to a good crime boss. “Then I want to see it.”
Frankie passed his phone to me, the picture already open and my “surprise” on full display. It was a photograph, much like the one he gave me earlier, leading me to question what I’d find if I went through Frankie’s phone. Did he photograph all his bad deeds? We also definitely needed a few relationship rules. No more pictures as gifts.
