Frankie’s hand shook as he pulled the shirt over his head. When he discarded the garment onto the floor between our feet, I looked down at it and back up at him, subtly shaking my head. He bent down, allowing me a moment to check out his ass yet again. It was a fine ass, one that deserved to be worshipped. And if he’d allow it someday, reddened, because my gut told me that would be what allowed him to soar to great heights. There would be no need to use implements, but someday, I would use my hand on his bare ass.
He fumbled with the button on his jeans, and I reached out to steady him. “It’s okay if you’re having second thoughts. I don’t want you doing this because you think it’s what I want.”
“I’m not,” he promised me, his voice wavering slightly. “I think I need this. It wasn’t something I ever thought I’d be interested in, but the more I read, the more I pictured us in various scenarios.”
That was encouraging news. “Care to share something you’re particularly eager to try?”
Frankie pushed the pants over his hips and allowed them to pool around his ankles. When he picked them up and tossed them into the laundry hamper, I nodded my approval. His hard prick was already leaking, leaving a damp spot at the front of his tight boxer briefs. I licked my lips and willed myself to stay in control no matter how much I wanted to drop to my knees before him. His face flushed with embarrassment under my appraisal, but to his credit, he made no move to cover up.
“I asked you a question, brat,” I reminded him. He simply shook his head in response. “There’s nothing you want to try?”
“I…” His voice trailed off as he mumbled his answer.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” I took Frankie’s hand and led him to the edge of the bed. My senses were assaulted with temptation. Seeing his nearly bare chest up close, I realized he must wax it. I didn’t understand the habit, but I could definitely appreciate not wanting to hide the body he worked hard to maintain. It was a stark contrast to the trail of dark hair guiding my attention from his navel straight down to his erection. And damn, was that an impressive sight. The musky scent of his arousal was intoxicating.
“I want you to show me what you want,” he repeated with a bit more certainty this time. “You said you wanted to help me let go, so do it. Help me. Don’t make me think.”
Frankie’s surrender was something I would never make light of, but he’d just uttered the perfect plea for me to stop holding back.
8
Frankie
“You’ll have to be quiet,”Calvin reminded me. He pressed his hand over my mouth as he pushed me onto the mattress. Goddamn, that shouldn’t have been so hot, but my dick twitched against the cotton of my underwear, my balls aching for release. “I want you to lay down and keep your hands under your head on the pillow.”
That didn’t seem so bad. I was grateful Calvin hadn’t suggested restraining me. That was still something I wasn’t sure I could do. I needed to be able to push him away if the situation got too intense, wanted to be able to reach out for him as I came. Except, he’d told me to keep my hands between my head and the pillow, and I didn’t want to know what he’d do if I failed.
I did as Calvin instructed and held my breath while he joined me on the bed, disappointed that I wasn’t going to see his tattoos on display again. I bit back a moan as his fingers trailed too lightly down the center of my chest. Arched my back off the bed, willing him to go lower. He pushed firmly on my hip.
“Stay still or we’ll stop,” he warned. “Close your eyes.”
His voice was low and soothing. I did as he instructed, despite how badly I wanted to watch what he was doing to me. Without the benefit of sight, every touch of his hands on my body sent a jolt through my body. I resisted the urge to squirm as he lightly caressed my sides, wishing I’d warned him how ticklish I was. When I felt his tongue flick over my nipple, I gasped, then moaned. Fuck, that felt good. I couldn’t remember the last time sex had been about anything other than getting off. I’d damn sure never laid perfectly still while someone else worshipped my body. And that was the only way to describe what he was doing to me.
“Such a good boy,” he praised. I tensed briefly, my gut reaction being to remind him I wasn’t a boy, but something more primal took over and I felt uncharacteristic peace. I wanted to be a good boy. Wanted to behisgood boy.
While Calvin alternated between flicking his tongue over my left nipple and sucking it into his mouth, he took the right between his fingers. Pinching, caressing, slowly squeezing. My cock ached from the lack of attention, and yet weeped because I was so turned on. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” That was the wrong answer, apparently, because Calvin lifted his head and pinched both nipples. Hard. That fucking hurt!
“Would you like to try again?” he asked, slowly kissing a trail down my sternum. I’d have done anything in that moment, if only to keep him on his path toward my dick. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. I had an idea of what he wanted from me, but that was one step I wasn’t ready to take. I rolled the words around in my head, but couldn’t make them pass my lips.
“Please Cal, keep going,” I begged. “I’m so turned on right now. Please, don’t stop.” Tears formed in my eyes, praying that’d be enough, that we could get through this and then talk about my hang-ups.
“What’s wrong?” Cal reached up and wiped a tear away from my cheek. Before my mind could process what was happening, I was sitting up, leaning against Calvin’s body. “I told you to tell me if I did something you didn’t like. This is supposed to be fun, not leave you in tears.”
“And it was great, but then I ruined the moment.” God, what was happening to me? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten emotional, and yet I was on the verge of full-blown tears over a guy trying to get me off?
“You haven’t ruined anything,” he reassured me. Calvin pressed his lips to my temple, and I began to relax. “Let’s walk through what was going through your mind right before you started to get upset and go from there.”
I didn’t want to talk about this. Calvin was drop-dead gorgeous. He knew what he wanted, and he’d been up front with me from the word go. He could easily go to a club and find a willing sub who’d have no problem calling him Sir or Master. I relaxed a bit more when I felt Calvin’s strong arms around my waist, holding me tight against his body so I couldn’t run away.
“In order for this to work, both of us have to be into it. And maybe I was wrong when I thought you would be if you just got a taste of what it could be like. I shouldn’t have assumed I knew what was best for you and I’m sorry for that,” he apologized. I rested my hands on top of his and gave them a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t apologize,” I told him. “I’m glad you saw something, because I think you might be right. But the shit running through my head, it was intense and all jumbled around. I don’t want to upset you, but there are some things that are going to take me some time.”
“Such as?” he prodded when my thoughts trailed off. Every kiss along my jaw or casual swipe of his thumb across my stomach soothed me. “I’m willing to take as long as you need, Frankie. And if we do this and you decide it’s not something you want, we’ll figure it out.”
“I wouldn’t want you to do that.” I turned onto my side so I could rest my head against his chest. His heartbeat lulled me. “If you can deal with me freaking out along the way, I’d like to keep going. But I can’t call you Sir or anything like that. It’s too much for me.”
