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“You’ll have to mark me too,” she says, pushing my shirt up as far as it will go and passing her palms over my chest. Her nails drag delicately over my abdomen, building my anticipation to a fever pitch before she wraps both hands around my length.
Pent up as I am, I’m surprised to find I last through her teasing and jerking my cock.
“You’ve been dying to come all over me, haven’t you?”
I can’t even summon a reply.
She’s always had me in the palm of her hand, but the feeling is literal now. Pre-cum leaks from the tip as my length twitches and my hips buck in response to her toying with me.
I choke on a moan when she grinds her soaked cunt against the base of my cock, grasping the remaining length and pumping. Every inch of my cock is assaulted by sweet pressure, making me a slave to her every motion. My gaze is torn between the place where our bodies slide together and the focused expression on her face as she works me into a frenzy.
I clamp my hands to her hips, pulling her down to increase the heavenly feeling of her cunt’s heat. How I dream of being inside her, how I crave that friction between us…
“Francesca,” I groan as my mind turns to mush. “Spirit save me; don’t stop!”
She doesn’t let up for a moment, starting to moan as the act of dragging her pearl over my shaft freshly arouses her. Her dark brown tresses are a tangled mess. Nothing could be more beautiful than her shivering body giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously.
Seeing her in this erotic state sends me reeling over the edge. My precious beauty is worth every cycle of waiting, every interval of yearning. I’d wait a decade longer for her affection, for this perfect bliss.
I explode in her hands, splashing my seed in an arc that lands on her breasts and silky top.
She leans down to kiss me, sinking her fingers into my curls as we briefly lose ourselves in each other’s lips.
There’s a dazed smile on her face as she tugs the crumpled blouse over her head and wipes my cum off her chest with it.
“You seem like you might come again with a bit of effort,” I say.
“Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Yes,” I admit. “But for you, I would—”
She kisses the tip of my nose, and I forget what the end of my sentence was.
“Let’s sleep,” she says. “You look like you’ll pass out any second.”
We each take private moments to prepare. I clean myself off and see to my nightly hygiene while she changes into a new set of pajamas. We she returns, she slides bed beside me just as I’m settling in. I fight the hesitations I’ve drilled into my body and reach out to her. Now I can wrap my arms around her, press my face into her hair, soak in her scent mixing with my own. She accepts my touches and when I release her, she sighs with satisfaction, nestling into her pillow.
“After waiting all that time to have me, I hope it was everything you’ve been dreaming about,” she says, her voice gravelly with a need for sleep.
“It was everything and more,” I tell her, resting my eyes at last. “I can die satisfied now. My ashes will be yours then, as my body is in life.”
I feel the sting of her hand whacking my stomach.
“Don’t say such a thing!” she protests.
My coughs turn to laughter.
“Drama king,” she grumbles in the dark. “You can’t die anytime soon.”
“You’ll miss me too much?” I ask, amused.
“I’ve grown rather attached to you.”
As we fall asleep side by side, legs brushing under the blanket we share, I distantly realize that my dagger’s been forgotten. But the darkness takes me quickly, and I won’t be needing that old blade tonight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FRANKIE
