Page 123 of The Candlemaker

Frankie threw back her head and laughed as she pulled me the rest of the way to the second floor.We made it without any other interference, but we didn’t make it into our room before my mouth was back on hers.

We bumped and banged into walls and doors, our hands too busy unraveling our clothes to pay enough attention to our surroundings. I was panting by the time I closed our door, and Frankie’s dress had fallen so low on her shoulders, the edges of her nipples peeked out from the fabric.

“You’re incredible,” I rasped, drinking in the sight of her, my very own flushed Greek goddess.

“Chandler…”

I pulled her back into my arms, my mouth branding hers. Desire burned away space and clothes. It charred sounds and surroundings. It engulfed everything until there was nothing left but the way our bodies melted together. The way Frankie rose up over me, my hands roaming her stomach and breasts as she rode my cock hard, chasing the release we both needed.

Hopefully the music below hid the way she screamed.

“I love you, Mrs. Collins,” I said a little while later, the two of us lying in bed, listening—feeling—the happiness surrounding us.

“I love you, too, Mr. Collins,” she murmured, giving her ass a little wiggle where it was pressed against my cock.

I let out a low groan, feeling my body start to stiffen. “Frankie…”

“Do you think they’re wondering where we went?”

“Gigi has our excuse,” I grunted and pressed my lips to the corner of her neck. “We’re ghost hunting before the grand opening.”

“And if no one down there believes in ghosts?” She shivered and turned toward me.

I lowered my mouth to hers. “Then I guess I should make you scream again to prove that there are.”

The End.