Page 39 of Tame Me

My insides clenched, begging for that cock to plunge into me. I raised my hips off the bed and glided my finger over my clit. The very first touch had skyrockets shooting me to the stars. Frankie had my body on fire, and he’d barely touched me yet.

A pearl of semen glistened like a dazzling diamond at the head of his crown. My breath caught, and my insides fluttered, adding depth to my growing orgasm. “Do you have a condom?”

His eyes snapped to focus, and before he even spoke, I knew he didn’t.

“Grab my bag.” I pointed at my tote hanging over the chair.

As he strode away, I admired the bulge and flex of the lovely firm muscles of his ass. When he turned, his cock pointed right at me, erect and proud. He handed my bag over, and I plucked a condom from the side zipper and handed it to him. He tore it open and glided the rubber over his erection.

I wriggled up the bed, giving him room to join me. Veins coursed along his biceps as he crawled my way and paused above me. I wrapped my legs around him, positioning the swollen head of his cock at my opening.

As he pushed his hips forward and drove his cock into me, his eyes were slightly glazed, as if lost to another world. I clawed his back as he filled me with his thick, hot hard-on. As Frankie thrust in and out, I curled my ass up off the bed in time with his movements.

We worked as one, drawing out each other’s pleasure in the most primal way possible.

His thrusts grew faster, deeper. I pulled on my knees, raising my bottom higher and allowing him to plunge deeper still. His mouth was ajar, drawing rapid breaths. His eyes rolled, no longer seeing. And his thrusts were a perfect combination of speed and depth.

The sensations running through me, from deep inside my pussy to every inch of my body, were amazing. My orgasm clawed to fever pitch, begging to explode, and when Frankie stopped, clenched his jaw, and released a low growl that tumbled from deep in his throat, I braced for the finale.

With a gasp, Frankie’s eyes shot open, and his hips plunged and withdrew as his cock drove into me over and over. My orgasm released, scattering thousands of delicious pulses through my body, and drawing out a long, exquisite climax. Together, we rode a beautiful, wild, primal moment that had both of us gasping for air.

It was an eternity before Frankie’s gorgeous green eyes found mine again, and when they did, I was once again lost in their purity. He smiled as he slumped to my side, and I rolled toward him.

He curled a lock of my hair behind my ear. It was such a sweet gesture that I was nearly brought to tears. “Well, that was a lovely surprise.” His voice was a macho baritone.

“I agree.”

“Can you thank your friend for me? What was her name?”

For some reason, the fact that he didn’t remember Lolita’s name pleased me. She was a very memorable woman. “Lolita.”

He nodded. “That’s right.” When he ran his hand through his hair, my eyes swooped to his tattoo.

“Did someone break your heart?” I snapped my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry—you don’t need to answer that. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay.” He placed his hand on my cheek and sighed. He lowered his eyes as if searching deep into his soul for the best way to answer. I sensed that whatever he was about to tell me had hurt him very, very much, and I put my therapy hat on, hoping I reacted appropriately to his response. When his sad eyes met mine, my heart squeezed.

“My sister committed suicide a couple of years ago after a nasty breakup with her boyfriend.”

“Oh God, Frankie. I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I have this tattoo so people I’m close to ask me about it. The wounds after she left cut very deep. I like talking about it. These things should be talked about, not hidden beneath a façade.”

I rolled onto his shoulder and draped my arm over this complete stranger. His story resonated so deeply with me.

For what seemed like an eternity, we remained in each other’s arms, and it was only when I thought of Lolita doing my job at reception, that I forced myself to get moving again. Pulling away from him tugged at my heart, but I was also eternally grateful to have spent time with this wonderful man. I crawled off the bed and turned to him. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Frankie from Wild Horses.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you too, Memphis, my amorous filly.”

I burst out laughing. His retort was the perfect way to end our encounter. I redressed and grabbed my bag. When I turned to him, he was still on the bed, on his side, with the sheet draped around his hips and the silver cross around his neck nestled next to his right nipple.

I blew him a kiss. “Good night.”

He tipped an imaginary hat. “Sweet dreams.”

Smiling, I strode to the door, walked out, and floated to the elevator as if I was walking on air. When I arrived at my room, I was shocked to note that I’d only been gone for forty minutes; it’d seemed like so much more. I undressed, removed my wig and makeup, and showered.

Then I dressed in my work clothes again. Before I went downstairs, I grabbed my diary, turned to the 27th of October, and wrote Frankie from Wild Horses Room 35 at the top.

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