Page 61 of Justice for Francesca

Laughter spilled out with each interchange between them.

“Take it back!”

“Okay, I take it back. Seven inches.”

“Fuck that noise. You know I meant the other way. Take it back, or else!”

“Or else, what? I’m wounded. You wouldn’t so much as tickle me with these stitches.”

“Take it back, or I’ll take my dick back.”

“How do you take a dick back?”

“You hurt his feelings.”

“Dicks don’t have feelings!”

“This one is certainly feeling something.”

He was holding her still, but she consciously didn’t struggle as she knew if she got too physical, he’d stop everything out of fear for her. It felt so good to be with him like this. There was no way she wanted this to end. To hear him laughing and teasing instead of watching him wallow in pain and misery was the best healing.

Tears were leaking out of her eyes. “Stop! Stop! Oh my god, I’m going to pee if you don’t stop! It hurts! I can’t breathe! Stop! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Shit! Did I reopen your stitches?” The look on his face was pure horror as he gently rolled her onto her back and straddled her to turn on the light at the bedside. His fingers immediately went to her side, his eyes surveying the bandage, lifting the edges to check the wound.

“I’m saying ‘Ow’ because it hurt to laugh.”

Satisfied she hadn’t popped a stitch, he frowned from up above her. “Hmph. That’ll teach you to denigrate my manhood.”

Now she was howling with laughter. “Denigrate your manhood? Who says that? The Marines taught the lowly Navy medic some fancy words?”

His eyes were filled with laughter now, which is what she wanted. Everyday Ethan was soft and warm. She hadn’t seen this playful side of him since their days at The Library.

“Ready to give in?”

“Never!” she shrieked with laughter.

“No? Never? Huh? Ready to submit to your lord and master?” Instead of letting up, he crawled further up her body. “Are you ready to apologize, huh? Ready to apologize to my dick for making him feel small?”

“Do you want me to look him in the eye as I apologize?”

His mouth dropped open at her lewd suggestion, and then he howled with laughter. “I cannot believe you just made that joke.”

She shrugged her shoulders, her laughter subsiding to giggles now that she was no longer gasping for air. Tripoli chose to use the time and position to his advantage. He slid down her body, now straddling her upper thighs, the playful look in his eyes turning to smoldering heat.

“Turn over, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Gently, he helped her turn onto her stomach. The new position allowed his cock to neatly tuck itself in between her ass cheeks. Her head in profile on the remaining pillow on the bed, she looked up and behind at him. Okay. Maybe he was more than eight inches, maybe not. Didn’t matter. He knew how to use it earlier in a rush, so she bet he’d really know how to use it when he wasn’t mindless with need.

His mouth was doing something heavenly down her back. His lips were involved, but also his tongue and his teeth. If he was leaving marks, he clearly had the presence of mind to leave them somewhere no one would see them.

“Ethan?”

“Yes, Francesca?”

“What are you intending to do with that?”

He hummed into her skin. “Intending to do with what?”

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