Page 15 of Tempting Frankie
“Fuck, Francesca,” he groans, picking up the pace. “The things you do to me. Got me feeling like a fucking twenty-one-year-old again.”
His free hand roams over my body, caressing my curves with reverence. I shiver as his fingers trail across my soft belly, dipping into my navel as he drags my dress up before sliding up to cup my boob.
“God, look at these gorgeous things,” Alexander growls, pinching my nipple and making me gasp. “Fucking perfect.”
I squirm under his heated gaze, fighting the urge to cover myself. But the raw hunger in his eyes makes me feel sexy as hell.
“That's it, baby,” he pants, jerking himself faster. “Show me those curves. Let me eye-fuck every inch that I own.”
Emboldened by his words, I arch my back, pushing my chest out. I run my hands down my sides, over the swell of my hips. “You really think they’re beautiful?” I ask breathlessly.
“Fuck yes,” Alexander snarls. “Every goddamn inch of you. Gonna show you just how fucking pretty you are.”
His hand is flying over his cock now, muscles tensing as he chases his release. I lick my lips, mesmerized by the sight of his arms flexing with each stroke.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts, his rhythm faltering. “Gonna cum all over that sexy belly. Mark you as mine on the outside also.”
The first rope of cum splatters across my stomach, hot and thick. I gasp at the sensation as Alexander keeps pumping, painting my skin with his release.
“That's it,” he groans, milking every last drop onto me. “So fucking gorgeous covered in me.”
I'm panting, skin tingling where his cum landed. Whoa, that was fucking hot. Alexander's still breathing hard as he looks down at me, a possessive glint in his eye.
“Mine,” he growls, reaching out to smear his release across my belly. His strong hands massage it into my skin, paying special attention to the soft rolls I've always been self-conscious about.
I watch, transfixed, as Alexander stands up and starts stripping. Holy fuck, never thought watching a man strip would be so sexy, but it is. His clothes hit the floor one by one until he's standing there naked, and I swear my jaw drops. For a guy on the other side of fifty, he's built like a Greek god. Broad shoulders, chiseled abs, thick muscular thighs. And that cock is still big.
Seriously, fuck me.
“Like what you see, pretty girl?” he smirks, catching me staring.
I nod dumbly, unable to form words. How the hell does a man his age look this good? And why the fuck does he want my ass?
Alexander chuckles, clearly enjoying my slack-jawed ogling. “I'll take that as a yes.” He stretches languidly, muscles rippling, and I have to clench my thighs together. Fuck, I'm getting wet again already.
“Stay right there,” he orders, voice rough. “I’m going to take care of you.”
I watch his perfectly tanned ass as he pads out of the room. A minute later, he's back with two bottles of water and my clutch.
“Here,” he says, handing me a bottle. “Drink up. Can't have you getting dehydrated.”
I gulp down half the bottle, suddenly parched. When I lower it, I find Alexander's eyes roaming over my body. His gaze lingers on my soft belly, still sticky with his cum.
“Fucking stunning,” he growls, reaching out to trail his fingers through the mess. I shiver at his touch. “Look at you, all marked up as mine.”
My body shivers at his possessive tone. Fuck, what is it about this man that turns me into such a needy slut? I should be freaking out right now. All I can think about is how badly I want him to fuck me again. Is cock drunk a thing? If it isn’t, it should be because that’s definitely what I am right now.
Alexander hands me my clutch. “What's this for?” I ask, confused.
He smirks. “Thought you might want a hair tie. Didn't wanna go digging through your things without permission, but figured you'd want to put that hair up before bed.”
“Oh.” I blink, caught off guard by the surprisingly thoughtful gesture. “Thanks, I guess.”
I rummage through my bag, finding an elastic. As I start pulling my messy waves into a bun, reality comes crashing back. What the fuck am I doing? I didn’t even question him; just did the thing he said.
He’s got me dickmatized already, and honestly, I should be insulted on my own behalf.
“Um, I should probably head home soon,” I mutter, not meeting his eyes.
