Page 66 of Stitched Up in You
He sets me on my feet and steps back, leaving me reeling a bit as I lean a hip against the bathroom door. “Take off your shirt,” he rumbles.
A shudder rolls through me when he thrusts into his hand, the ball stud at the head of his dick glinting in the overhead lighting.
Hell yes, I want it. Who wouldn’t want it? Frank Stein’s dick is a masterpiece, thick and proud, at least three inches in diameter. I want to get a ruler to see if it will match up. He meets my gaze and smirks.
Sex with this man is going to be one for the books.
My hands trembling, I begin to undress for him and tear my shirt over my head uncaring where it lands, my chest rising and falling so much my breasts bounce.
I almost want to gloat with how his gaze seems latched to them as I back away and wait for his next edict as he wraps his towel around his waist.
“Go get on the bed.” He motions me toward the bedroom behind us with a wave of his hand.
I pout a little but bend to peel the rest of my leggings from my body, wondering what will happen next as I open the door and head to his bed.
It’s large and imposing in the center of the large, navy-blue room, his bedspread the same deep color as the walls.
I glance around and my nose wrinkles at the obvious lack of items in the room. There’s no furniture, just the bed, and I don’tknow how I didn’t notice before. Every other room has a dresser, a couple of chairs, and nightstands. Frank’s is empty.
The lights flare to life as he walks into the room and makes his way to bed where I sit, still in my panties and bra. He reaches out and touches my hip, goosebumps following his trailing touch. I watch and wait as he reaches for my ankles next and smooths his big palms over them, squeezing and kneading my flesh.
Moans begin to pour from me as he continues his ministrations until I’m a relaxed and wet mess spread across his mattress. My hips lift on their own every time his big palms move and slide across my erogenous zones, and the desire to mount him rises.
His hands are huge, easily engulfing me and feeling as if he’s touching me everywhere at once as he boldly caresses my body like I’m his and he’s trying to learn me in a night.
A finger skates under the cotton of my underwear and pleasure spikes as I close my gaze.
“Ahhhh, oh my god. What are you doing?” I ask, belly flipping like mad at the touch of something cold and slippery at my entrance.
One finger dips along my folds and skates across my clit before sinking slowly inside me. My hips tilt of their own accord for him and I shudder when his fat finger rubs across my g-spot.
“Something to make sure you survive the night. My cock is large, and you’re not. As much as I want to punish you for what you’ve done, I don’t want to break you,” he says, removing his finger.
I bite my lip, realizing how swollen and wet I now am. My legs quiver as I try to hold still under him as he pulls my underwear from me, his gaze never wavering from my center.
I haven’t shaved in over two weeks, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a waxing, but Frank doesn’t seem to mind, his nostrils flaring as he dips his head to lick me.
“Oh my god, yesss.” The sound is a hiss between my teeth as I lie back, letting my night with Frank Stein happen.
Chapter 25
FRANK N. STEIN
This ointment will relax her and let her tiny body accept all of me, if I can resist fucking her long enough to allow the concoction time to take effect. I smooth it across her folds, enjoying how her breath hitches before I lick down her center with my tongue, letting the edible serum relax me as well.
She of course has no idea the danger she’s in with how she’s provoking me.
“You’re taking too long,” she mutters, running her hands up her body and toying with her nipples.
“Enough of that,” I snap, and reach for her ankle, pulling her to the edge of the bed where I stand. I reach up and remove the glasses from her face before setting them on the bedside table.
Gripping her thick thighs, enjoying how they overflow my hands, I push her legs up, folding her and baring her pussy to my gaze. “Mmm, I could murder it for you alright.”
She yelps when I hold her immobile to the bed as I lathe the flat of my tongue across her clit, hard.
“No fair,” she whines, moans streaming from her lips as I nip and suck, using teeth and tongue to explore her.
My cock leaks fluid when a broken moan falls from her parted lips, and I bite back a groan as I snarl into her wet pussy.
