Page 84 of Stitched Up in You
“I don’t like this,” Frank complains.
I shrug my shoulders and tut at him. “It’s going to be fine. My favorite etiquette teacher was an ex-spy, I’ve had all the training for this little affair I need, trust me,” I say, pulling my phone from the plush seat next to me to check the time.
I messaged Aubrey to fill her in on what I’ve been up to this past week the moment I got my phone back. I’ve got plans of calling her as soon as we leave this shindig since she made me promise to let her know how it went. Although she didn’t seem that shocked learning I’m kind of into Frank, she bitched forever about my not calling her back and was worried Frank was being an asshole and had done something horrible to me.
I glance up at the big ass in question, wondering at how different he is now.
The notion that I could be in this alone and somehow my mind is tricking me into thinking I can sense Frank’s emotions sends my stomach somersaulting in revulsion. I’m half scared to ask him on the chance he tells me it’s all in my head. I’ve started so many times to ask if he can feel something between us, but something is making me hesitate.
“What’s wrong?” he asks suddenly, his gaze skating over mine in concern.
“Nothing,” I reply, an idea forming as I notice the partition is closed, and knowing Frank, this car is soundproofed.
Excitement flushes through me for an entirely new reason at the thought of making Frank more comfortable before we arrive. Carefully pulling my dress up to my knees, I slide from my seat to the floorboard.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“How long till we get there?” I ask, ignoring his question.
He rolls his wrist to see his watch. “Another twenty minutes,” he replies.
I reach up between his legs for his shirt. “Want to help me out here?” I ask when he doesn’t move.
He sighs like I’m forcing him to do something terrible, but does as I ask and pulls his shirt free of his pants before meeting my gaze.
“The pants too, Frank,” I snap.
I bite my lip as one side of his mouth curves into a soft smile, and he tugs his thick cock free of his black suit pants.
It falls to his lap, and my mouth begins to water a bit. Looking up at him, I wet my lips and grip him with one hand, liking the way his gray gaze goes foggy as he watches me. His dick thickens as I begin to jack him in my fist lightly, gripping his knee in my other hand.
I bend down and lick the head of him, swirling my pierced tongue around his big, pierced cock. I wrap my other hand around him, using my tongue and mouth to pleasure him, knowing if I really try to suck him down, it’ll ruin my makeup so bad a touchup won’t cover it. At least this way I’ll get a chance to make him feel good and maybe calm him down some in the process.
He looks so handsome in his black suit and tie, it really doesn’t take much for me to want him in every hole I can manage.
He groans, a low animalistic sound, and I smile around the head of his dick when his hand tries to cup my face. I tense upwhen he grabs me by the shoulders as the limo takes one sharp curve, but don’t let up, twisting him in my grip until I can sense him grow even thicker in my palms.
“I’m about to—” he says.
A hard spurt hits the roof of my mouth as I try to suck him down, hollowing my cheeks and drinking him in as he comes in thick ropes. His hands bite harder into my shoulders as he thrusts up, as if he’s unable to keep from doing it, harsh grunts pouring from his mouth.
I pull free and grin up at his relaxed expression, his gaze half-mast and heavy as orange light glows behind them. Warmth and affection flood through my sternum and I bite my lip hard to keep from asking him about it.
“Aww look who’s all relaxed now. I call that a job well done,” I say, grabbing a tissue from the nearby compartment I found earlier to dab at my mouth as I get off my knees and slide onto the seat beside him.
“You’re never working for anyone else again,” he mutters, tossing one arm over his face as he leans back in the seat, his dick still out and glistening from my ministrations.
I laugh as he raises up and begins to adjust himself, tucking his cock back in his pants. Once he’s done, one big arm curls around me tugging me closer to him and contentment like I’ve never felt flows through me.
His hand squeezes at my ruby-clad thigh. “Here, let me–”
“Nope, you'll ruin my makeup,” I tell him, pushing him away before he gets it in his head to reciprocate.
I smile up at him when he relaxes back into the seat and ropes his big arm over the back of the seat again, draping his hand across me.
I tried love only once while in college, and after getting my heart swiftly broken, I realized men, for most part, will say one thing and do another to get whatever they want. I swore to neverallow myself to be hurt the same way again, but with Frank, it’s different. It’s the kind of scary I’ve not experienced, and that I’m afraid I’ll never want to end.
I put my hand in his, toying with his fingers, noticing how they’re easily three times the size of mine. He makes me feel so small and dainty.
