Page 82 of Gravity of Love
Frankie blinked, then her lashes dipped. When she looked up again, the mischief was undiluted, but there was a note of surprise—maybe gratitude—swirled in.
“How did you—” she began but abandoned the thought midway. Instead, her mouth curled into the crooked smile that always used to get her out of trouble in school. “You know whatreallyworks to cure migraines? Orgasms.” She said it as plainly as telling him two plus two was four, her gaze holding his in challenge.
Liam’s body responded before he had a chance to think about whether or not it was a good idea. A deep, involuntary pulse radiated down his spine, settling thick behind his zipper.
“Fuck, Frankie,” he mumbled, she made it impossible to resist her.
“Good idea.” Her smile widened. “I think that’s just what the doctor ordered.”
He exhaled, lips thinning into something close to a grin. He doubted she saw the way his hands trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt, or maybe she did and loved it. He tugged the material from the waistband of his slacks, folding the sleeves as he set it on the counter. His fingers were methodical and patient, but his mind was an orchestrated storm. Every movement was a negotiation between the need to take care of her and the urge to take her apart. He wondered if she had any idea how close to the edge she’d pushed him tonight. How crazy it had made him to watch her on the dance floor.
Liam unfastened his belt with a flick and let it drop to the floor, the buckle’s metallic chime punctuating the silence. Then the zipper, the slow slide of teeth, the release. He stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside, and his wallet fell out, hitting the tile with a dull thud. He heard Frankie’s sharp inhale at the sight of him, and it made his pulse jump again, like a second heartbeat, as he hooked his thumbs under the band of his boxer-briefs and pushed them down and off.
She sat up straighter, water lapping over her breasts to make space for him. He started to step into the tub behind her, but Frankie reached for him first. Her hand curled around his shaft, fingers wrapping with more certainty than he expected, and for a split second, all the air left his lungs.
He watched her face transform, her usual defiance dissolved into focus as she stroked him. She was measured, drawing her palm up and down his length, and it was the single mostdestabilizing sensation of his life. He brought his hand to her cheek, cupping it, and she leaned into the touch, a sigh escaping her lips as she pressed her tongue to the head.
Frankie met his eyes as she wrapped her pretty lips around his swollen head and sucked him into her mouth, slowly and deliberately. The temperature contrast of her velvet tongue against the cool bathroom air was enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut. He felt her inhale through her nose, the hot, wet suction of her tongue cocooning him was both a relief and a torment. She hummed, sending vibration up his cock and into the base of his skull.
He tried to keep his composure, but her hand and mouth worked in tandem, and his control slipped. Liam placed a palm against the wall, anchoring himself as her pace increased, her tongue swirling with boldness. He looked down and saw her watching him, her pupils wide, cheeks hollowing as she drew him deeper. Her other hand braced against his thigh, fingers digging in as she gripped him, and that turned him on even more—the sting of her nails embedded in his skin.
Liam surrendered control for a few more seconds, savoring the slick sensation, but he knew this wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be about her. He slid his hand under her chin and gently coaxed her off the tip, leaving her lips with a soft pop.
“Frankie,” he rasped, her name a raw edge in the air. “Tonight isn’t about me.”
She rolled her eyes, her breath ragged. “You always did have a hero complex.”
He grinned. “Only foryou.”
With one fluid motion, he stepped into the tub behind her, lowering his body until the water closed over his waist and his legs framed hers. He pulled her back so that her spine pressed to his chest, he could feel every rapid beat of her heart. And for a moment, they just breathed together. He slid his arm aroundher, palm splayed low on her belly, the other hand coming up to stroke the wet hair away from her temple.
She relaxed into him—he felt her melt, her muscles going loose, her head lolling against his shoulder. Liam started with her neck, kneading the tension out with slow, circular motions. She rolled her head to give him better access, her eyes fluttering closed. He worked his way down to her shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots he knew so well, and she exhaled audibly, lips parting in a gasp. He kissed the crown of her head, a benediction, then trailed his lips down to her ear.
“Show me where it hurts,” he whispered against her. His voice was rougher than he meant it to be, and she shivered. “I’ll make it feel better.”
His hands found her breasts, slick with water, and he cupped them, thumbs stroking over the pebbled tips.
“Here?” he asked.
Frankie whimpered a soft,yes, hips shifting, and he felt her thighs tense against his. He let his other hand slide down, fingers slipping between her legs, learning the shape of her, the way her body arched into his touch. She was wet already, but not just from the bath—the heat pulsed under his fingers, a living thing.
“And here?” His voice was as gruff as sandpaper.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He circled her clit, slowly at first, then a little faster. Frankie made a sound in the back of her throat, halfway between a moan and a sigh. Her hands grasped his thighs as her hips rocked into his palm.
“Liam…” she said, but the rest of the sentence was lost to a moan as his fingers found a rhythm, stroking her in time with her breathing. She pressed her legs apart even further, utterly vulnerable, and he tried to vary the pressure and angle. He listened to her body, her soft gasps and the shiver in her thighs.He used his thumb to tease her pleasure nub, while his fingers massaged her opening.
When he pushed one finger inside of her, curling it at the knuckle and massaging her internally, she gasped, and her thighs trembled. He added another finger, curling both, and used the heel of his hand to apply pressure to her clit as his other hand pinched and twisted her nipples, working her body into a frenzy. He felt her start to unravel. The muscles in her abdomen coiled tight, and he sped up his rhythm, holding her steady as she bucked against his hand.
“That’s it,” he rasped against her ear, and she arched, digging her nails into his thigh so hard he was sure she’d leave marks. “Fuck my fingers. Come for me.”
And she did. Frankie came with a sharp, stuttering gasp, her back bowed against his chest, water splashing up onto the mat. She trembled as a wild and unfiltered sound dissolved into a whimper. He held her through it, arms wrapped around her small frame, until the final quivers faded and she sagged against him, boneless and content. He pressed another kiss to her temple.
He wasn’t sure if he’d cured her migraine, but if not, he was more than willing to try again.
Every part of Frankie’s body was alive with sensation. The way Liam treated her was as if she was both a precious, priceless piece of china that was fragile and needed to be handled with the utmost care but also whispered the most wonderfully dirty things to her as his hands were rough and not gentle with her. It was the best of both worlds.
