Page 21 of Franco
"Franco," she breathes, the sound of my name on her lips sending heat straight to my cock.
I take my time with her body, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her fingers tighten in my hair. By the time my mouth reaches the waistband of her panties, she's trembling, her skin flushed with desire.
I look up, seeking confirmation. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her expression a mixture of desire and disbelief.
"Please," she whispers, the single word nearly undoing me.
I ease her black panties down her legs, adding them to the pile of discarded clothing on the floor. Then I settle between her thighs, my hands spreading her legs wider to accommodate me.
The scent of her arousal makes my mouth water, a primal response to her desire. I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then higher, working my way toward her wet pussy.
When I reach the apex of her thighs, I look up one more time, finding her watching me with wide, desire-darkened eyes. Maintaining eye contact, I lower my head and taste her for the first time.
The first stroke of my tongue draws a muffled cry from her, her thighs trembling on either side of my head. I grip her hips, holding her steady as I explore her with my mouth, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her push against me seeking more.
Her reactions guide me, the small sounds she tries to suppress, the way her body responds to my touch. I circle her clit with my tongue, feeling her jerk against me, then soothe the sensitive bud with gentle pressure.
"Franco," she gasps, one hand leaving my hair to cover her mouth, muffling her cries. "Oh god, Franco..."
Chapter 8 - Sarah
"Oh god, Franco..."
My words dissolve into breathless moans as his mouth works against me. I shouldn't be doing this. I know it. I promised myself after Tommy's father that I'd think twice before falling for someone again. Especially someone dangerous like Franco. Someone who could be present one day and gone the next, leaving me to pick up the pieces of my heart while explaining to my son why another man has vanished from our lives.
But in this moment, with his head between my thighs and pleasure coiling tight in my belly, I can't deny myself this. Can't deny the connection that's formed between us, a connection that feels more real than anything I've experienced since Tommy was born.
I grip his short dark hair, pulling him closer to me. He doesn't complain or pull away. Instead, he doubles his efforts, burying his face deeper in my wet pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of me.
He finds my entrance and circles it with the tip of his tongue, the sensation making my back arch off the bed. It's like he's preparing me for what's to come, taking his time to ensure I'm ready for him.
Without warning, he slides two long fingers inside me while his tongue returns to circle my clit. The dual sensation makes me tilt my head back, gripping the sheets with my free hand, panting like I've run a marathon. I've only been with one other man, Tommy's father, and he disliked giving oral pleasure, always rushing through it when he bothered at all. Franco is different. Not a selfish boy but a man—a relentless man with his fingersdigging into the flesh of my thighs as he devours me like I'm his last meal.
"Franco," I gasp again, feeling the tension building inside me, threatening to snap. "I'm going to—"
He increases the pressure, curling his fingers to hit my g-spot over and over again. The orgasm hits me like a freight train, my body arching, thighs trembling, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure crash through me. Franco doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down, drawing out my climax until I'm whimpering, oversensitive and trembling.
Only then does he ease back, pressing gentle kisses to my inner thighs as I come down from the high, my chest heaving with each breath. When I finally manage to focus again, I find him watching me, his eyes fierce and intense, his lips wet with my arousal.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. "Any regrets?"
I can't help but laugh, the sound breathy and weak in the aftermath of pleasure. "Do I look like I have regrets?"
"I don't know," he admits, surprising me with his honesty. "I'm not exactly the type of guy women usually go for."
I prop myself up on my elbows, studying him as he kneels between my legs, still fully dressed except for his shirt while I'm completely naked and trembling from his attentions.
"You have no idea what women want, do you?" I say, feeling bold in my post-orgasmic haze. "A handsome, dangerous man who can also be gentle? That's very charming."
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and my pussy throbs in response. God, just his facial expressions turn me on. What is happening to me?
"I'll show you how charming I can be," he says, rising from the bed.
I watch, mesmerized, as he undresses quickly, revealing more of his scarred, muscular body. Each mark on his skin tells a story of violence and survival, a physical record of the life he's led. When he's down to just his briefs, I can't tear my eyes away from the impressive outline of his cock straining against the fabric.
Without thinking, I reach out, grabbing the hem of his briefs and pulling them down. His cock springs free, almost slapping my face in the process, and my eyes widen. He's big—impressively, intimidatingly big—and thick, the head already glistening. I gulp dryly and wrap my hand around him, my fingers not even reaching halfway around his girth.
"Are you sure you can take all of it?" Franco asks, a hint of concern in his voice despite the desire in his eyes.
