Chapter 209

~ Franklin ~

"Franklin," she said, a warning in her voice, but she was already smiling.

"Whatever you want baby, anything." I said, still intoxicated with her presence and smell. She was driving me crazy.

"What about the house?" she asked, looking around nervously. "Olga? Grandpa? The staff?"

"Tonight..." I pulled her closer, my lips nearly touching hers. "Tonight is just us."

She bit her lip, that expression I loved so much crossing her face. The one that said she wanted to protest but didn’t actually want to.

"You’re impossible," she whispered.

"I know," I said. "But you love me anyway."

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she kissed me again, soft and sweet and full of promise.

And I knew that this night, this moment, was going to be one of the best of my life.

The kiss deepened, slow and lingering, like we had all the time in the world. Octavia’s lips were soft and warm against mine. I cupped her face gently, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone as I savored the way she melted into me.

"Come on," I murmured against her mouth, my voice low and husky. "Let’s go upstairs."

She nodded, eyes sparkling with that mix of shyness and desire I adored.

I closed the door behind us with a soft click, then turned to her. "You’re beautiful," I said.

Octavia’s cheeks flushed deeper. She stepped closer, helping me out of my shirt with tender fingers. "I want to celebrate you too," she whispered.

Clothes fell away slowly, her blouse, my pants, until we were skin to skin. I eased back against the pillows, propping my bad leg on a cushion she quickly arranged for me.

I pulled her close, our bare chests pressing together. Her heart beat fast against mine. I kissed her again, deeper this time, my hand sliding down the smooth curve of her back to rest at the dip of her waist. "I love you, Octavia," I breathed between kisses. "Every part of you. The way you fight for what you want. The way you light up my life."

She shivered under my touch, her fingers tracing the lines of my chest, avoiding the areas still tender from past strains. "I love you too Franklin."

Our mouths met again, tongues dancing in a slow, sensual rhythm. I took my time exploring her with my hands, cupping the soft weight of her breasts, teasing her nipples until they peaked under my thumbs.

She arched into me with a soft gasp, her own hands wandering lower, wrapping around me with a gentle firmness that made me groan into her mouth. The heat between us built steadily, not rushed, but inevitable.

Because of my leg, I couldn’t flip her beneath me the way I might have before the injury. Instead, I guided her with words and touches. "Straddle me, love," I whispered, my voice thick with want. "I want to feel all of you."

Octavia’s eyes darkened with desire as she carefully positioned herself over my hips, mindful of my injured leg extended to the side. She braced her hands on my chest, leaning down to kiss me as she lowered herself slowly onto me.

The sensation was exquisite warm, tight, enveloping. We both moaned at the connection, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling.

For a long moment, we stayed like that, joined completely, simply feeling each other. I ran my hands up her thighs, over her hips, admiring the way her body looked perfect. "You feel incredible," I told her, my voice rough. "Move for us, Octavia. Take what you need."

She began to rock gently at first, finding a rhythm that worked for both of us. Her movements were graceful, controlled, rolling her hips in waves that sent sparks of pleasure through me. I met her as best I could with small thrusts from below, one hand gripping her waist while the other caressed her breasts, her neck, her face. Every sigh she made, every flutter of her eyelids, deepened my love for her.

The pace quickened naturally. Octavia’s breaths turned to soft whimpers, then louder moans as she found the perfect angle. I watched her, mesmerized, the way her head tipped back, exposing the elegant line of her throat, the way her dark hair spilled over her shoulders.

"That’s it, baby," I encouraged, my thumb finding that sensitive spot between us to circle gently. "Let go for me. I’ve got you."

Her rhythm grew more urgent, hips grinding down with increasing need. I could feel her tightening around me, her body responding so beautifully to every touch. Sweat glistened on her skin. I sat up slightly, careful with my leg, to capture one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking and licking as she rode me. The change in position drew a sharp cry from her lips.

"Franklin... oh God..." Her voice broke, growing louder, unrestrained. The house was ours tonight, and I wanted her to feel free to let everything out.

I kept my touches loving, worshipful, stroking her back, whispering praises against her skin. "You’re so perfect." My fingers worked faster against her, matching her movements. The pressure built between us like a tide rising higher and higher.

Octavia’s moans turned to cries, sharp and beautiful. Her body tensed, thighs trembling around me. "I’m... I’m close... Franklin!"

"Come for me, love," I urged, my own pleasure coiling tight. "Let me feel you."

She shattered with a scream that echoed through the room, raw, joyful, full of release. Her body clenched around me in powerful waves, and I felt her squirt, warm and sudden, soaking us both as she rode out the orgasm.

The sight and sensation of her like that—head thrown back, mouth open in ecstasy, completely lost in pleasure, pushed me over the edge too. I groaned her name, holding her hips as I spilled inside her, the connection profound and intimate.

But we weren’t done. I held her through the aftershocks, kissing her deeply as she trembled. When her breathing slowed, I smiled up at her. "Again," I whispered. "I want to see you like that again."

She laughed breathlessly, leaning down to kiss me with renewed passion. We shifted carefully, me staying mostly on my back, her staying in control. This time, I guided her to face away from me, reverse, so she could lean forward slightly and I could watch the beautiful arch of her back. My hands roamed her curves freely, one slipping around to touch her while she moved.

The second build was slower, more teasing. I savored every gasp, every roll of her hips. "You’re stunning like this," I told her, voice filled with awe. "Taking me so well. So beautifully."

Octavia’s cries grew again, louder this time, uninhibited. She reached back to grip my hand for balance as the pleasure mounted. When she came a second time, it was even more intense, her scream filling the room, her body pulsing and squirting once more in a gush that left us both slick and breathless. I followed her over, the shared climax binding us closer.

Afterward, I pulled her down beside me, careful with my leg as I wrapped her in my arms. Our skin was damp, hearts racing in sync. I kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her lips, soft, reverent kisses.

"That was perfect," I murmured, stroking her hair. "You are perfect."

She nestled closer, one leg draped gently over mine, avoiding the injury. "I feel so loved," she whispered, her voice husky from screaming.

Every touch, every cry, every shared breath reminded me how lucky I was to have her. Hours later, as she drifted toward sleep in my arms, I held her tighter.

This woman, she is my everything.