Page 4 of The Rival's Obsession
“You didn’t get on the fucking jet.”
I smirk, swirling the champagne in my glass with one hand while the other strokes lazily over my cock.
Across the room, Sam lowers himself over Kris—forearms braced on either side of her hips as he dives between her legs.
His mouth meets her pussy with focused hunger, and Kris arches off the bed with a sound that makes my cock twitch.
She doesn’t waste time, either.
Her hand wraps around his length, guiding him to her mouth.
There’s something poetic about it—her on her back, throat full, moaning around him as he eats her like it’s his last meal.
Filthy and fucking perfect.
Frankie’s still talking.
“Punching your oldest friend. Becoming a trending topic for all the wrong reasons. And now? Skipping your flight home like some jilted prom queen?”
“Hmm,” I hum, keeping my eyes on the show, hand working my cock—slow and steady. “I did promise myself a productive evening.”
“Dante.” Her voice cuts sharp, like a blade across silk.
I sigh, releasing my cock to snag a condom.
“Yes, Frankie?” I mutter around the wrapper as I rip off the corner with my teeth.
“You’ve got a charming little two a.m. flight now, courtesy of my ability to clean up your goddamn messes. You and Grant are expected in front of the board at eight a.m. sharp. In suits. With answers.”
I glance at the wall clock.
Eleven-oh-two p.m.
My toys are booked until sunrise.
“Plenty of time,” I murmur. “Tell the new jet I’ll be fashionably late. Or fashionably satisfied.”
Pinching the tip of the condom, I get it started over the head of my cock. Sam cuts his eyes—watching—before looking up at me, mouth still suctioned on Kris’s pussy for dear life.
Yes, pretty boy. I’m about to fuck the shit out of you.
“Try fashionably employed,” she snaps. “You miss this meeting, they’ll crucify both of you. And I’ll hand them the nails myself.”
My laugh is low, indulgent. “Noted.”
I roll the condom down the rest of my shaft’s length and stroke a few times, eyes fused on Sam.
“Anything else?” she deadpans.
“Yes, actually. I just had a lovely idea involving Sam, a mirror, and about three feet of silk.”
“Dante—”
“Goodnight, Frankie.”
I hang up before she can threaten my bloodline.
Downing the rest of the champagne, the glass clinks as I set it back down.
