Page 60 of A Shot at Love
Jules was practically buzzing beneath Frankie’s touch and the satisfaction Frankie got from knowing she was the one making this incredible woman feel this way was nearly overwhelming.
Her hands fell back to Jules’ open legs and she gently squeezed her thighs before skirting her fingers lightly across warm peach skin, her fingers dipping inwards, going just far enough before stopping and leaning back when she felt Jules tense.
“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop? If something is too much?”
Jules nodded, her lips parted in anticipation and Frankie smiled then dropped her head back to the breasts she was already very attached to. She lapped at each nipple again, alternating between soft suckling and flicking lighting with her tongue, using Jules’ change in breathing as a sign that told her what felt the best, what she reacted to the most.
Frankie pulled away again, just long enough to lift her head and capture Jules’ lips in a tender kiss, one that conveyed far more than just simple attraction and want.
Because Jules was so much more than that to Frankie. Jules was the woman who had captured her heart in ways she never saw coming but was so grateful for. She was the person she wanted to see at the end of a long day, the person who could say her name a certain way and settle whatever quiet storm was circling inside of her.
Somewhere along the way, Jules had become her favourite person, and that deserved a tenderness she’d never shared with anyone else.
Frankie slipped her tongue into Jules’ mouth slowly and slid a hand between her legs, lightly tracing the edge of the thin slip of fabric covering where she knew Jules wanted her the most.
She knew because of the way Jules trembled, their kiss breaking for a half second before she captured Frankie’s lips again, and when Frankie brushed her thumb up Jules’ slit, she could feel her wetness. It soaked through the silky material and the warmth of it made Frankie’s head spin.
“Fuck, Jules,” she whispered. “You’re so wet.”
“It’s safe to say you know what you’re doing,” Jules whimpered with a laugh.
“All of this for me?” Frankie marveled, looking down between their bodies at her finger as she slid it up and down again. The touch made Jules jerk and Frankie smirked as she tugged at the elastic of the panties. It was a silent question, she wanted them gone, and Jules lifted her hips up so Frankie could tug the article of clothing over her hips and down her legs.
She threw the underwear over her shoulder and fixed her eyes on the wetness between Jules’ legs. Her clit was already swollen, waiting to be touched, and the sight of it was intoxicating.
Frankie licked her lips. She couldn’t wait anymore. They’d been waiting for so long, dancing around each other with heated looks, with weighted compliments and unspoken desire and Frankie didn’t want to waste another second.
She lifted her eyes to Jules’ face, needing one last conformation before she got what she wanted, and Jules smiled at her.
“Can I taste you?” Frankie asked.
“Yes,” Jules answered, falling back against the mattress and gripping the bedspread.
That was all the confirmation Frankie needed and then she got to work.
Shimmying back a little from the bed, she spread Jules’ open even more. Jules was bare, all soft and shaved, not that Frankie had any issues with pubic hair, but it made it easy to set her sights on what she wanted the most.
She dipped her head and pressed a kiss to the inside of each thigh before darting her tongue out and licking up from her entrance to her clit. She repeated the motion, gathering more of the salty sweetness on her tongue and her lips and then she flicked her tongue over Jules’ clit..
”Oh my god, Frankie…that…fuck…keep doingthat.”
Frankie had always been good at taking direction so she gripped Jules’ hips, tugging her closer to the edge of the bed, then alternated between a flutter of her tongue and broad, pressure filled swipes across the tight bundle of nerves.
She sucked it between her lips then ran her middle finger up and down Jules’ slit before dipping it just inside her entrance, testing it, teasing the sensation.
Jules rocked her hips into Frankie’s touch and then she slid her finger inside, going as far as her second knuckle, then even deeper. She curled her finger to find the spongy patch of nerves she knew would have Jules begging and Jules covered her mouth with her to silence a moan.
The sound of it, thesightof it, of Jules dripping into the palm of Frankie’s hand, of her red, swollen clit, her hard nipples as she used her free hand to pinch and toy with them while her other hand held back her cries of pleasure, was like a piece of art.
And Frankie was the artist, the one making Jules feel and look that way. She flicked her tongue quickly over Jules’ clit again, the sensation of it all making her own centre ache.
She could feel her own wetness gathering at her centre, soaking through her panties just as Jules’ had. She slipped her finger out then pushed two back in, again and again, curling upwards with each thrust, her tongue never straying from Jules’ clit.
“Don’t stop,” Jules panted, her voice hoarse. “I’m so close, Frankie.”
When Jules said Frankie’s name, it came out as a high pitched begging cry, and Frankie didn’t stop. She didn’t stop when she felt the tightening of muscles around her fingers, didn’t stop when Jules clawed at her, trying to grab hold of her and keep her close, and she didn’t stop when Jules bucked, her hips rising off the mattress.
”I’m coming…” Jules whimpered and then her orgasm hit like a camera flash, bright and fast. She slammed her legs closed, trapping Frankie in place as her tongue still lapped at a swollen clit, as her finger still fluttered slowly inside until finally Jules relaxed and pushed her away, pulling her hips back to slide herself off of Frankie’s fingers.
