Page 60 of Summer Breakdown (Training Seasons #2)

“Spin over,” Frankie mutters once she’s clicked her dick in place.

It’s pink because Jasmine is unserious, but the harness just goes over her thighs and her waist and she doesn’t have to fuck around with her shoulders, so she’ll forgive her.

Jasmine kisses her instead, trying to get Frankie to let Jasmine fuck her first. She almost gives in because she likes to give Jasmine whatever she wants, but Frankie twists her when she remembers how much of a brat she’s been all day.

Ezra has the kids overnight, but Jasmine has been touching her since the morning.

Small kisses to the back of her neck, hands lingering against her thigh at the table.

Jasmine lays flat on her front, and Frankie hikes up her leg, her knee bent. Jasmine is wet enough from her first orgasm that the strap slides into her with little resistance. She throws her hips back and Frankie lets her. It won’t get her what she wants, but Frankie likes the show all the same.

“You thought you were going to be in control tonight,” Frankie whispers, her lips against the back of her neck. Jasmine groans, thighs twitching. “But look at you.” She doesn’t raise her voice; she doesn’t need to.

“You’re already quiet. Already mine,” Frankie says, resting her hands against her hips, tilting just slightly. Jasmine tries to move again, but Frankie’s quicker than that, holding her in place. “And I haven’t even given you anything yet.”

“Frankie,” Jasmine whines, her head down. Frankie looks at the dip between her shoulder blades and wonders how she got lucky enough to be here with her. And, that she missed the light birthmark against her shoulder blade when she drew her last week. She’ll have to do it again.

Her hands tighten firmly on Jasmine’s hips. She thrusts just once. Sharp and deep and Jasmine gasps so hard Frankie feels it against her thighs.

“Oh?” she asks, voice low. “That’s all it takes?”

“Fuck—“ Jasmine starts, a groan, then, ”—you.”

Frankie does it again, slower this time.

Her hands stay against Jasmine so she can control the pace.

When she lowers her body and moves deeper, Jasmine’s groan is guttural, and it hits Frankie square in the chest. Her clit throbs, and she wishes they brought the strap that would touch her too.

It might be enough like this though, just hearing the mess between Jasmine’s thighs.

Frankie’s grip on Jasmine’s leg is too tight, she knows it is.

She moves to let go but Jasmine holds her hand over hers as Frankie thrusts slowly.

She dips until her nipples rub along Jasmine’s back.

Jasmine makes her feel electric with her voice alone, with the way the pillow tightens as she bites on it.

God, how does she do this to her without even meaning too.

The pressure builds between Frankie’s legs.

Sharp and tight in her gut, each thrust dragging Frankie closer and closer to the edge.

There’s no pressure on her, so she doesn’t know how her spine tingles, but Jasmine’s always managed to get her to do whatever she wants.

Frankie slides a hand under Jasmine’s hip, pulling her up just a bit. Just enough to find her clit.

Jasmine sobs, small please getting muffled by the pillow, but they do this so often that Frankie’s trained herself to know what she’s saying. She smirks, slowing her finger as she rubs tight, fast circles against Jasmine’s clit until she tenses and then Frankie slows.

“Thought you were in charge” Frankie whispers, her hips tilting just a little. “Thought you could handle it.” Her fingers slow again and Jasmine moans .

“Frankie, I swear to God, if you don’t —“

Frankie smiles, her lips against the edge of her mouth. Her voice slow and as sweet as she can get it.

“Beg me properly.”

Jasmine groans, pretending like she didn’t know dropping to her knees in the pantry this morning wouldn’t end up right here.

She puts it off, her entire body tensing with the need to come.

Frankie’s girl is stubborn, and she loves her.

Frankie bites against her shoulder. Jasmine glares at her, but the expression doesn’t work that well when her entire body is flushed. When she’s absolutely wrecked.

Frankie relishes in it. Her testing her and figuring out what she wants. Frankie shifts her hips, changing the angle, pressing deeper. Jasmine’s breath hitched, her back arching, her fingers gripping against the pillow.

“There it is.”

Frankie’s pretty sure Jasmine growls, but it’s buried so deep into the pillow that she won’t call her out on it. Maybe.

Instead, she sets a deliberate pace. Not deep enough, not fast enough, but just enough to keep her on the edge.

She presses a slow, lingering kiss against the column of Jasmine’s throat, feeling the way her pulse thunders beneath her.

Frankie’s over not seeing her, not hearing her.

She pulls out, flips her over, and pushes back in before Jasmine can grip the sheets.

Frankie slides a hand to Jasmine’s jaw, titling her towards her. Jasmine’s eyes flutter and her lips part as Frankie thrusts again.

“You look so good like this,” Frankie praises.

Jasmine’s breath hitches, her body tensing beneath her.

Thighs tightening around her hips. Frankie groans, feeling the need to come herself creeping up her spine.

Knowing her luck and Jasmine’s ability to get whatever she wants, Frankie’s going to end up begging her.

She presses her forehead against Jasmine’s, her breath warm, fanning over her lips.

“Look at me.” Frankie says .

Jasmine’s eyes flicker open, hazy and wrecked, and God, Frankie has never seen anything so beautiful. She surges forward, kissing her deeply, swallowing the sound Jasmine makes as she rocked into her, keeping her pinned beneath her.

Frankie grins against her lips, dragging her fingers down Jasmine’s stomach before settling them low, where she knows she needs her most. Jasmine gasps, her whole-body tensing, her nails scraping down Frankie’s arms.

Frankie chuckles, slow and satisfied, shifting her hips just right.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs against her lips, her voice all silk and sin, pressing another teasing kiss to her jaw. “Let’s see how long you last.”

Jasmine trembles beneath her, thighs tightening, hips twitching upward in a desperate attempt to get something she could so easily ask for. Her hips move quickly, and Frankie smirks, slowing both her hips and her fingers.

“You’re not very patient, are you?”

Jasmine glares, her head tipping back against the pillows, her fingers tightening desperately at Frankie’s arms. Making Jasmine break might be her favourite thing of all time.

“If you—fucking—stop again, I swear to God—“

Frankie does stop.

Completely.

Jasmine whimpers. Truly and honestly whimpers and Frankie’s almost slides out of her just to grab some paper and a pencil.

Instead, she stays perfectly still, watching the way Jasmine’s stomach tightens.

The way she tries not to give in even as her body betrays her.

Jasmine loves being on the bottom, she’s just in a mood. Frankie’s favourite kind of mood.

Frankie drops her lips to her just once.

“You’re going to have to ask nicely.”

Jasmine groans, tossing an arm over her face, her thighs trembling, her whole body taut, her eyes dark and furious .

“You have to be joking.”

Frankie smirks, dipping her head to kiss along Jasmine’s throat, trailing down, lower, until her mouth found a perfectly stiff nipple.

“Oh, not at all.”

Frankie moves again. Just enough to tease, just enough to have Jasmine arching beneath her, gasping, her body so desperate for more that it betrays her completely.

Jasmine bites her lip, trying to hold onto something.

Some illusion of control, as if there’s any reality where she doesn’t call the shots.

Where she doesn’t get everything she asks for.

“Jasmine,” she whispers, her breath hot, fingers pressing just slightly harder where she was already aching, rubbing slow circles just enough to be cruel. “Beg.”

“Frankie.”

Frankie stays perfectly still.

“Beg better.”

Jasmine let out a sharp, frustrated breath through her nose, her fingers digging into Frankie’s arms. Her eyes are dark, smouldering like she’s planning a retaliation down to the exact flick of her tongue.

Then, after a long, long moment, she grinds out, “Please.”

Frankie beams, delighted, pressing a kiss to the sharp line of Jasmine’s jaw. She moves slightly, watching the way Jasmine’s relaxes.

“Oh,” she whispers, her lips against hers now. “You can do so much better than that.”

Jasmine let out a low, wrecked noise, her head pressing hard against the pillow, her body quivering with desperation.

Frankie lets her wait. Seated deep inside her, thumb against her clit but not moving beyond Jasmine’s thighs twitching.

Let’s her ache for it.

Then, sharp, blushed, wrecked— a little furious.

“Fuck you. ”

Frankie rolls her lips to stop from laughing. She’s so cute. Frankie drags her teeth along Jasmine’s pulse, humming at the thrums steadily.

“You really think you’re still in charge here?”

Jasmine scowls, her nails digging into Frankie’s skin. Her frustration palpable and delicious.

“I’m—I can’t think—“

“That’s a whole lot of words that aren’t please, pretty girl.”

Frankie kisses her again. Her tongue stroking her top lip. All deep and possessive. Then, her lips still brushing against Jasmine’s, she whispers.

“Try again.”

Jasmine’s entire body shudders and Frankie’s about to win.

“Please,” she whispers, and Frankie moves just slightly. Jasmine holds Frankie close as if that means Frankie won’t see her come apart. As if Frankie doesn’t have a sketchbook laced with the expressions of Jasmine in euphoria. She kisses her once.

“Frankie,” Jasmine begs. “Please.”

And finally—finally—she gives it to her.