Page 12 of Tempting Frankie (Lust & Luxury #1)

Alexander

I watch Francesca descend the stairs, looking at the car that’s still here.

Still waiting.

My driver opens the door, and she slides in beside me.

“I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long,” she says, a hint of apprehension in her voice.

I let my gaze roam over her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks. “I'd wait an eternity for you, pretty girl.”

The drive to my estate is quiet, Francesca's hand resting on my thigh. I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves. When we arrive at the gate, I hear her sharp intake of breath.

As we pull up to the house, she tenses. “Holy shit,” she whispers, and I can't help the surge of pride that courses through me. “I forgot how massive this place is.”

“Welcome home, Francesca,” I say, relishing the way her name and home roll off my tongue when strung together.

We leave the car, and I lead her through the grand foyer, my hand resting possessively on the small of her back, fingers flexing, and I’m trying to avoid the urge to rip her dress off and fuck her in the entryway.

Her eyes dart everywhere, taking in the soaring ceilings, the crystal chandelier, the priceless artwork adorning the walls.

“This place is fucking massive,” she mutters, and I chuckle at her candor.

“Wait until you see the rest,” I promise, guiding her toward the living room. “This is where we'll spend most of our time together when we're not otherwise occupied.”

Her cheeks flush at the implication, and I have to resist the urge to push her up against the nearest wall and devour her right there. My appetite for her cannot be described as anything else but gluttonous.

We move through the house, and I point out the various rooms—the state-of-the-art kitchen, the home theater, the gym. With each new revelation, Francesca's eyes grow wider, and I find myself captivated by her genuine wonder.

“And this,” I say, pausing before a set of double doors, “is my study. Off limits unless I invite you in.”

She raises an eyebrow, a hint of her usual sass returning. “What, you got bodies hidden in there or something?”

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “No bodies, pretty girl. Just a lot of very important, very confidential business documents. And maybe a few toys I'd like to use on you someday.”

Her breath hitches, and I can practically feel the heat radiating off her skin. “Fuck,” she whispers.

“Soon,” I promise, my voice low and gravelly. “But first, let me show you where you'll be sleeping.”

I lead her up the staircase, my hand never leaving her.

Finally, we reach the primary suite. I push open the double doors, revealing a room larger than most people's entire homes. The California king bed dominates the space, draped in luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets and a down comforter.

“Holy fuck,” Francesca breathes, her eyes wide as saucers. “This bed is bigger than my entire bedroom.”

I smirk, pulling her against me. “Plenty of room for all the things I plan to do to you, also.”

She shivers, and I feel her pulse quicken under my touch. But there's more to show her.

“Come,” I murmur, guiding her toward another set of doors within the bedroom. I push them open, revealing a wardrobe that's practically the size of her entire apartment.

Francesca's jaw drops. “Holy shit,” she whispers, her eyes wide as she takes in the expanse before her.

I can't help but smile at her reaction. “This is where you'll find everything you need,” I explain, leading her inside.

The space is immaculate, all dark wood and soft lighting.

On one side, rows upon rows of designer clothes hang neatly.

Suits, dress shirts, and casual wear, all in my size.

But it's the other side that draws her attention.

“Are those...” she trails off, reaching out to touch a silky blouse.

“Everything from the boutique,” I confirm, “along with a few other pieces I thought you might like.” I watch as she moves from hanger to hanger, her fingers trailing over luxurious fabrics—cashmere sweaters, tailored blazers, and dresses that will hug every delicious curve of her body.

In the center of the room stands a large island, its surface gleaming under the soft lights. “Go ahead,” I encourage, nodding toward the drawers. “Open them.”

She does, revealing an array of accessories. My collection of designer watches, cufflinks, and an impressive selection of ties. In another drawer, she finds delicate lingerie sets, all in her size. Her cheeks flush as she fingers a scrap of black lace.

“You've thought of everything,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

I step closer, my chest brushing against her back. “I want you to have everything, Francesca,” I say, my lips close to her ear. “Everything you deserve and more.”

She turns to face me, her eyes shining with so many emotions—awe, desire, and a hint of fear. “This is...it's too much, Alexander.”

I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Nothing is too much for you, sweetheart. You're worth every bit and more.”

Her breath hitches, and the air between us is tense, thick and heavy. I want nothing more than to claim her, to show her exactly how much I want her. But I hold back, savoring the anticipation.

“There's one more thing I want to show you,” I say, my voice low and husky. I lead her to a hidden panel in the back of the wardrobe, pressing my palm against it. With a soft click, it slides open, revealing a smaller, dimly lit room.

Francesca's eyes widen as she takes in the contents—an array of toys, restraints, and other implements of pleasure. “Oh,” she breathes, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. “I can't wait to use every single one of these on you, Francesca.”

She shivers, and I can feel the heat radiating off her skin. I pull back, enjoying the way her pupils have dilated with desire.

I turn her to face the full-length mirror on the far wall, standing behind her with my hands on her hips. “Look at yourself, Francesca. Do you see how fucking beautiful you are?”

She meets my gaze in the mirror, her expression full of vulnerability. “I'm starting to,” she admits softly.

I press a kiss to the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my lips. “Good,” I growl. “Because I plan on spending every day showing you just how perfect you are. I want you to tell me what you see.”

She swallows hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I see... me?”

“Repeat after me,” I command softly, my breath hot against her ear. “I am beautiful.”

She hesitates, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. I give her a gentle squeeze. “Say it, Francesca.”

“I am beautiful,” she whispers, the words barely audible.

“Louder,” I insist. “Like you mean it.”

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “I am beautiful,” she says, her voice stronger this time.

“Good girl,” I purr, reaching for the zipper of her dress. I pull it down slowly, savoring the sight of her olive skin being revealed inch by tantalizing inch. “Now say, I am worthy.”

“I am worthy,” Francesca repeats, her voice wavering slightly as I slip the dress off her shoulders. It pools at her feet, leaving her in a matching set of black lace underwear that makes my mouth water.

“Again,” I demand, my hands skimming up her sides to cup her breasts. “Louder.”

“I am worthy,” she says, her voice gaining confidence as I massage her through the lace of her bra.

I unhook her bra, letting it fall away. Her breasts spill free, full and heavy. “Say, I deserve pleasure.”

Francesca's breath hitches as I roll her nipples between my fingers. “I deserve pleasure,” she moans, arching into my touch.

“That's right, baby,” I growl, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her neck. “You deserve all the pleasure I'm going to give you.”

My hands trail down her stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. I slide them down her legs agonizingly slowly, drinking in every curve and dip of her body.

“Last one,” I say, standing back up to meet her gaze in the mirror. “Say, I am desirable.”

Francesca stands before me, completely naked and utterly breathtaking. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes dark with want. She takes a deep breath, her voice steady and sure as she speaks.

“I am desirable.”

“Fuck yes, you are,” I growl, spinning her around to face me. I cup her face in my hands, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. “You're the most desirable woman I've ever laid eyes on, Francesca. And I'm going to spend all night proving it to you.”

With that, I tease the seam of her mouth until she grants me entrance. She moans into my mouth, her hands fisting in my shirt as she presses her naked body against me.

I break the kiss, leaving Francesca breathless. “Turn back around,” I command softly. “I want you to watch yourself.”

She obeys, facing the mirror once more. I stand behind her, drinking in the sight of her naked body. “Spread your legs for me.”

Francesca hesitates for just a moment before complying. I can see how wet she is already, her inner thighs glistening in the soft light.

“Good girl,” I purr. “Now, I want you to touch yourself. Start with your breasts.”

Her hands tremble slightly as she cups her full breasts, kneading the soft flesh. I watch her reflection intently, noting how her nipples harden under her own touch.

“That's it,” I encourage. “Pinch your nipples. Harder.”

She gasps as she follows my instructions, her hips rocking slightly. I can tell she's aching for more.

“Now, trail one hand down your stomach. Slowly.”

Francesca obeys, her fingers tracing a path down her soft belly. I growl in approval.

“Lower,” I command. “Touch your pussy for me. Show me how wet you are.”

Her breath hitches as her fingers make contact with her slick folds. “Fuck,” she whimpers.

“Spread yourself open,” I instruct, my voice low and gravelly. “I want to see every inch of your pretty little cunt.”