Page 17 of Tempting Frankie (Lust & Luxury #1)

Alexander

I watch Francesca's retreating form, my blood boiling as I turn back to face my son. Cameron's smug face makes me want to throttle him, but I force myself to stay calm. We're still in public, after all.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snarl, keeping my voice low. “You want to act like a petulant child? Fine. But you do it in private, not in the middle of a goddamn five-star restaurant. Did I raise you to be this much of an embarrassment?”

Cameron's nostrils flare, his eyes flashing with hatred. “Oh, I'm the embarrassment? That's rich coming from the old pervert fucking his son's ex.”

I grab him by the collar, yanking him close. “Listen here, you little shit. If you have a problem with me or Francesca, you handle behind closed doors like a fucking man. Not by throwing a tantrum in public like some spoiled brat.”

Cameron tries to shrug me off, but I tighten my grip. His eyes, so like his mother's, are glassy with alcohol and resentment.

I can smell the whiskey on his breath as he sneers at me. “What's the matter, Dad? Afraid people will find out you're robbing the cradle? You were literally fingerfucking my girlfriend right here at the table. Real fucking classy, Dad.”

My grip tightens, and I have to resist the urge to slam him against the nearest wall. “Ex-girlfriend and grow the fuck up, Cameron. You're acting like a jealous teenager. Francesca is a grown woman who can make her own choices. And right now, she's choosing me.”

I release him with a shove, straightening my jacket.

“Listen to me very carefully, son. You're a Steele.

Start fucking acting like one. If you want to discuss this like adults, you know where to find me.

But if you ever speak to Francesca like that again, I'll cut you off so fast your head will spin. Are we clear?”

Cameron's jaw clenches, but he nods stiffly. I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.

“She was mine first. Does she make you feel young again, Dad? Is that what this is about?”

I pause, considering my words carefully. “No, son. She makes me feel alive. Maybe if you weren't so busy being a selfish prick, you'd understand what that's like. She’s not an option. She’s not a maybe. She’s the only fucking thing I want, and I'm done pretending otherwise.”

Without another word, I stride out of the restaurant, leaving him to stew in his own bitterness. My mind is laser-focused on getting to Francesca and checking on her. Taking care of her because I know seeing my son, especially like that, has put her into a tailspin.

I slide into the back of the car, finding her curled up in the corner, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Take us home,” I tell the driver before turning my attention to Francesca.

“Come here, little one,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms. She buries her face in my chest, and I stroke her hair, feeling the tension slowly leave her body.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn't have lost my temper like that.”

I tilt her chin up, meeting her eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. Cameron was out of line, and you handled yourself beautifully.”

The drive home is tense, but as soon as we cross the gates, I can feel more air filling my lungs.

I guide Francesca into our bedroom. She's trembling, still shaken from the confrontation. I need to ground her, to remind her who she belongs to.

“Strip,” I command, my voice low and firm. Francesca's eyes meet mine, still glassy with unshed tears before she nods, slowly peeling off her dress.

I watch hungrily as she reveals her body, my cock hardening at the sight. Her full breasts spill free from her bra, nipples already pebbled.

“On your knees,” I growl, loosening my tie. She sinks to the plush carpet, looking up at me with those big eyes. Fuck, she's gorgeous like this. Submissive and waiting for my next command. Her chests heave with each shaky breath.

I circle her slowly, drinking in the sight of her curves.

“You were such a good girl tonight,” I murmur, running my fingers through her hair.

“So strong, standing up to him. But now it's time to let go. Let me take care of you. You don’t need to fight so hard anymore, baby. I’m the fight. I’m the war.”

I cup her face in my hands, thumb tracing her full lips. “Open,” I growl, and she obeys, taking my thumb into her hot mouth.

A shudder runs through her body. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispers around the digit, and my cock twitches in response.

I praise her, my other hand moving to grip her hair. “You're going to forget all about that bullshit at dinner. The only thing that matters right now is pleasing me. Understood?”

She nods, eyes wide and desperate. I unzip my pants, freeing my throbbing cock. “Show me how sorry you are for leaving my lap without permission earlier,” I demand, guiding her head forward.

Francesca's tongue darts out, licking the head like a lollipop before taking me into her mouth. I groan, tightening my grip on her hair as she works me with skill.

She’s gotten so much better at taking me deep on the first swallow since a month ago.

“Fuck, that's good,” I pant, thrusting deeper. “Such a pretty girl for Daddy, aren't you?”

She moans around my length; the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through me. I fuck her face harder, relishing the wet sounds and her muffled whimpers.

When I'm close to the edge, I pull out, leaving her gasping.

I yank Francesca up by her hair, savoring her gasp of surprise. “On the bed. Now,” I growl, giving her ass a sharp smack as she scrambles to obey.

My cock throbs, still slick with her saliva, as I retrieve the shibari rope from the dresser. Francesca's eyes widen, her chest heaving with anticipation.

“Arms out,” I command, uncoiling the silky rope. She complies instantly, and I begin weaving a web around her body.

The rope slides across her skin, hugging every curve. I work methodically; my fingers nimble as I create a delicate latticework. The deep red rope contrasts beautifully with her skin as I make sure each knot is secure but not too tight.

I bind her wrists together, then secure them above her head. The rope crisscrosses her torso, framing those breasts I love to suck on. I take extra care crafting an intricate harness around her mounds; the pressure making her nipples pucker enticingly.

Moving lower, I spread her thighs wide, binding each leg separately before securing them to the bedposts. The position leaves her completely exposed; her glistening pussy on full display.

By the time I'm finished, Francesca is a work of art. The ropes accentuate every dip and swell of her body, leaving her bound and helpless in the center of the bed.

I stand back, admiring my handiwork. Francesca writhes against her bonds, testing their strength. The movement makes her jiggle enticingly, and my mouth waters at the sight.

Maintaining eye contact, I slowly unbutton my shirt. Francesca's gaze is hungry as I shrug it off, revealing my chest and abs. I toe off my shoes next, kicking them aside.

Now I stand before her in just my slacks, my erection still standing proudly out from the black fabric. Francesca's eyes are fixed on it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“See something you like?” I tease.

She nods eagerly, straining against the ropes. “Please, Daddy,” she whimpers. “I need it.”

I smirk. “Oh, I know you do, baby girl. And Daddy's going to take such good care of you. You’re going to come with nothing but my name on your lips, baby. Nothing else. Nothing fucking else.”

I slide a silk blindfold over Francesca's eyes, plunging her into darkness. She lets out a soft gasp, her body tensing against the ropes.

“Shh,” I soothe, running my hands down her sides. “Just feel. Let everything else fade away.”

I trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck. My teeth graze her pulse point, and she moans, arching into me as much as the ropes allow.

“That's it,” I murmur against her skin. “You're doing so well for me. Such a good girl.”

My hands cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. They pebble under my touch, and I pinch them lightly, savoring her sharp intake of breath.

“These were made for my hands,” I growl, kneading the soft flesh. “And only my hands.”

I lavish attention on each one, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer squeezes. When I take a nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, Francesca cries out.

“Please, Daddy!” she whimpers, straining against the ropes.

I chuckle darkly. “Patience, little one. We're just getting started.”

I pull away, admiring how she writhes in anticipation. Her slit glistens, begging for my touch. But not yet.

“Don't move,” I command, though the ropes make it impossible, anyway.

I stride to the table, retrieving the ice bucket. Francesca's head turns at the sound of clinking cubes, her brow furrowing beneath the blindfold.

“W-what are you doing?” she asks, a tremor in her voice.

“Trust me to take care of you,” I reply simply.

I pluck an ice cube from the bucket, rolling it between my fingers. Slowly, I trace it along her collarbone. Francesca gasps at the shock of cold, goosebumps erupting across her skin.

“Fuck!” she hisses through clenched teeth.

I drag the cube lower, circling one nipple then the other. They harden instantly, puckering into tight little buds. I follow the ice with my mouth, the contrast of cold and heat making Francesca twitch and moan.

“You taste so fucking good,” I growl, nipping at the underside of her breast. “Like you were made for my mouth.”

I trail the melting cube down her stomach, watching the muscles quiver beneath her skin. When I reach her mound, I pause.

“Color?” I ask, needing to check in.

“Green,” Francesca pants. “So fucking green.”

Grinning, I slide the ice along her slit. Francesca yelps, her hips bucking off the bed.

“Holy shit!” she cries out.

I smirk at Francesca's reaction, loving how responsive she is. Without warning, I slip the ice cube into her pussy, reveling in her shocked gasp.