Chapter 46: Chapter Forty-Six

Frankie jogged down the stairs dressed in everything but a shirt. She poured him a to-go cup of coffee and held it out to him.

“Well, that’s adorable,” he said, taking the offered cup and giving her a kiss on the cheek. He sat back and took a sip, nodding his approval.

Gloria admired his chest, still on display, and the various tattoos covering it. Her eyes became stuck on the lettering along his collarbone, her name, etched forever into his skin. Her stomach flipped as she admired the fluid ink and the not-so-subtle claim. He noticed her stare and gave her that smirk that seemed to be his default expression when around her. He took a step, touched the bottom of her chin and lifted it so her eyes were forced to move from her name to his dark eyes. His thumb traced over her bottom lip.

“Admit it, you like it,” he said, sounding so smug.

She shrugged and gave him a smirk of her own. “It’s growing on me.”

“Mm, good,” he whispered, bending down and kissing her. Gloria ran her hands up his chest but before she could wrap her arms around his neck, he pulled away. He tsked. “Don’t try to distract me, witch. I have to go,” he said, punctuating the fact by pulling a t-shirt over his head.

She pouted her lips. “Fine.”

Frankie chuckled and took another sip of his coffee. “Do you have your list prepared?” Her smirk turned into a grin as she pulled the folded piece of paper from her robe pocket and held it up for him. “Good. I’d hate to punish you for disobeying.” When he reached for the list, she held it back.

“What would my punishment have been? Just, for curiosity’s sake,” she asked.

He lowered his head so they were eye-level. “Not the kind you’re thinking of, little Vixen.”

Frankie kissed her in farewell and snatched the paper out of her grasp. Gloria watched him stroll out of the room. She sat at the kitchen table and smiled down at the coffee cup between her hands. She heard the front door open and shut. Two minutes later the door opened again and slammed telling her he’d read the ‘list.’

Frankie appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and she immediately schooled her triumphant expression. He stalked toward her, yanked her chair away from the table and braced his hands on the chair’s arms.

“There’s only one name on that list, Vixen,” Frankie growled.

“Hm, isn’t that interesting?” she asked, sipping her own coffee.

“You’re saying what you did under that table was the only time you’ve ever…” Frankie didn’t finish, only raised his eyebrows twice. Gloria shrugged her shoulders in answer. He dropped his head and inhaled deeply. “Stay strong, Frank,” he whispered to himself before lifting his head back up to look at her dead-on. “Fine. I want a new list. Forget dicks. I want to know everyone who has ever felt them. Period.” Frankie slapped the piece of paper down on the table, pushed away from her and started for the door. “I’m late so when you have it done you can just send me a…”

“Frankie,” Gloria called in a sing-song voice. Frankie paused in the doorway and gripped the threshold firmly with his right hand. She held up the folded piece of paper with his name on it as he turned to face her. “I’m done.”

His dark eyes went from her to the paper and back. His jaw ticked. He looked away and shut his eyes hard as he visibly grappled with the fact that he was her first in absolutely everything. That no one else had ever touched her intimately. That her name on his chest wasn’t just a stake of claim, but a badge of honor. He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring wide. Then he nodded. His eyes flashed to her and he moved. His stride ate up the distance between them, his intent set in stone. He grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her up from her seat before throwing her over his shoulder, lifting her robe up and biting her ass cheek.

Gloria squeaked and laughed as he carried her out of the kitchen. “What happened to needing to be frustrated?” Gloria joked as he walked her through the hallway and turned for the stairs.

“There’s frustration and pure fucking torture, Vixen. And I hate to say I’ll be inflicting the latter on you until I can come to terms with what I just discovered,” he responded while jogging up the stairs, his need to get to work apparently forgotten.

At the top of the stairs, Frankie strode through the door of their room and threw her down on the bed. Gloria bounced and giggled. She turned on her stomach, trying to get away only for him to grab her ankle and pull. Her laughter rang out around the room until he gripped her hips, hoisted them up and she felt air hit her backside followed by a resounding slap that made her yelp. Frankie’s hand smoothed over the swelling imprint of his palm and fingers. He dug his nails into the meat of her ass and buried himself inside her with one thrust. Gloria gasped, arching her back to alleviate some of the pressure created by having him inside her in this position.

“Holy fuck, Vixen. Just like that,” Frankie growled in approval as he fisted her hair and held her head back in that position.

Gloria’s arms shook as he plowed into her over and over. Her elbows collapsed, causing her torso to fall into the soft mattress. She desperately gripped the sheets in her fists, trying to stay grounded as his dominating display threatened to push her across the bed. His balls slapped against her clit with every thrust, making her curious. She carefully maneuvered her arm underneath her while he pinned her head to the bed. She moaned as the tips of her fingers brushed her sex. Frankie’s thrusts stuttered out of rhythm as she splayed two fingers on either side of his dick. Her thumb worked against her clit as her two fingers felt along his dick as it went in and out of her pussy.

“God, Vixen, you can’t tell me you haven’t done this before,” Frankie protested from behind her. “You’re too fucking good at it.”

He hissed as she dropped her hand back and cupped his balls, pressing them against her clit, forcing himself to grind up against her. The position she was in was awkward, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to feel everything.

“Fuck, why is it always you torturing me, huh?” he asked a moment before he fisted her hair again and yanked her up.

Gloria cried out as he cupped her throat and pinned her body against his. Frankie’s other hand dropped down her torso as he continued to hammer up into her. The back of his thumb worked against her clit and she lost all the breath from her lungs.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he ordered against her ear. Gloria tried to open her mouth but she had no breath left to speak. “I’m yours. You fucking know I’m yours. Tell me you’re mine, Gloria. Say it.”

Then his hips struck up against hers one last time and he shook violently with his release. Gloria moaned, not having quite reached her own completion but too sated from what he’d done to her earlier to care. His harsh breath fanned her shoulder, still shaking from how hard he’d cum. His hand left her clit to snake inside her robe and clasp her breast as an anchor.

“Say it,” he pleaded.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, regaining her breath and an inch of her sanity.

“Fucking right,” Frankie growled latching his teeth onto her neck and sucking hard before releasing her completely.

Gloria fell into the mattress and moaned as she stretched her shaky legs.

“Fuck, I’m so late. Are you okay?” he asked on a chuckle as she curled up in contentment.

“Mhmm,” she hummed.

She felt his lips travel up her spine and nip at the back of her neck. “Stay here, Gloria. Do not leave this apartment.”

“Okie dokie,” she agreed.

A light slap to her ass was his farewell. She could hear him walk away and a minute later the security system pinged around the apartment, letting her know he’d engaged it as he left. She stretched and turned onto her back. She was alone. For the first time in months she was completely alone. She sat up and looked around at the room she was in. He hadn’t told her how long he would be gone. She glanced up at the camera stationed in the corner of the room and bit her lip.

Gloria shot up from the bed, used the bathroom and ran down the stairs. She bit her thumb as she stared down at his security room’s keypanel. She typed her code and smiled as it turned green. She used the key he’d given her the day before and unlocked the door. The last time she was in the room was when she’d discovered Oswald's body. The door to the room Frankie used for torture was closed and she let it remain that way. She was certain she would have to see the inside of it again soon enough.

Instead, she turned her attention to the monitors displaying every camera around the apartment. She sat at the computer and woke it up with a shake of the mouse. She wasn’t sure what she meant to do. Watch? Record it and save it for later? Use it as a learning tool? She froze when the screen woke up fully. It wasn’t the prompt for a password that made ice freeze her veins and a lump of guilt in her throat stall her breathing. It was the background. It was a picture. There were four people: a man, a woman, and two boys. Frankie and his family. Frankie, his parents… and Stephen.