“It is your birthday, sir.” Tuck kills the music, finds the channel, and gives Darden the remote.
Jasper fails at making margaritas while Hula-Hooping. He can’t get close enough to the bar to hit the button as he swivels his hips, and we dissolve into laughter.
Cece and Jasper get into a Hula-Hoop contest, and Darden is the rule decider. Herman has a Slinky, and Brogan gleefully decorates Tuck’s fireplace mantel with Silly String. I’m laughing as I look around, then miss Tuck. Easing away, I find him in the hallway, standing in front of the Pollock.
He wraps an arm around my waist when I appear. “I like your family,” he murmurs.
“Thank you. Why are you over here? Come join us?”
He slides his hand under my hair and cups the back of my head, massaging. “Sorry. Sometimes I can’t help but get pulled into this painting.”
I exhale. “You could donate it to a museum?”
“Maybe.” His fingers dance along my back and outline my tattoo by memory. “I have a gift for you.”
“I have one for you.” A sketch I did of him.
He laces our fingers together and tugs me to his room.
“Tuck, we can’t—”
“It won’t take long; I promise.”
We end up at his dresser. He pulls out a drawer and opens a velvet case, and I gasp.
He holds up a glittering diamond necklace, and the center is huge, at least five carats—
“Tuck! This is too much.” The diamonds’ facets shine under the light.
“Shh.” He turns me to face the mirror as he puts the necklace around my throat.
Our eyes hold in the mirror; then he dips his face to my neck. “Francesca, I’m not a man with pretty words, but ... you’ve given mesomething. Hope, maybe? Trust? I want to give you the prettiest jewels, the best of everything. Just let me, okay?”
I melt against his frame as he kisses my neck. Lust rides me as his hands skim my waist. I reach behind me to his groin and unzip his pants.
“We have guests,” he drags out in a rough voice.
“Don’t care. Let’s be quick. I’m already wet for you.”
“Let me see, hmm?” He lifts the skirt of my dress in the front and palms my lace panties. He moves aside the elastic and rubs a slow circle, edging closer and closer until he groans, then sinks a finger inside. My hips move with him, my head thrown back in the crook of his shoulder. His cashmere sweater rubs my face, the softness of the fabric erotic against my cheek.
He lifts my sweater, exposing my bra. He pinches my nipple, and my pussy throbs as I moan.
“Shh, I’m not going to let you come. Later.”
I whimper, and he kisses the shell of my ear as his fingers slip out of my panties. He tugs down my sweater and arranges the jewels around my throat. My face is flushed as he brushes his fingers over my mouth. “Rosebud lips. Such a beauty, Francesca.”
He leaves the room as I try to catch my breath.
Fifteen minutes later he tugs me into the guest bathroom, sets me on the counter, spreads my legs, and tongues my core through the lace. With my knees bent up to my breasts, I try to slide my underwear aside, but he stops me. “Wait a little longer,” he purrs as he fixes my hair, pure male satisfaction on his face as he walks out the door.
Later, I tug him into the kitchen pantry, unzip his pants, and suck him hard and fast, my tongue flicking his head. When his hands fist in my hair and he pushes me down to where my throat tightens around him, I ease back, then walk out.
It takes a full five minutes before he leaves the pantry.
When Herman says he needs to head home, we walk him out. After the elevator closes, Tuck picks me up in his arms and presses me against the wall. He shoves my skirt up and grinds his pelvis against my center. His zipper rubs against my clit, and I tug on his hair, tilting his head to kiss him deeply.
Darden leaves after Herman, and we repeat it, only going further, me pumping his dick as he fingers me.