Skull and Dagger

Frank had been searching quite innocently through his drawers when he was brutally assaulted. “Mmf!” he managed to exclaim before he was tackled onto the bed, a soft, supple body pressing him into the mattress.

“You were taking too long,” Annabelle whispered huskily into his ear.

“I was gone less than a minute!” he protested in response.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Far. Too. Long.” She punctuated this statement with light licks along the strong lines of his cheekbones.

“Feelin’ frisky, are we?” his own voice lowered to a seductive whisper.

“Need...need...” Annabelle found herself having a hard time articulating the sensations that were overwhelming her.

“Don’ worry,” he soothed her. “I’ve got it.”

Her body seemed to have melted into a warm liquid at his growling baritone, and he easily rolled them over so that he lay atop her. Annabelle felt her heartbeat accelerate in response. Something about feeling his weight pressing her down onto the bed, his scent surrounding her, the tender look in his eyes as he gazed down at her...

“Yesss...” she hissed, every fiber of her being screaming out how right this was.

“Shh, Frank’s got you,” he murmured softly, his fingers tracing down the side of her breasts to her hip, her thigh...

She whimpered when he continued down to her shin, instinctively knowing that this was a step in the wrong direction. Her fears were put to rest, though, when his hand slipped under the hem of her skirt and retraced its pattern once more, only this time against her heated flesh...at least until he encountered her undergarments.

“Damn,” she swore.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he countered, resting his forehead against hers.

Her cheeks flushed in delight when she felt his skilled fingers navigate the complicated array of cloth, only to arrive at...

“Frank!” she cried out, her hands clutching at his silky white locks as he stroked her pleasure out of her.

“That’s my Belle,” he whispered, practically moaning at how wet he found her.

She managed a scowl at that. “Not...yours...you’re...mine!” she exclaimed between moans.

“Yours,” he agreed, chuckling softly against her throat. One finger ventured deeper into her, tracing the soft petals that concealed her fiery core.

“Oh, god!” she cried out, eyes widening, staring directly into his passionate hazel orbs. She had touched herself before, true, but never had it felt like...

“Frank!” she screamed, her nails digging into his scalp as pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt before washed over her. Once the bright lights stopped flashing behind her eyes, she collapsed back onto the mattress in a boneless heap.

“Mine?” Frank whispered smugly against her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and nibbling on it lightly.

She nodded numbly. “Yours,” she couldn’t help but agree.

The victorious smile of a successful conqueror crossed his face as he watched her pant frantically beneath him, bosom heaving and cheeks flushed. “Guess we’d better go make it official then,” he decided, lazily getting up, stretching like a contented feline as he rose to his feet.

Annabelle licked her lips at the subtle beauty of the man that would soon be her husband. “Rings?” she repeated her request from earlier, still half dazed by the talent of those hands.

He returned to the drawer he’d been digging through when she assaulted him and plucked two shiny gold objects out to the treasure box there. “These’ll have to do...” He held out the identical bands for her inspection.

She slid the smaller of the two onto her finger, smiling when it fit just perfectly. “ ‘Have to do’?” she repeated in disbelief, turning over the band of thin gold strands tied together in a Celtic knot. She didn’t think she’d seen a more beautiful ring in all her life. “You’ve got better?”

“I told you, love,” he pulled her to her feet with a shy smile, “I’m a very wealthy man.”

“Then I suppose I shall have top marry you for that,” she teased, “now that you’ve given up your power...”

“After my fortunes, now, are you?” he jested back.

Her expression turned serious as she gently cupped his cheek. “I would marry you if you were a pauper,” she whispered, catching his lips in another kiss...