Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended! All characters and related rights belong to CBS and High school Sweethearts Productions. Just a fan girl having fun!
The Nanny Fan Fiction
'Not Without My Nanny: Continuation'
Fran, Maxwell and Gracie are forced to stay at the Sultan's palace after a dangerous sandstorm hits Quaristan. This unfortunate event ends up being the most idealistic way celebrate the 'I love you'.
Nothing existed for Fran Fine and Maxwell Sheffield as they stood in the middle of the Sultan's palace. They had just shared a mind-blowing kiss that released years of unrequited love. They said nothing as their foreheads rest against one another. Fran's eyes were shut in complete content as her fingers played with his collar while Maxwell's thumbs gently caressed the bare skin of her waist.
"I didn't expect you to be so quiet," Max said gently, his voice merely a whisper.
Fran lifted her head to look in his eyes. When she saw the love reflecting from them, she was so overwhelmed that she smiled, blushing, and lowered her face into his chest to hide it.
He chuckled amused, kissing the top of her head, "Are you blushing?"
"I just don't know what to say," she mumbled.
"Hey."
She lifted her head again at his gentle command and he bent down to give her a soft kiss. Fran looked at him deeply as a surge of emotions burst throughout her, with exciting butterflies fluttering to her tummy. She hadn't felt such unconditional emotion before with a man and her eyes filled up with tears.
"Ohhh, what," he chuckled seeing her about to cry.
"I love you, too," she choked out.
Maxwell placed his palm on her jaw studying her beautiful face, "I know. I can see it in your eyes."
They leaned in to kiss again when the Sultan's head assistant walked back into the room. Fran was a little taken back when Maxwell didn't push her away, or take a step back, when he realized they were no longer alone.
"Miss Fine, we have just gotten word that there's a destructive sandstorm that will hit the city this evening and all flights have been canceled. None are flying in or out at this time. The Sultan will be traveling to the next town on business momentarily. He suggested that you and Miss Grace, and you Mr. Sheffield, if you have no prior accommodations, stay out the storm here at the Palace. I should advise do not go outside when the storm hits as it could be very dangerous."
Fran looked at Maxwell seeing what he thought and he shrugged his shoulders, "Seem we have no other choice. That's very kind of him. Please relay our gratitude."
"Will do. Topaz will be your butler in the meantime. If you need anything, he is at your service. Mr. Sheffield, there is a spare guest room you my accommodate across from Miss Fine and Miss Grace's rooms."
"Thank you."
As he left, Grace came running in excited, "We get to stay here another night, Fran!"
"I know, sweetie. You know, if the Sultan was here, I wouldn't be as excited, but I gotta tell ya, sleeping on Egyptian cotton and prancing around in belly dancer outfits is pretty darn nice."
"I'll say," Maxwell said flirtatiously looking at her wardrobe. Fran smiled, biting her bottom lip at him flirting back.
"Daddy, Billy has a cool game room. Can I go?"
"Sure, sweetheart, but I'd like to have dinner with you. Meet us back here then, alright?"
"Sure! Thanks Daddy!"
As Grace ran out she passed a gorgeous middle-eastern woman who walked into the doorway. The woman was around the same age as Fran, and her head was covered by a beautiful, silk scarf and her petite body wore a matching dress.
"Hello, are you Miss Fine, Grace's Nanny?"
"I am."
"My name is Alba, I'm the Sultan's sister."
Fran enthusiastically shook her hand, "Oh, hello, it's so nice to meet you, Princess. The Sultan told me when we arrived you were out of town."
"Yes, I was visiting the orphaned children in Hadeed, but the foreseen weather brought me back early. I apologize for the inconvenience of the weather. I'm sure you're ready to go home."
Fran shook her head and spoke softly, "Everything I need is here."
When she looked at Max, it was his turn to blush.
"On the upside, my nephew gets to spend more time with Miss Grace. From what I hear, they never stop laughing."
"Yes," Fran giggled, "Princes…'
"Alba, please," she interrupted.
"Alba, this is Gracie's father Maxwell Sheffield."
"Nice to meet you," he said with a respectful nod towards the royal.
"I'm so sorry, I was not aware you were a guest as well."
"I just arrived myself. It was a spare-of-the-moment trip."
"How lovely. Business or pleasure?"
"Uh, well, there was some business I had to take care of," he then placed his arm around Fran's waist, "but it is most definitely pleasure now."
Fran felt the butterflies from earlier flutter between her legs and she immediately looked away from Max, to hide her pink cheeks.
"Thank you for your hospitality by letting us stay here throughout the storm," he quipped.
"It's our pleasure. After supper, a few of us will be in the Hookah bar. If you would like to join us, please feel free to do so."
"Oh, I most definitely will be doing so," Fran said enthusiastically.
"I will look forward to seeing you both. Please make yourself at home," Alba said before walking out.
Maxwell looked at Fran, eyebrow raised, "Hookah bar, Fran?"
She giggled, "You don't have to go but I've never been to one. Closest thing I ever got to was some cheap grass stuffed in Val's parent's cigarettes when we were teenagers."
"You can barely handle a glass of wine. What makes you think I'm going to let you go to a Hookah bar alone?"
Fran smiled inside. He was already playing like she were his and she secretly loved the dominant aspect of him.
The two walked hand-in-hand up the guest corridor. She stopped at Gracie's room showing him his daughter's pink and gold decorated suite. Then they proceeded through a connecting door.
"And this is my boudoir."
"It's lovely."
"Probably one of the most comfortable beds I've ever slept on."
Maxwell raised his eyebrow, "Is that a hint for wanting me to get you this kind of bed at home?"
"Maybe," she teased, "Come on, your room is over here."
He followed her out and across the hall.
Maxwell walked in and nodded impressed, "This'll do."
Part of Fran wanted to initiate him staying with her but she didn't want to push it. She already got his declaration of love, but the heat had been burning between them, especially since their hotel room interruption of her hives after the Michael Bolton show. Now, it was escalated even more. Fran knew Maxwell could feel it. Nothing was stopping them from being in each other's arms now. Of course, at the same time, Fran felt no rush. When timing was right, it would happen and she'd let him call the shots.
"What time do you want dinner? What's the time here?"
"It's three now. We've been eating dinner at six."
"That sounds good. Tell you what, I'm going to take a nap from the jet lag and get washed up and I'll come get you at six."
"Ok. I think I'll go relax in a bath then. Get this, they fill the water with lavender oil and rose petals here. Maybe we should start making Niles do that, hm," she playfully winked at him before walking out.
Maxwell had fallen into a slumber almost immediately, but during the state of being half awake and half asleep, images of Fran in that rose petal bath filled his mind. He ended up in there with her. He could feel her body against his, though this mind was too foggy to actually see her lovely body. He could see her beautiful face, however, and her mouth…that delicious mouth. He loved the feel of her plush lower lip between his and the velvet feel of her tongue. He wanted to feel the warm, velvet feel between her legs. He wanted to bury himself inside of her, feel her muscles grip him when she cried out his name. He wanted to…
Maxwell woke up with a start at the sound of the Muslim prayer siren. He sighed and dropped his head back onto the pillow. His hard arousal was aching, and he wanted to relieve it desperately, but he felt guilty to do that when his love was just across the hall. He couldn't go over there in his current condition. He'd last a second and disappoint them both. That wasn't how he wanted to spend their first time together. No, a cold shower would suffice.
At supper, Grace and Fran were fully dressed and their hair was modestly covered in religious respect. Alba and Billy joined them, mostly chatting with Grace, as Fran and Maxwell secretly held hands under the table, exchanging loving glances. At one point, Gracie kept noticing the looks between her Nanny and father. She hadn't quite seen them look at each other that way before. She was a child, but, like her siblings, was not naive to their feelings.
After desert, Fran and Grace held hands as they walked back to their quarters with Maxwell trailing behind them.
Grace whispered, "Is there something going on between you and Daddy?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. You guys just seem different."
"Different how," Fran asked alarmed.
"Daddy just seems like he's closer to you, even since when we were back at home."
Fran smiled at she looked back at Maxwell who was paces away minding his own business, "Well, he loves me."
Grace rolled her eyes, "Duh. He's just in denial about it. We all know this."
"No, he really does love me. He told me," Fran stated proudly.
"Yeah, but then he took it ba-a-ack," Grace reminded Fran.
Fran shook her head, "Not this time, he didn't."
"What do you mean, this time?"
"Today he told me he loves me…and didn't take it back."
Gracie stopped walking and scrunched her face, "No way."
"Way."
"Prove it," Gracie demanded.
Maxwell stopped when he realized the girls had stopped, "Hey, what's the hold up?"
Fran winked at the child before walking over to Maxwell. She grabbed his face and gave him a peck on the lips, "I love you."
"I love you, too," he said back at her amused.
Fran turned back to Grace whose mouth was open, "See." Off Maxwell's baffled look she explained, "Gracie didn't believe me that you told me you loved me today."
"Oh," he smiled as Grace came up and hugged him.
"I'm so happy that you did that, Daddy."
"I'm happy you did that, too, Daddy," Fran teased.
"Well, you're both very welcome."
A little later, Gracie joined Billy in the theater room to watch movies as Fran and Max dressed for the bar. He had dressed in a black dress shirt and black dress pants when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
Fran immediately opened the door, "Maxwell, you have to see this."
He did a double take on her as she crossed his room in a white and lavender belly dancer costume. The bodice was a sparkled push up and her low rise, full length skirt had slits up the side. She didn't even realize the effect it had on him as she headed to the double door veranda.
"You look…nice," he said feeling his arousal stir again.
"Thanks. Come here, check this out."
He walked over to her as she flung open the drapes and opened the doors. They stepped out onto the veranda as she pointed ahead. The sky was the most orange they had ever seen it during sundown, and up ahead, a very long, large sand wave was rolling in.
"Wow, would you look at that," he said amazed.
"It's so beautiful and so calm."
"Yes, but it looks like it's going to be bad when it arrives."
"But we can enjoy the view while we have the chance."
He enclosed her in his arms from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder. Fran felt so peaceful, yet so sensual, in his embrace. Her senses suddenly became on overdrive. His fingertips on her bare midriff felt ticklish in an arousing way, his breath was warm and his cologne...oy his cologne.
Maxwell glanced down seeing her breasts spill over the cups of the bodice and images of when he touched them in the hospital bed filled his mind. He reached his head up and kissed her cheek softly. As if reading his thoughts, Fran turned her head so their lips could meet. A loud rumble, and a strong whoosh of wind, startled them a bit. Suddenly a lightning strike appeared from the sand wave in the distance and Fran's eyes widened.
"Did you see that?"
"Maybe we should get inside," he took her hand and they walked back in his bedroom.
"Let's check on Gracie and then we can head to the bar."
The Palace Hookah bar was very exotic. The room was semi-dark with glowing purple and pink lights and Arabian instrumental music. There was a small waterfall, potted palm trees, black velvet couches, glowing multi-colored Hookah pipes and a fully stocked bar.
When Fran and Max walked in, there were about a dozen other people in there scattered around.
"Forget about getting me a new bed, Maxwell, this is what you need to add at home."
Maxwell smiled, "It is rather alluring, isn't it?"
"It's positively sexy," she breathed as she took a few steps ahead of him looking around.
He took that time to admire her attire again, "It sure is," he said in a seductive tone.
Fran caught that and looked at him over her shoulder teasing him with a sexy smile.
"Miss Fine, Mr. Sheffield, welcome."
The couple turned as Alba walked up in her own belly dancer outfit like Frans and no headdress.
"You're not…" Fran motioned to her head and Alba giggled.
"This room is off limits for our religious customs. It's the only place we are allowed to have our traditional scarves removed outside the confines of our bedrooms of course."
"Well, you are beautiful, honey, with or without the scarf," Fran quipped.
"Many thanks. There's a spare couch over there. Feel free to enjoy yourselves."
"Thank you," Maxwell said placed his arm around Fran's waist and ushered her over to the couch. He sat down but suddenly she gasped looking up, her bare tummy and hips right in front of his face. And it made him swallow hard.
"Look at the ceiling," Fran stated enthusiastically, and complete unaware of how she was torturing him.
Fran took a seat next to him and they observed the sparkly black ceiling that looked like bright stars in a midnight sky.
"It's quite nice."
"It's kinda romantic," she softly said placing her hand on his knee. Max turned to her smiling back, "Yes, it is."
With her pointer finger she motioned 'come hither' smiling. He leaned forward and kissed her lips once, then twice. When he pulled back, he placed his hand on her jaw sliding it back to move some hair behind her ear with such tenderness. Then his eyes clouded over with sorrow, "I'm sorry I made you wait so long."
Fran placed her finger on his lips shaking her head, "You told me how you feel. That's all that matters now." They shared a very loving glance before Fran broke the stare, "I want to try this."
Scooting away a bit, she placed herself in front of the tall, Arabic-style Hookah which was designed in decorative jewels. Next to it was a tray of different flavored tobaccos and, inevitably, marijuana.
Maxwell watched as she chose the marijuana and he placed his hand on her wrist, "No."
Fran giggled sheepishly, "What?" He gave her a very displeased, serious look and she looked back at him stunned, "You have to be joking."
"I don't think there's anything to joke about."
"Honey, I'm a grown woman in the Middle East. I'm not in the kitchen passing a joint back and forth with Niles for heaven's sakes…although…this one time…"
"Fran," he pronounced with a warning.
And she rolled her eyes, "I'm kiddiiiiinng."
"Just humor me, please."
"Alright."
As Fran chose a flavored tobacco, Maxwell noticed a finely crafted wooden box in front of him. He opened it and was pleasantly surprised to see top notch cigars inside. He took one out and luxuriously smelled it. As Maxwell lit a match and took puffs of the cigar, his eyes landed on Fran as she slowly inhaled through the hose. Frozen in place, he watched her red lips as she exhaled sensuously.
Fran looked over at him and her eyes never left his as she spoke, "You're about to burn yourself, Darling."
Maxwell didn't register what she said until he felt the sudden heat from the flame of the match on his hand and he jumped startled, quickly blowing it out. Fran giggled to herself.
For the next hour, they remained alone on their couch, huddled close, lost in their own little world. They talked, they laughed, they flirted, they caressed and shared sweet kisses until they joined the other few couples to slow dance to the seducing rhythm of the Arabic music.
Fran felt a strong, erotic energy between them as they danced. She reminded herself not to push him, but the man just screamed sex. You couldn't even slide a piece of paper between them as Max held her close, his hand sprawled against her lower back keeping her up against him as they sway seductively. The way he looked down at her, almost in a primal way, made her excited. The last time she saw that look on his face was in London, right before they almost made it to bed. Unfortunately, he had stopped then. But he showed no signs of stopping now, at least not from hiding his feelings anyway. She wanted him so bad. When thoughts of feeling him moving in and out of her went through her mind, she instinctively sighed and ran her hand up his chest until it met the back of his neck, squeezing.
Their lips were so close now. Fran's breath skipped as she closed her eyes, and leaned in to reach his lips, but he held back. Opening her eyes, a little surprised, she didn't even have time to inquire as he took her hand and lead her across the room. His steps remained normal and casual, but she could feel his hand squeezing hers a bit rougher than normal. She wondered if he was taking her upstairs to finally make love. Was he finally going to give in to his urges?
In a dimmed, empty corridor, just outside the Hookah room, Fran suddenly found herself back against the wall there and Maxwell's mouth against hers. She whimpered delighted and let him take over this time. He did not disappoint as they shared the most sexually charged kisses she could ever remember them having. She wanted to be taken and he seemed more than willing to want to take. After a minute of sharing some titillating french kisses, they finally broke apart, both breathing unsteady. Foreheads together again, Fran grasped his collar and let out a sound reveling in the feelings and tingles all over her body. Maxwell cleared his throat and lifted his head to give her a kiss on the forehead.
"Feel free to do that anytime," she smiled wiping under neath the bottom of her lower lip with her thumb.
"What? Kiss you on the forehead," he teased.
"You can kiss me anywhere you wish to, anytime you want."
Maxwell felt his cock twitch and he looked beside them to make sure they were still alone.
"Does that make you feel good, that you can do that now," she giggled amused.
"Doesn't make me feel bad," he said, still getting used to this conversation with her.
"Max?"
"Hm?"
"Now that we've taken this step in our relationship, what happens next?"
"Well, when we get back home, I have full intentions of taking you on another date and continuing where we left off after Michael Bolton's concert," Maxwell then leaned in to her ear, "I want to be with you, and I think you deserve the most romantic night of your life and where are no interruptions."
Fran forced a smile but inside she was disappointed. He had misunderstood her question but what he said was confirmation to her that they weren't going to end the night the way she had hoped. His intentions were very sweet and well-thought out. He was a gentleman, Fran knew this, but it had been years of tension with one another. Though she loved and appreciated romance, Fran didn't need that right now.
Seeing her demeanor change, Maxwell furrowed his brows, "Are you okay?"
"You know what? I'm kind of tired. I think I'll head to my room."
Without another word she got out of his arms and started walking. Maxwell stood there a little dumbfounded before he caught up with her and grabbed her hand.
Fran gently took her hand from his, "I'll walk back by myself if that's okay."
"Fran…"
"I want to be alone right now is all. I'll see you tomorrow," she reached up and kissed his cheek with disappointment in her eyes before turning and walking away.
When Fran got into her room, she walked over to the large, veranda doors and threw open the drapes. Her eyes widened at the view. It looked like a scene from outside Dorothy's house in The Wizard of Oz. Even flashes of lightning illuminated the sand vortex.
"It's probably not safe to be that close to the windows right now."
Fran remained where she was unstartled by the sound of his voice, "No, probably not."
"Why did you leave like that?"
Fran didn't miss a beat, "I told you, I'm tired."
Maxwell shut the door as she finally turned around to face him, "Try again."
"I told you, I will see you tomorrow," she replied more irritated than stern.
"That's not an answer to my question," he said as he walked up to her.
Fran softened, sighing, "Please."
"Fine, I'll leave, but only after you tell me the real reason you left so disappointed?"
He now stood close enough she felt his shirt touch the bare skin of her stomach. "I'm not disappointed," Fran said with a nervous giggle but he could see right through it.
"I consider communication and honesty to be one of the most important things in a healthy relationship. I want to be honest and open with you sweetheart, especially now that I've made a commitment to you. I hope you want the same."
Fran nodded sincerely, "Of course I want that."
"Will you please tell me why you left then," he repeated softly.
Fran swallowed and looked away from his eyes, blinking, showing him her vulnerability - something she had only done a few times in the past 5 years she known him.
"Was it something I said?"
Fran saw concern on his face and she immediately placed her hands on his chest "No, no, of course not."
"Then what?"
Fran licked her lips before she perked up and took a few steps away from him, "Alright, okay," she sighed, "I want you."
When he was about to speak, clearly confused as he already knew this, she lifted her hand up to stop him, "I want you so badly, it hurts. The man that I'm head-over-heels in-love with came all the way across the world to tell me he loves me. It's been years of on again off again with us. How many times have we come close to making love but didn't? And granted, I think we're both even to blame in that department. But do you know what that actually did to me we didn't end up in each other's arms? It really can tear a girl up inside. I appreciate how much you care and I'd love more than anything to have a romantic date with you and be together like that…but later on. Ever since you came here, all I've wanted was to know what it's like to be with you, to touch you, to feel you touch me. Then you tell me about your plans for us 'when we get back home.' I respect it but that's why I needed to get away from you…to catch my breath. Do you understand? Just promise me, when we get home, please don't make me wait too long for that date, okay?"
Maxwell stood there, expressionless. He was a little amused, a little surprised but seriously turned on. She didn't know it, but he had hardened hearing her say all that out loud. It immediately pushed all his plans out the window.
Fran caught her breath when Maxwell said nothing as he took a few steps and dropped to his knees before her in one swift move. She suddenly froze, not moving an inch as he stared up at her. Maxwell swore he saw a bit of fright in her eyes as he remained silent before her. He broke their stare to look at her belly button before him and he leaned very slowly kissing it. Fran looked straight ahead, nearly holding her breath, as he softly kissed the skin on her stomach. Then his hands slid up the back of her thighs, landing on her tush. Grabbing it, he pushed her into him more. This move made Fran gasp and she lost her balance a bit, and braced her hands on his shoulders for support.
She closed her eyes as he opened his mouth on the skin above the low-rise skirt. He was gently sucking at her skin above the place that needed him most and his hands were pushing her into him in a domineering type of way. It shocked and excited her that a wave of arousal seemed to shoot up to her breasts, hardening her peaks, and downwards between her legs making her tingle. Maxwell kissed up her torso until his face rest in the clef between her breasts. He didn't kiss or touch her skin there; he just became still as if catching his breath.
"Please don't start something you're not going to finish tonight," she pleaded in a whisper.
Maxwell looked up at her before he stood back up on his feet, "Oh, I have every intention of being inside of you tonight."
Fran's eyes widened at his statement, the most blunt thing she had ever heard him say, and it made every part of her feel an orgasmic flutter. Maxwell placed his hand on her jaw and slowly reached for her lips.
Then there was a frantic knock and the two jumped at the sound of it. Maxwell immediately went over to the door but only opened it enough to see who it was.
"May I help you," he inquired at the butler.
"Oh, Mr. Sheffield, I'm sorry to intrude this late, but it is advised that you and your family temporarily move to the interior den on the main floor."
Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows and opened the door wider, "May I ask why?"
"Safety precautions from the storm, Sir. A window was blown out on the floor above here and we want all guests to remain safe."
"But.."
"Many apologies, Sir, but it's the Palace orders, so I must insist."
He dropped his shoulders, "Of course."
"I will wait."
"We know the way," he replied a bit annoyed.
The man nodded his head and left. Maxwell turned around to find Fran already making her way through her and Gracie's connecting door.
He sighed frustrated and softly banged the back of his head on the wall, "Bloody hell." Just then the electricity went out and Maxwell repeated himself with even more annoyance, "Oh, bloody hell."
Fran picked up one of the decorative hand fans and started fanning herself, her wrist becoming more fervent with gusto. Her chest was gleaming from the current lack of air conditioning from the power outage, but Maxwell could tell she was more than just hot, she was sexually frustrated like him and purposely not looking at him. It was not only amusing seeing her try to keep her cool but also a turn on that she was feeling as pent up as he was.
Fran needed to cool off. Looking up at the servants, they were currently serving ice cream to the kids so she decided to get a bottle of water herself.
"I'll be right back," she murmured for Maxwell's benefit as she got up. With his elbows leaning on his knees, he looked up with a primal expression watching her every move as she disappeared into the dark hallway that lead to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Fran grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator, backed up by an external generator, and for a moment she stood there letting the coldness wash over her damp body. She took a sip of water before twisting the cap back on. Shutting the large, steel door, Fran gasped startled as Maxwell appeared on the other side of it. It was dark, but she could tell enough it was him.
"Baby, you scared me."
Maxwell stared at her a moment before speaking, "Say that again."
"You scared me," Fran asked quizzically.
"No, the other thing," he said as he placed his hands on her hips.
"Baby," she repeated.
"I like that."
He turned her so her back gently pressed against the cold steel door and she smiled, "What are you doing?"
"You know, I'm kind of sick of interruptions whenever we're together."
"No kidding."
"It always happens at home and now even half way across the world."
His lips were dangerously close as his chest pressed against hers and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, "Well, a public kitchen isn't exactly the ideal place for the kind of privacy I assume you want right now."
"I just want to kiss you is all," he smiled.
"Liar," she mumbled as his lips finally descended on hers again.
"Oh, I'm sorry!"
The two looked behind them to see one of the young servants with a lantern staring at them embarrassed.
"Pardon my intrusion," the boy said, his eyes not quiet meeting theirs.
"Quite alright, I was just giving my girlfriend a kiss," Maxwell said with exasperation as he grabbed her hand and they walked past him.
"Say that again."
"What?"
"What you called me."
"Girlfriend?"
"That's the one."
"You like that?" he said smiling from ear to ear.
"Mm hmm," she purred as she cuddled up next to him.
He placed his arm around her shoulder as they reentered the living room, "You've basically been that for years haven't you," he said with more of a known statement than a question.
"Yeah, but it's nice to be known as your girlfriend now and not just the Nanny."
The two sat back down on the couch and held hands. They sat in comfortable silence and Fran secretly loved how he played with her fingers.
"What's that?"
Fran looked down at her upturned hand that he was examining,"It's a scar."
"When did you get that?"
"Two years ago. Sparkler accident on 4th of July."
He looked up at her shocked, "I never knew about this."
"You were out of town working. Niles took me to the ER."
"I'm sorry. I should have been there," he said as he kissed it.
"It's no big deal. It was only a few stitches."
"I can't believe I never noticed it."
"You just never looked hard enough before...baby," she smiled.
"Well, I will now."
"I know," she said and cuddled her head on his chest.
Maxwell opened his eyes squinting with confusion when he noticed the Palace room was now vacant. Gracie was not playing with the Prince and Fran was no longer laying against him. He sat up and checked his watch which read 2:15 a.m. The last time he remembered checking the time it said 12:30.
As he exited the main sitting room, he noticed one of the butler's walk by who confirmed to him that the storm had died down enough for everyone to go back to their rooms, but the power was still out. The butler informed him that he had fallen asleep and Miss Fine had tried to wake up but he wouldn't budge. Maxwell noted he must be more tired from jetlag than he thought.
Down the guest corridor, Maxwell held one of the battery-operated lanterns the Butler gave him. He peeked into Gracie's room, holding the lamp up. He could make out a lump in bed and heard her soft snoring, the same snore she's had since a toddler. Stepping back and closing the door a jar, he was going to go back into his own room when he decided to see if Fran was awake or not. Peeking in, he couldn't tell if she were in bed or not as the bed was further from the door and the draperies were handing around the mattress. Curiosity got the better of him. Max hesitated a moment before walking in.
The window drapes were open and the sandstorm blowing showed 0 visibility outside but fortunately didn't seem as dangerous as before, though there was still flashes of lightning. Fran was laying on top of the covers on her side, clad in her oversized Queens college t-shirt. Her hair was tousled and her face fresh, like she had taken a shower. As he stood next to her bed, he stared at her long, bare legs lit up from the flow of the lantern. The shirt was lying on her bum perfectly to cover what needed to be covered but less than an inch more and he get a full vantage point. He loved her legs. God did he love them. He had fantasized what they'd feel like - more than just the occasional hand against her knee. More importantly he fantasized about how they'd feel squeezing his waist. He wondered how strong she'd be. Her thigh master was a staple in her exercise regime, he knew that much.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, he observed her a moment before placing his finger on her ankle. Softly, he traced a path up her calf and to her thigh until the edge of her shirt reached his finger. Even asleep, her skin reacted to his touch as it gently formed goose bumps and it almost made him proud. He let his finger slide up her hip, slightly pushing the fabric of her shirt up with it. When he felt the edge of lace and saw the bikini strap of her panties, he stopped himself. As much as he was aroused and wanted nothing more to explore more, he didn't want to do it while she was asleep. He didn't want to make love to her while she was half asleep, either. No, he wanted her fully awake, aware and alert. Plus, she looked so peaceful.
Maxwell sighed and got off the bed. It seemed their intentions were not going to be fulfilled tonight.
Across the hall, in his guest room, Maxwell shut off the lantern on his nightstand and flipped the covers back about to get in bed. He was clad in his boxers as it was still pretty warm in the palace without the air conditioning. He had just sat on the edge of the bed when he heard the door click shut. He hadn't even heard it open.
Looking up, a flash of lighting struck at the same time, and for a second he saw Fran standing there. Maxwell remained frozen on the bed as his eyes followed her form as she slowly walked over to him. She said nothing as she stood standing before him. He saw the look in her eyes as the room brightly lit up again. Fran placed her hands on his shoulders and took a step forward towards him, her legs now encased between his open ones. Maxwell felt her loose t-shirt slightly touch his nose as he placed his hands on her hips. Bunging the shirt up in his hands, his nose now touched the skin of her stomach. He could smell the vanilla lavendar soap and it was enough for him to place a very soft kiss there, just like he had done earlier. As he did so, he felt her tummy quiver, making him smile inside.
She was always so in control of everything, but when it came to Mr. Sheffield's touch, her body always betrayed her.
"Max..." Fran whispered.
"Shh," he interrupted.
He didn't know what she was going to say. Maybe 'I love you' , maybe she was going to ask him if he wanted this, he didn't know. But, right now, no words needed to be spoken. He was already too far gone.
Fran took the shirt out of his hands and she slowly lifted it off her body, dropping it mindlessly behind her. The room lit up again and just enough for him to see a clear glimpse of her bare breasts, ones that he had touched but always fantasized about seeing. She was beautiful, proportioned just right for her body, and her nipples were already peaking with arousal. He felt another rush of erotic adrenaline hit, making his hard on become stiffer.
"Come here," he huskily whispered, gently pulling on her arm so she'd sit.
Fran used his bare shoulders for support, the bed gently giving to their weight, as she kneeled next to him before straddling his lap. As much as he wanted to push himself into her and fuck her until her eyes rolled back into her head, in this very moment, Max couldn't help but stay still as he was overcome by everything that had transpired. He had finally come to terms with his feelings for her and no regret had even crossed his mind as it had done so easily in the past. It all felt so very comfortable and natural which stunned him so. And now, here she was, half naked, and he was about to make love to her. He wanted to take in every moment.
Fran could not only hear the feelings going through him by the way he was breathing, but she knew he was overwhelmed when he didn't continue touching her. He needed a moment, and she let him have it, as she herself was in awe of their intimacy. But, after that moment, she took his hand and lifted it to her breast to give him a nudge. He didn't disappoint.
Passion and heat that they had shared so many times before, with such efficacy, took over. Their mouths clashed, hands explored naked backs, fingers caressed peaks. When his mouth devoured her breasts one by one, Fran thought she'd die of the sensation. Each flick of his tongue, and suck of his mouth, left tiny pre-orgasmic sparks building between her legs begging to be released.
Leaning back, Fran whimpered loudly, her head falling back so far that Max suddenly caught her back, holding her steady so she wouldn't fall. Giving her a break, he willfully lifted his head from her chest and brought her head back up so he could feel that tongue of hers again. She let out all that steam on his lips, her hands running through his hair, moving her hips against him as she did so. Feeling her grinding against his cock as they made out made him so mad for desire that he wouldn't even stop if the Sultan himself had walked in at that moment. When he felt Fran's hand reach down between them to grasp him, he practically growled. Removing her hand, he held her as he lifting them both until they fell back against the mattress.
Each flash that lit up the room, Fran could see the movements of Maxwell's head between her legs and the vision was almost better than the feelings itself. Then he angled differently and hit a spot so sensitive Fran gasped and arched her back. Nope, this was better. It had been so long since she felt a man pleasure her this way, and those times never even compared to now. Then, it was as if they had done it as a duty, that it was just a spot to hit momentarily, so they could get equal treatment. With Maxwell, he seemed to really want to please her, saturate her, and was enjoying it. Oh, he definitely knew what he was doing, Fran thought as she let out tiny whimpers, the sound slightly overpowering the sound of his devouring. He felt so delicious, she felt so beautiful under his touch, so wanted. It was so erotically stimulating. She had thoughts of this before but never in her wildest dreams did she ever think it would be as good as it was now...Oh.
Fran let in an intake of air with a cry as she felt the beginning rush of her orgasm. She instinctively tried to close her legs, but his arms wrapped around her thighs holding them open, his mouth become faster. Fran placed her hand on his head and closed her eyes. Her body wanted it so bad. She was so ready, but a primal urge took over her.
"Max," she pleaded, "No, no..."
Relief came over her, as her body felt disappointed when he suddenly stopped. In a hurry, they both rid him of his boxers.
"Please," she pleaded again breathlessly.
Max let out a moan himself as she was begging him to fuck her and he positioned himself. Nose to nose, he paused to share this with her. Breathing heavy, she placed her hands on his neck and kissed his lips. Eyes still open, he pushed himself into her. Her lips immediately left his to let out a tiny cry of relief and pleasurable aguish. Maxwell was stunned as his own silence, but he was so concentrated on her response first.
"You feel so good," she whispered encouraging him as he was full engulfed inside of her but not moving. He snapped out of it and let the feelings now rush over him. She was so tight, so warm, so wet. She felt as heavenly as he assumed she would.
"Oh, I love you so much," he said and kissed her passionately once more.
Fran didn't know how long it had been but she felt like she was about to have an out of body experience. The sound of his skin met hers over and over, paralleled by his heavy grunts meeting her whimpered cries. She held onto him for dear life as each thrust took her higher and higher. Just feeling him moving inside of her was enough to keep her satisfied, but oh, she knew she was going to lose it soon. The pleasure and pressure felt so freaking good. She knew he was holding out for her. She could feel and hear the desperation in him.
Fran angled up, trying to reach his lips through their quick thrusts. Maxwell met her and slowed the pace just enough so they could share another delicious kiss. They both got off on their kisses. His slower rhythm, and angle seemed to do the trick, because suddenly her hands grasped his lower back keeping him in place. She leaned her head back and moaned.
"Oh my gosh," she barely got out as he ground into her, his pelvis meeting her back and forth back and forth, "Oh, right there."
Maxwell felt himself about to come just then, and he groaned feeling her start to twitch around him, "Oh, Fran."
Her body suddenly stiffened, her hold on him got tight, and she became inaudible. Max suddenly felt her milking him long and hard and only then did she let out a satisfied cry. He felt so bloody hell relieved and proud. Holding her hips, he quickened the pace and thrust uncontrollably until he let out a series of groans as he released into her warmth over and over. Even after his orgasm was done, he could still feel himself jerking inside of her and he never wanted the sensation to end.
Fran held his body against hers, completely satisfied as he lay there spent. He was still inside of her, reveling in the feeling of their pulses meeting as their damp tummies breathed up and down.
When the nightstand lamp suddenly turned on, and the sound of the air-conditioner kicked on, they looked at one another.
"Hi," she smiled as his eyes met hers, his crows feet prominent.
"Hi," he said back giving her a kiss before rolling off of her. She suddenly missed the feeling of him and she immediately cuddled his side, resting her head on his chest.
"Sweetheart?"
"Hm?"
"I plan on doing that with you until the day I die."
Well, it wasn't exactly a marriage proposal but it was one hell of a statement in that was headed in that direction. Content for now, she smiled and closed her eyes.
