Part 17 (1/2)
”I want this,” she whispered, clutching at him. ”I want . . .”
His mouth was at her ear, bringing her a delicious spine s.h.i.+ver. ”Name it.”
”You. Please, Finn, I want you.”
Raising his head, he stared at her before kissing her again, stroking his tongue to hers in a rhythm that made her hips grind to his. The soft denim of his jeans rasped over the tender skin of her inner thighs and thrilling to it, she wrapped her legs even tighter around him, drawing him closer, the hottest, neediest part of her desperately seeking attention.
Finn said something low and inaudible, and then let out a quiet laugh as he nipped her lower lip, her throat, and then . . . her towel slipped from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
He'd loosened it with his teeth.
When he put his hot mouth to her nipple, she nearly went over the edge right then and there. He cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his big warm hands, s.h.i.+fting his attention from one to the other, his stubbled jaw gently sc.r.a.ping over her in the most bone-melting of ways, his movements sensual, so slow and erotic she could hardly stand it. ”Finn.”
He lifted his head and held her gaze while he spread the towel from her, letting it fall to her sides before he worked his way south, lazily exploring every inch of her like he had all the time in the world, humming in pleasure when he found the little compa.s.s on her hip. He spent a long moment there, learning her tattoo-with his tongue.
And all she could do was grip the counter on either side of her, head tipped back because it was too much effort to hold it up, her nerve endings sending high bolts of desire through her at his every touch.
She was completely naked to his fully dressed body now. Open, exposed . . . vulnerable in more ways than one. Certainly more than she'd allowed in far too long, although she didn't feel a single ounce of self-consciousness or anxiety about it.
She felt nothing but the sharp lick of hunger and need barreling down on her like a freight train in tune to his clever mouth and greedy hands. She was afraid if he so much as breathed on her special happy place, she'd go off like a bottle rocket.
And then he dropped to his knees.
His hands glided up her inner thighs, holding her open so his lips could make their way homeward bound. About thirty minutes ago she'd thought she needed steak more than anything but it turned out that wasn't true. She needed this, with Finn.
One of their phones buzzed, either hers on the floor in her pants pocket, or his from wherever he had it tucked away. She started to straighten but then his fingers stroked her wet flesh and she forgot about the phone. h.e.l.l, she forgot her own name. ”Oh G.o.d, don't stop. Please, Finn, don't stop . . .”
”I've got you.” And then he replaced his teasing fingers with his tongue, giving her a slow, purposeful lick. She whimpered as he continued to nuzzle her, luring her into relaxing again-and then his lips formed a hot suction.
And that was it, she'd become the bottle rocket and was gone, launched out of orbit. h.e.l.l, out of the stratosphere. When she came back to planet Earth, she realized she had Finn by the hair, her fingers curled tight against his head, her thighs squeezing his head like he was a walnut to be cracked. ”I'm so sorry!” she gasped, forcing herself to let go of him. ”I nearly ripped out your hair.”
The words backed up in her throat when he turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, sending her up a very male, very protective, possessive, smug smile. ”Worth it,” he said, and licked his lips.
She nearly came again. ”Please come here.”
He rose to his feet and her hands went to his stomach, sliding beneath his s.h.i.+rt to feel the heat of his hard abs. So much to touch, and the question became up or down . . .
His eyes were dark and heated, flickering with amus.e.m.e.nt as he read the indecision on her face.
”I'm not exactly sure what to do with you,” she whispered.
”I could make a few suggestions.”
She laughed a little nervously but let her hands glide up his torso, shoving his s.h.i.+rt up as she went. He was so beautifully made . . . ”Off,” she said softly.
He had the s.h.i.+rt gone in less than a heartbeat and she soaked up the sight of his broad shoulders and chest while her fingers played at the waistband of his jeans. They were loose enough that she could dip in and- ”Oh,” she breathed, sucking in a breath as she encountered much more than she'd bargained for.
His hot-and amused-gaze held hers. On the surface, he was calm and steady and unflappable as always, but there was an underlying erotic tension in every line of his body, a sense that he was holding back, keeping his latent s.e.xuality in check.
She popped the top b.u.t.ton of his Levi's.
And then the second.
And then she'd freed him entirely, pus.h.i.+ng his knit boxers aside and all his glory sprung into her hand-and there was a lot of glory. ”Finn?”
His voice was rough and husky. ”Yeah?”
”I think I figured out what I want to do with you.”
It involved the condom that he luckily had in his wallet and her leaning back on the cold tile of her bathroom countertop, but they managed.
And when he slid deep and then grasped her a.s.s in his two big hands and roughly pulled her closer so that he went even deeper, she arched her spine and let her head fall back and felt more alive than she'd felt in far too long. She got chills all over her body and with a wordless murmur, Finn brought her upright so that she was pressed tight to his warm chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she could feel her toes curl. She clenched tight, eliciting a groan from him, and held on. She knew she was digging her nails into his back but she couldn't stop, couldn't breathe . . . ”Finn-”
”I know.” His hands slid south, cupping her a.s.s, protecting her from the tile. When he did something diabolically clever with those long fingers, she came in a giant, unexpected burst.
From somewhere outside of herself she felt Finn lose control as well. They ended up smashed up against one another, gripping each other hard, faces pressed together, breathing like lunatics.
They stayed like that for a few minutes and then slowly separated. She flopped back against the mirror, not caring that it was chilly against her overheated skin.
Finn sagged against the counter like he wasn't all that st.u.r.dy himself. He made quite the sight, s.h.i.+rtless, his jeans opened and dangerously low.
s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. She'd do something about it but she felt like a boneless rag doll.
A very sated one. ”I'm hoping it was the antiseptic spray,” she managed.
”I'm hoping not,” Finn said.
She needed to move but couldn't find her limbs to save her life. Finn didn't seem to have the same problem, he used his arms to lean over her and kiss her, eyes open like maybe he was taking her vitals.
She quivered for more. Good G.o.d. Since when was she addicted to s.e.x?
Finn caught the look in her eyes and he laughed low in his throat. s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. ”Give me a minute,” he said, voice husky.
She arched a brow, impressed. ”Just one?”
”Maybe one and a half,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth. ”Tops.”
Her good parts actually fluttered. Seriously, what was wrong with her?
”How's the road rash?” he asked, helping her down off the counter and rewrapping her up in the towel.
It took her a moment to get her brain organized enough to even remember what he was talking about. ”Good.”
”Liar.” His voice was quiet and very, very s.e.xy. She wondered if he'd ever considered a side job as a phone s.e.x operator. He'd be fantastic at it. Or maybe he could just read her a book, any book at all . . .
His phone buzzed once more and he blew out a sigh. ”That's twice. I'm sorry, I have to look.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.