Finn pauses, then picks up a fragment of the treat and lifts it to my lips. My pulse skitters wildly, but I force myself to hold his gaze, parting my lips wider. He slides it into my mouth, and I sigh, sweetness melting over my tongue.
“Good?” Finn’s voice is rough. I nod. God, I’m playing with fire here, but damn, it feels too good to stop. The air between us is shimmering with heat and wild lust, and I’m wondering how far this will go, what it’ll take before one of us breaks.
Finn opens the other box and breaks off a chunk of the chocolate cake. He feeds it to me slowly, and the bitter, rich flavor hits me in a rush of sugar high. I shudder.
Finn’s jaw tightens.
Slowly, deliberately, I capture his hand before he can pull away, and lick the frosting from his fingertips.
He exhales in a rush.
Who am I right now? I feel drunk on power and desire. Up here on the cold steel hood of this car, nothing but the ocean waves crashing to drown out my thundering heart, I feel brave. I feel reckless.
I feel invincible.
Finn’s eyes are dark in the moonlight, still so controlled. He’s barely touching me. He scoops chocolate frosting from the cake and brings it to my mouth again.
This time, I part my lips wider. He eases his thumb into my mouth, and I suck the sweetness from his bare skin, my eyes still locked on his.
“God, Eva,” he groans. “You don’t even know…”
“Try me,” I whisper, intoxicated by sugar and sex, and just the feel of him. The promise of so much more.
Finn pulls back. “Do you know what you do to me?” he demands slowly, searching deep in my eyes. “Every girl, every city, it’s always you. I feel you when I push inside them,” he continues roughly. “It’s your voice I hear when they’re begging for more. I’ve fucked you a hundred times over, in every position, in every goddamn way, and it’s never good enough. Not even close.”
My head spins. His dirty words strike at the very heart of me, and in an instant, I’m so turned on I can barely breathe. I shouldn’t want him, not like this, but I can’t hide it. Finn’s lips curl in surprise.
“I guess things really do change,” he murmurs, stroking along my cheek. “There I was, remembering my sweet, innocent Eva. But maybe you’re not so sweet anymore.”
He has no idea, but I don’t want to break the moment, so I push the past aside.
He tangles his fingers in my hair, then tugs me closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Is that what you like now, baby?” His voice is rasping, seductive. “You want me to tell you all the filthy, wicked things I’m going to do to you? How I jerk off imagining your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock, taking every last drop and begging me for more.”
I shiver against him, my mind flooded with those same images. And God, I want it too. He’s not the only one who came alone, nothing but sweet fantasies to fuel his pleasure. The nights I’ve spent in the darkness of my own restless mind, tasting him, touching him, feeling his body surge and come undone.
I pull back far enough to look into those ruinous eyes. I’m too far gone to pretend any longer. There’s nothing but secrets between us now, hot and forbidden. “Every night,” I whisper. “You fuck me every night, and I come, and come, but I never get enough.”
Finn’s eyes flash with surprise, and just as I’m feeling the shame of my confession, he shoves me down over the hood of his car, and claims my mouth with a hard, devastating kiss.
Yes.
I arch up against his body, already lost to the feel of him, the solid muscle covering every inch of me. His mouth is demanding, fevered and out of control, but I want him just as bad: tasting, licking up into his mouth and devouring him in any way I can. His hands slide over me in a haze of heat and bright, fevered sensation, gripping my waist, squeezing at my ass as he tears his mouth from mine and licks down my neck. I moan out loud, not even caring how the sound echoes on the midnight winds. All that matters is the slow, damp slide of his mouth on my skin, and the deep coil of lust demanding and hot between my thighs. I wriggle against him, trying to kiss him again, but Finn just laughs and grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. He continues his slow, infuriating path along my collarbone, licking and sucking at the tender flesh.
Yes. God, there.
He strokes softly under the straps of my dress with his free hand, teasing. I make a keening sound, pressing up towards his touch. But Finn doesn’t rush, doesn’t submit for a moment. He just slowly strokes lower, barely skimming his fingertips over my breasts, a whisper of cotton and lace bra protecting me from the true bliss of his touch.
“Finn,” I groan, needing him with a fierce desire that is brighter, wilder than anything I could even imagine just a few hours ago.
“Shhh,” he whispers, stroking again, infinitesimally stronger. “Shh, baby girl. You’ll get what you need. I promise you that.”