“Eva.” Finn’s groans take on a warning note. “Baby, I’m close—”
I don’t pull away. I can’t. Not when I still need him, when my body is wound so tight and only this madness can satisfy me. I angle my head, taking him all the way to the back of my throat, and Finn make a noise halfway between a protest and a plea. I move again, sliding my tongue along the length of him, then taking him deep, almost to the hilt, and then again, faster this time. I hear him gasp, hear his ragged groan, but I don’t stop, not for a second, even as I quicken the furious pace of my fingers between my damp thighs. God, it feels too good, being possessed by him like this: on my knees, mouth open to take that incredible cock as far as I can. I’ve never given myself to a man like this, never craved surrender the way I need it now. He could do whatever he wants with me, and I would still come, begging for more.
My body tightens, my own climax close. I take his cock as deep as I can, sucking hard as I feel him thicken and surge against my tongue.
“Eva—” Finn warns again, trying to pull away, but I reach up, blindly grasping his hands and pulling them back to my head again, to keep me in place, to pin me there to take it all. “Fuck,” Finn curses, realizing what I mean, and it’s enough to send him hurtling over the edge, his body shuddering hard as he suddenly explodes, gushing hot and wet in the back of my throat.
I swallow down every last drop, surrendered to the pleasure crashing through me, the wild song in my bloodstream and, God, the dazed release in his eyes. I climax in a shudder against my own hand, watching him finally fall apart.
Fourteen.
We head back to the house, my heart still racing. I feel drunk, even though I’ve only sipped champagne. My body is flushed and soaring, every whisper of breeze slipping over my hyper sensitive skin in a new rustle of sensation. Finn’s barely spoken, rowing us back to his dock with steady strokes, but as he reaches his hand to help me up the ladder again, I feel him startle to my touch, his eyes searching mine in the dark.
“Do you want to go back to the party?” he asks slowly. “Or…”
There’s a world of possibility wrapped up in that word, fading into the night. I can hear the party noise again, music and laughter, bright lights glowing through the trees. Lottie must be having a great time, Delilah too. Inside, I would be swallowed up in the crowd again, a safe buffer between Finn and I for the rest of the night.
But I don’t want safe anymore.
“Take me home,” I say, blushing to hear the desire in my voice. Finn squeezes my hand, and we cut across the lawn to my car. I hand him the keys. I don’t think I could focus on the road, not even if my life depended on it. He opens the passenger door for me, and I slip inside, my mind racing ahead of us, to everything waiting back at my place. The images flash in my mind, sensual and wild, until I’m almost surprised to find the engine shut off, and us right outside the front door.
I let us in. The dark here feels different somehow, full of intent. I’m surprised to find myself nervous, even after everything. “You want a drink?” I ask brightly, flipping the lights on and bustling through to the kitchen. I open the fridge. “I have water, and beer, and juice—”
“I want you.”
Finn’s hands are on my waist from behind. His voice low in my ear. I shiver, sinking back against him, basking in the heat from his body, and the cool chill from the open refrigerator. My skin prickles and my nipples tighten, stiff against my camisole.
Staying behind me, Finn brings his hands around to cup my breasts, gently stroking and squeezing at the tender peaks. I sigh in pleasure, resting my head on his shoulder, arching up as one hand glides over my stomach and teases as the band of bare skin where my top meets the waist of my skirt.
“Bedroom?” Finn asks, kissing the arch of my neck and making me shiver.
“Upstairs.”
He doesn’t move, though, just slides his hand under my skirt, down between my legs. I arch back against him, still wound so tight from before in ways my own roving fingers couldn’t satisfy. Now, he finds my aching center and slowly caresses me through my panties.
“You want me,” he whispers, like a victory.
I sigh. “I always want you.”
I turn, finding his mouth again. This kiss is slow, sizzling with tension. Finn edges my legs apart and presses his palm against me. I moan against him as he teases, sliding his fingers under my damp panties and brushing them lightly over my slick heat.
Yes, I implore him silently. There.
Finn slides his finger inside me and bites down softly on my lower lip.
I shudder, the sweetness edged with a touch of pain. My body is wound tight, but I can barely breathe, suspended on the delicate caress of his hands, and the gentle curl of his finger, beckoning just right. Over and over, and—