He lowers me to the floor, allowing my breasts to slide along his chest. As he watches and finishes stripping out of his clothes, I back away, pulling off my dress, tugging down my tiny hot pink thong, and unsnapping the bra now clinging to my waist. The shoes, those I leave on.
Finn kicks away his briefs, prowling forward and hardening as he makes his way to where I wait by the bed. My nipples are so taught they sting. I can’t even think straight, reaching for him and finding his mouth, eager for his kiss and more of his touch.
I nip his chin as my hands lower to rub his length. Never have I had a lover like Finn. It’s so easy for me to desire him, to want to please him, to let him take me. It’s not a chore or something expected. It’s something I hunger for, the taste of his skin so delicious against my tongue.
I allow him to lead us, my trust something he seeks and equally turns him on.
He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth and positions us at the edge of the bed, in front of the mirror anchored above the dresser. I almost expect him to bend me over. Instead he sits, spreading my legs open and pulling me forward so I’m hovered over his lap.
My back is against his chest, giving us a very nice view of our reflection. Without needing to ask, I lower myself down, placing my hands on my knees to keep my balance as he rubs his silky head against my folds.
My body shudders as he guides me down slowly. This position is new to me, the fit tighter. I arch my back, scrunching my face and releasing a moan as he fills me once more.
I open my eyes, releasing a shudder. The tense angle of his jaw demonstrates his need to pump into me. But he doesn’t want to hurt me. That doesn’t mean I’m not more than ready for us to begin.
My shoulders tremble as I slide against his lap, the ecstasy I feel coiling around my lower half and clenching my muscles. I withdraw, slowly before pushing him back inside me, my leisurely pace causing me to feel every part of him and making me grunt.
As I make another pass, I lift my chin to look at Finn, hoping he likes what I’m doing and pleased at what I find. His expression is one of agonized bliss. “Does it feel good, baby?” he asks.
“Yes,” I bite out, my eyelids fluttering when I realize how easily this position reaches my G spot.
Finn’s fingers dig into my hips, his chin falling forward to rest on my shoulder. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, gasping. He lifts his head, pegging our reflections with one hell of a glance. “This is how I want to watch you come.”
My body quivers from his words and my need to move faster. I glide forward and back, whimpering with each sweep of my hips.
With a sharp swear, Finn snaps his head back. My head lolls forward as that familiar ache builds with my increasing speed. It feels so good, I have trouble focusing and maintaining my pace. He clasps my hips, keeping us going. My chest heaves in and out, my body shaking as my core grips him tight.
“Touch yourself,” he tells me, his raspy tone lowering.
It’s something I’ve never felt comfortable doing before Finn. But he unleashes my feral side, the one that thrives on pleasing him. My hand slips between my legs as his arm curls around my waist. I force myself to augment our speed, clenching my teeth and trying not to full out scream as I writhe against him.
Our eyes appear closed in the mirror, but I know better. We’re both watching, we both like what we see, and we’re both losing control. Something this hot shouldn’t appear so beautiful. Yet the way Finn’s hands pass against the swells of my breasts, the curves of my body, and the way they thread through my hair, it is beautiful. He may whisper dirty words, he may groan with how good it feels, but it’s the way we come alive that proves we’re making and sharing love.
This time when I finish, I can’t keep my balance―not in these shoes and certainly not from the force of our passion. I stumble forward, every inch of me hot and electrified.
Finn hooks his arm around me, catching me and keeping us together as he guides me forward. He steadies me against the dresser, pumping fast as I grip the edge. Another orgasm builds inside me, causing me to fall limp against the slick wood as he finishes filling me.
“Fuck,” he gasps, collapsing almost on top of me.
It’s like he can’t believe what happened or how hot it was. Not that I blame him. It’s like that with Finn, every time is almost like our first time, the need to please each other overwhelming our senses.
I push my crazy hair out of my face, watching as he nuzzles my neck and trails sweet kisses along my heated skin.
“I love you,” I want to say. But I don’t. I don’t want him to think this feeling stems solely from the physical part of our relationship, so I promised myself I wouldn’t tell him anymore in bed. That doesn’t mean I don’t want him to say it.
If it’s how he feels.