The room is dark, Glenn and Emily silhouettes against the screen. Tucked on the couch, Finn and I are in another world. I can’t even pretend I’m watching the movie. Images flash, words are spoken, but my attention is on the man next to me.
He shifts a little, moving his body so that we’re fully spooning. The wall of his body is rock hard yet it melds against mine, warm and comforting. Or it would be. Only my awareness is too keen now, moving in little flips through my belly. Something stiff nudges my ass, and I stiffen.
“Is that…” My voice is a ghost in the dark.
But he hears it. “Yes,” he says at my temple. “You get near him and he wants to say hello.”
Ducking my head, I smile into the pillow. The devil in me has me arching my back just a bit, pushing my ass into his hardness.
Finn grunts low in his throat. His hand spreads wide over my belly, holding me still. So slow, it’s barely a movement, he rocks against me. The rest of our bodies lay absolutely still. Oh, but my heart beats like a mad thing, violently pumping within my breast.
Finn’s breath chuffs out as if he can’t quite control it. His lips rest on my hair. “God, you smell good. You always smell so fucking good.”
It’s such a low murmur, I barely hear it over the sounds of the movie.
“It’s the coconut oil I used for my skin,” I whisper back, pretending everything is casual, that my sex isn’t starting to throb and my breath isn’t growing light.
Finn breathes in deep, lets it out slow. “It’s you. All you.”
A shudder wracks him, and he seems to go tight all over, as if he’s trying to hold onto his control. The hand at my belly stroking now, slow, small explorations.
My breasts grow heavy, my nipples drawing tight. I draw in a breath, let it out. The screen grows blurry. I can’t think.
Finn’s hand slips beneath my shirt. His fingers are rough with callouses but feather light against my skin. A ripple of pleasure dances over me, and I suck in a breath, silently urging him on. Up and down he traces, the edge of his thumb touching my belly button, the tip of a finger glancing along my waistband.
His hand moves higher, and the blunt end of his thumb grazes the bottom curve of my breast. We both freeze. The shudder that moves through Finn is almost violent. His thumb presses into my bare breast and he shakes again, a near-silent groan leaving him.
My lids flutter, wanting to close. I press my cheek agains the couch pillow, waiting, willing him to touch me. A gust of breath warms my hair, and then he slides his hand up. The warm weight of his hand over my breast feels so good, I gasp.
Finn’s body jerks, shoving against mine. But he palms my breast, rubbing in gentle circles. So good. Such a perfect tease. My breath grows shorter, my thighs trembling. In the dark, hidden beneath a blanket, he fondles me, lightly playing. The tip of his finger worries my nipple, toying with the stiff tip.
“I want to see you.” His finger skims over my nipple. “Suck you here.”
A light pinch. Luscious tension sparks down my belly, pooling in my sex like wet heat.
I can’t take it. Moving as if in a fog, I roll onto my back, my body resting in the circle of his arms. The action sends Finn’s hand skimming over my skin to my other breast. He palms it with possession, as our eyes meet. Neither of us speaks.
I want to kiss him. I want it so badly my lips are swollen with the need to feel his.
We can’t kiss. Not here. It would be too loud, they’d notice. And when I kiss Finn, I know I won’t stop there. When I kiss him, I want to consume him. I see that understanding reflected in his eyes. This is killing him, but he love it. He’s reveling in it.
Brows furrowed, gaze hooded, he fondles me, tugs my poor, achy nipple—teasing me.
It feels good to be teased, to let the anticipation build and simmer. But he’s getting away with it far too easily. Carefully, I ease onto my side and face him. He watches me move, a light of expectation in his eyes. Holding his gaze, I slide my hand under his shirt.
Finn’s tight belly flexes beneath my palm as if he’s ticklish. God, he’s warm, his body hard but his skin soft. I rub him there, enjoying his textures and the way he twitches as if he can’t decide whether to pull away or press in closer.
Closer wins out when he cants his hips and slides his thigh between mine.
With a happy sigh, I turn his way. My lips touch the smooth curve where his neck meets his shoulder. He smells delicious, clean like soap, spicy like sex and pheromones. The fragrance of Finn goes straight to my head and makes it light, while the rest of me becomes heavy and hot.
I lick that curve, and he grunts—a breath of sound. His grip on my breast tightens a fraction.
Smiling, I tug the button of his jeans, and they pop open. Finn goes utterly still. He’s fairly humming now, he’s so tight. Delicious. I want to eat him up.
My hand slides under the waistband of his boxer briefs. His cock rises to meet me, fever-hot, silky-smooth. He’s so hard he pulses. I give him a long, easy stroke.
Finn’s breath comes out in quick, light gusts. He’s shaking now, but he barely moves as I quietly jack his cock. Up and down, squeezing just a bit at the tip. Finn’s free arm snakes beneath me and gathers me closer.
We’re wound together, my face tucked in the warm hollow of his neck, my hand stroking his dick, as he plucks and toys with my nipple. He can’t do more. We can’t move too much without being noticed. The huge muscle of his thigh, notched between my legs flexes rhythmically in a maddening push-release against my clit.
Trembling, he rocks his hips, slowly fucking himself in my grasp. I run my thumb over his tip, tease the ridge of his wide head. The tremors increase. I don’t know who is shaking more now. I could come like this. But I want his release more. Straining against him, I find the sensitive skin at his neck and suckle it as my grip tightens on his dick.
The sound he makes is tortured, almost a whimper and then he jerks so hard, I nearly lose my grip. Wet heat spills over my fingers. We both shudder then, gasping as he works through his orgasm.