“Couldn’t wait to get home to you.” Slowly he starts unbuttoning my shirt, placing soft, reverent kisses down my neck as he goes. It feels so good, my skin pulls tight with heat and pleasure.
His breath hitches when he finds out I’m not wearing a bra, but he doesn’t part my shirt, just kisses my neck and the little hollow between my collarbones. His tender care lulls me into a languid haze, and I lower my head to his shoulder.
“Sometimes…” He presses his lips to my skin. “I hate that you’ve seen my guys naked.”
My hand rests on his biceps, my fingers tracing the hard curve there. “Going all caveman on me, Mannus?”
“Yes.” He runs the backs of his knuckles down the center of my chest to my belly. I shiver in response, arching my back just a bit. My breast swell with heat, my nipples tightening. I want them exposed. I want his hands on them. But he keeps my shirt where it is, barely parted, revealing only my cleavage and the little indent of my navel.
His hand spreads out on the small curve of my belly. “I hate that you’ve seen their dicks.”
I huff out a laugh. “But I only want yours.”
“Mmm…” Slowly he glides up towards my ribs.
My lids flutter, that touch so wonderfully tender but intent.
The tip of his thumb brushes the sensitive curve of my breast. I go still, silently willing him to move higher. But I don’t ask. Not yet. It’s too good, the way he teases me. He stays there, rubbing the underside of my breast with gentle fingers.
A sound escapes me, low, needy.
“Still hate it,” he mutters, kissing my neck. His hand gently cups me, feeling the slight weight of my breast. I shift in his lap, feel the hard swell of his cock against my ass.
“Get over it,” I murmur, half-heartedly. His fingertip has found my nipple. He circles it, skims the sensitive tip.
Mouth against my neck, Finn laughs, the vibrations humming over my skin. “I suppose I’ll have to find a way.” He kisses his way down to the rise of my breast while his finger continues its slow torture, barely touching.
As if he’s taking an illicit peek, he lifts my shirt and draws it away from my breast. “What do we have here?” He kisses my nipple, giving it a small suck.
I squirm, hold the back of his head so he can’t get away. He chuckles again, licks my breast from curve to tip as his free hand roams to find my other breast. Warm hands kneed me. His mouth is hot and wet.
Lust rushes through me like a fever. I rub my thighs together with impatience. But he ignores that. His hand plumps my breast, holding it firm as he tugs on my nipple with his mouth.
“Finn,” I warn, beg, I’m not sure which.
He nuzzles the hollow of my throat as his hands pluck at the sore tips of my breasts. “Love that sound. You whimpering my name.”
I do it again and he slides the shirt off my shoulders. His mouth finds mine. He kisses me, abuses my nipples, until I’m whimpering again, wiggling in his lap with need. Finn and I might have our fears, but here, in this way, we are perfection.
With a last kiss, he lays me back on the bed and then grasps the waistband of my leggings and panties. “Lift,” he orders. I raise my butt and he pulls. I’m left in only my knee-high pink socks with ridiculous Christmas elves on them.
“Take them off,” I say, lifting my foot.
But Finn just grins. “Oh, no, I love these.” He grabs the arch of my foot and gives my toes a kiss before lowering my leg.
He looms over me, his chest bare, track pants riding low on his hip and not hiding the rise of his hard cock. Gorgeous as hell. But battered and bruised. I don’t want him to feel more pain.
“I thought you said I had to do the work tonight.”
His smile is lazy, as he looks me over. “You do. Spread your legs for me, Chess.”
Hands on my knees, I do as he asks. A guttural sound rumbles in his throat, and his gaze settles on where I’m swollen and wet. “Good girl.”
It should piss me off, what he says, and the way he says it, as if I am in fact his good little girl. But I picture myself as I am, stretched out on his bed, my thighs spread wide, pink knee-highs on, and it feels illicit, so hot that I tremble, lift my tits a little higher in the air.
“So pretty,” he murmurs, then settles himself between my legs. He sets his big hand low on my belly, holding me still, his thumb touching my clit. It distracts me, and when he kisses my sex like a man starved, I yelp, my body twitching.
But he doesn’t let me get away. His hand keeps me in place as he goes at me. And I pant, going both cold and hot. He licks my sex as if it’s warm candy.
“Finn…” I can’t take it. I throb.
Over the length of my body, his eyes meet mine. “Pinch those tight, little nipples,” he orders between kisses.
My breath grows short, as I lift my hands to my breasts. The first pinch on the aching tips has me moaning.
He grunts in approval. “Give them a tug. Nice and slow.”
I do and my back leaves the mattress as I gasp.
“Good,” he says, his thumb toying with my clit. “Good girl.”
It shouldn’t get me so hot, but it does. My lids flutter, my thighs fall further open even as I writhe. And his gaze slides from mine to focus between my legs. That he’s staring there makes everything more sensitive. I revel in the exposure.
His finger comes up to trace the lips of my sex. He finds my opening and toys with it, dipping in just enough that I feel it but not enough to satisfy. I whimper and his gaze flicks to mine before sliding back down. That thick finger sinks in. In and out. Just the tip. Not enough.
“Finn…”
I’m panting harder, my thighs trembling.
He plunges in deeper then pulls back out, and his finger travels downward. He touches the entrance to my ass and a strangled sound leaves my lips. But he doesn’t move away. He strokes me with the slightest of movements.
When he talks, his voice is rough, but his tone is almost conversational. “You ever taken it in here?”