I open the package. “I’m ready.”
I want him.
In less than eight hours from the last time, Finn is inside me again. It’s different this time, in the light of day. There’s no darkness to hide behind, just me and Finn and the sky outside.
He keeps the sheets around his waist, making a tent of his body. His focus drifting from the look on my face to the flush on my chest to the place where he disappears inside of me again and again.
“Is it good?” I ask.
He thrusts, pauses, looks at me. “So good. Can you come?” he asks. “Do you want to?”
“I do. But not like this.”
He pulls out, lies beside me. Turns me like a ragdoll and slides back into me from behind, on our sides.
I press back into him. “So good.”
He slips his hand between my legs, petting my clit in the same slow rhythm that he fucks me. We move slow, lazily, a perfect morning fuck. And there’s no way I could come like this, or he could either. It’s like he wants to remind me thatthisis the point, the pleasure, the closeness; the coming is secondary.
Eventually, he pulls out, stumbles to the bathroom and comes back condomless, a cloth in his hand. He wipes the spermicide away from my skin, then wraps his arms around my legs and licks me open. He sucks my clit over and over just to hear my hitched breaths and gasps. Soon he is humming hisapproval as the tension pulls tighter inside me, as I press up into him. He slips his fingers inside, two, then three, and he talks—he talks—me through it.
“I think you’re close, Nora baby.” He breathes the words against my stomach.
“You’re so wet.”
And, “I’m going to slide right out of you, if I’m not careful.” He leans back down to suck my clit again, lick me. When he takes his mouth away, he replaces it with his thumb. Heat floods my chest, pools low in my back. My fingers tingle, my toes. My back arches as he strokes me. I dig my heels into the mattress, fist the sheets.
“I see you working for it,” he whispers, his hand smoothing circles on my belly and I nod, teeth clenched, because it’s there, right there. “I know I tease you about it.” He keeps his hand on my stomach, his fingers stroking inside me. “But I love how intense you are, Nora. How focused. You set a goal, and you’ll stop at nothing to achieve it.
“Be a good friend,” he says. “You’re locked in.
“Buy your own condo.” He places a kiss on my hipbone. “Done.
“Cook an eight-course meal.” Now, my pubic bone. “Easy.”
“Technically…” I gasp as he licks my clit. “It was family style.” This time he bites my inner thigh, and I moan as he sucks on the spot, tonguing it to ease the sting.
“Either way,” he says softly. “Ilovethat about you, Nora. You work so hard for everything, and you deserve the reward. So, when I say I’ll do this for as long as you need me to, as long as it takes. Know that I mean it.”
I believe him. That’s the thing about Finn, sometimes he’s late, and sometimes he’s silly, but he’s always there no matter what.
And even though what he’s doing with his fingers, his mouth, feels amazing, right now I just want himhere.
I replace his hand with mine on my clit. “Get a condom.”
And he does. He settles between the cradle of my thighs, and he’s right, I’m so wet, he slides right in. I anchor him to me, my legs wrapped around his hips, my hand in his hair. His weight is a comfort. Every stroke of his cock inside me exactly what was missing.
“Kiss me,” I whisper against his mouth. I keep my eyes open and so does he, the kiss mostly tongue and teeth. I say his name as it happens, as every nerve in my body finally fires, like my pussy was waiting to be filled up first. I come around him, on our hands, my hips jerking their own rhythm on his cock. I bite the meat of his shoulder to muffle the sounds and he pulses inside me, burying his own voice in my hair. It lasts forever but even when it’s over I don’t let him leave. I keep him inside me, on top of me, kissing, just kissing. Because he loves my intensity, my seriousness, and I love that he sees me so clearly yet still doesn’t want to look away. But I don’t know how to tell him that without sayingI love you.
So, I kiss him and kiss him and hope he can hear the words in the silence.
We makeit to the bathroom, the shower, and Finn—in an effort to “protect” my “poor knees,”—even attempts to leave the shower,soaking wet, and get a condom from the drawer beside my bed. But once I assure him that I do not care how strong he is, I won’t let him hold me against the wall and fuck me because those Life Alert commercials traumatized me, we both agree to sacrifice our knees.
Finn gets bored waiting in the spray while I shampoo twice and leave the conditioner in for at least five minutes. Hedisappears into my bedroom with a towel wrapped low around his hips and another wrapped high on his head.
For a man who seemed to have no experience baking a cake, he flips pancakes like a career line cook. When I finally make it out of my bedroom, shampooed and conditioned, cleansed and moisturized, he’s already got a stack of them next to the stove on the last clean plate in my whole apartment, surrounded by all the dishes we haven’t gotten around to yet.
“What are you wearing?” I ask, stopping halfway between him and the bedroom door.
