“Okay,” he nodded. “It just might—oh!” I ghosted my fingers over him, brushing gently. “… it just might take longer. Might not work the way we want…”
“We’ve got all the time in the world, flyboy,” I smiled, brushing my lips over his. There was something about this side of him, the intensely vulnerable and unsure part, that made me bolder. All I cared about was taking care of him, growing wet at the thought of showing him exactly what I thought about his body and his fears.
I moved so I was only straddling one leg, shifting his farther apart with my knee as the heat of his thigh pressed against my through the silk of my trousers. His shirt had ridden up slightly from the movement, revealing the dark trail of hair over solid muscle that led from his navel downward, and I had to resist the urge to trace it with my fingertips.
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of his pants and briefs, pulling gently as he lifted his hips, the dark trail of hair continuing down. He sprang free, and seeing all of him made my mouth water; the contrast of darker skin, the ridge of veins, the way he was already responding to just my gaze. He was beautiful in a way I needed to explore with every sense I had. He wasn’t completely hard, but I could work with it.
I trailed my fingertips over the mesh pattern on his thigh where they’d harvested skin for a graft. His muscle contracted below it. The texture was so different from the surrounding skin, smoother in some places, rougher in others, but still warm, still him, still perfect.
I was aware of him watching me, eyes fixed on me to see how I’d react. I leaned over and kissed the scars, feeling his body relax slightly. I reached for the tissue box and set it next to him.
“You’re gonna need those,” I winked as I straightened and shucked off my jacket, tossing it on the chair before tucking my hair behind my ears. “You’ll know when.”
Finn took a deep shuddering breath.
“Look at you,” I cooed, wrapping my fingers around his shaft and pulling gently at the velvet over steel, hot and heavy in my palm. “Finn, you’re magnificent.”
That earned me a moan as he grew a bit harder. This was easier than he realized, each reaction giving me a perfect roadmap. I leaned forward and kissed his jaw, then his neck, working him methodically with my hand, base to head. I licked my thumb and stroked it over the tip.
“That feels so good,” he gripped the duvet. “Fuck, Alex, if I knew you were this good with your hands…”
“Mmm,” I smiled, backing down his body a bit. “Let that be a lesson to you.” I braced a hand against his thigh, feeling the coarse hair beneath my palm as I bent down to lick him with the flat of my tongue. My brain tried to catalog every sensation, salt and skin and something uniquely him, as my body overrode thought with pure want.
“You feel like velvet,” I licked my lips. His eyes were fixed on me, and when I caught his gaze, he hardened even more. Seeing him watch my reactions to his was more intoxicating than any physical sensation.
“You like that don’t you,” I purred, collecting his precum with my fingers and spreading it down his shaft. “You like watching me between your legs, like when I tell you how handsome and perfect you are.” I swirled my tongue over his tip, using my hands to pump him as I took his head into my mouth. I knew I couldn’t take all of him, my own sensitivities not allowing it, but I didn’t think it mattered, because he was coming unglued bit by bit right in front of me, and it was glorious. His chest rose and fell harder, faster, his increasingly unfocused gaze fixed on me any time I looked up at him.
It didn’t take long at all before he was fully hard from the combination of my praise, hands, and tongue. I gripped him harder this time, applying more pressure and friction.
“Are you going to come for me?” I licked him base to tip again. He was pressed against the headboard, hips bucking toward me. He watched me, pupils completely blown and eyes wild. He had threaded the fingers of one hand into my hair, not forcing me down, but holding on, the change in his grip another indicator asto what he liked and how close he was. I cupped his balls in my hand, squeezing gently. “Show me what you’ve got, cowboy.”
That’s all it took for him to come, making the most exquisite sounds I’d ever heard. He covered himself with the tissues he’d pulled out of the box as soon as I’d put my tongue on him while I pumped him through his climax. I took the tissues from him and tossed them in the wastebasket before pulling more to clean him off. He’d melted against the bed.
“You have no idea how hot it is to watch you come undone like that,” I confessed, pulling his bottoms back up, allowing my fingers to trail briefly through the coarse hair at his navel, his stomach muscles contracting under my touch. I planted a light kiss over the trail, breathing in bergamot and cloves and sweat and sex, a scent I wanted to memorize, bottle, keep forever.
“Alex,” he panted, looking at me as I returned to him. “Darlin’ that was so good. Shit, you were so good. You were incredible.” My cheeks burned as I nestled up against his side and kissed him as he wrapped his arms around me.
“You may have a point about delayed gratification after all, Lieutenant Commander,” I curled against his chest. He laughed fully despite his exhaustion, and I decided I unquestionably wanted to hear that sound for the rest of my life if I had the chance.
Chapter 27
Mission Status: This could work
Finn
I felt euphoric.
Completely relaxed and drifting in and out of blissed-out consciousness. Alex’s absolute commitment and focus had been my undoing—the things she said, the way she made sure I could watch her watching me—fuck I was getting hard again already. This could work.
I was fairly certain Alex had fallen asleep next to me—her breathing slowed, punctuated by deep sighs, followed by a deeper settling against me. But now she was restless, as if her constantly spinning mind had shifted into overdrive and it was getting harder to stay still.
“I can hear you thinking,” I teased gently, kissing the top of her head.
“Imagine having a front row seat to it,” she huffed, slipping her arm around my middle and anchoring herself to me like she had the first morning we’d spent in her bed. “Finn?” she whispered at length. My heart quickened the tone of her voice.
“What is it, darlin’?” I did my best to keep my own voice casual, carding my fingers through her soft—now-brown and blonde—hair that was even more Alex than the pink.
“I need to tell you something about children…” I felt her tense against me even though she didn’t pull away. My fingers stilled against her locks.
