“Anything…” she panted. “Anything.”
Finn scraped his teeth down the column of her neck, eliciting a shudder from her. “Careful, I might just take you up on that.”
Heaven help her, she hoped so.
She gripped his shirt with one hand, the back of his head with the other as he finally,finallypushed her panties to the side and allowed them to touch skin-to-skin for the first time in ten years.
“Christ,” he groaned, his forehead pressed into her neck. “I thought I remembered what you felt like, but my memories have nothing on the real thing, do they? You’re soft as a rose petal. Soft and wet and warm and just aching for my fingers, isn’t that right?”
Before she could answer him, tell him, yes, oh Lord,yes, he swiped a finger through her slit and used her wetness to trace slow circles around her clit. All the while he watched her with an intensity she didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to question.
It didn’t matter, though. As soon as he slipped a finger inside her, both of them groaning at the contact, all thought promptly left her. Unable to stop herself, she guided his mouth to hers and slid her tongue against his as he pumped his hand beneath her skirt, working her slowly toward a climax.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten off by someone else’s efforts. Months…more than a year, maybe. But even when it’d happened, one thing was certain: she’d never rocked herself so unabashedly against their hand. Had never ground down on them with a single-minded desperation to get herself off, unconcerned with what they’d think or how they’d respond to her wanton portrayal.
Of course, with Finn she didn’t have to worry at all about what he might think. His body language said it all. The way he kneaded her ass, guiding her movements as she took his fingers deep inside over and over again. The way he whispered the filthiest things in her ear, how his cock seemed to grow harder with each passing second, with each stroke of his fingers between her legs.
“Come on now, Willowtree. Let me feel you come on my fingers. Let’s get this first one out of the way so I can take my time with the rest of you.” He sped up his hand as he spoke, his thumb flicking back and forth over her clit even as he pumped his fingers deep inside her. “I wanna spend an hour just kissing your breasts. Get you nice and worked up, then I’ll spread those gorgeous thighs with my shoulders and make myself at home between your legs. Better get you fed first, though, because once I get my mouth on your pussy, there’s no tellin’ when I’ll stop. Hours.Days.”
The desperation in his voice was what pushed her over the edge. Desperation forher. The thought of reducing this hulking man to his knees in front of her, his sole mission simply to please her with his tongue had her clenching around his fingers, his name a constant chant from her lips.
“That’s it, sweetness. Give it to me.” He groaned, brushing his lips against her collarbone as she did nothing but grip his shirt and hold on for dear life while the longest orgasm known to man or woman ravaged her body.
Finn slowed his hand, though he still pumped his fingers into her, still brushed featherlight circles around her clit as she shuddered and shook in his lap. Good Lord, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an orgasm that powerful. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d come that hard and yet still ached for something more. Still ached to be filled.
But she did. She couldn’t deny that any more than she could deny her own name.
Willow knew exactly what kind of trouble she and Finn were stepping into here. There were so many unanswered questions—why did he leave? Why did he stay away? And, number one on the list, what the hell was she doing? But right then, she didn’t care. It’d been too long since she’d allowed herself the freedom of doing exactly what she wanted.
In that moment? She wanted Finn. Wanted him with every ounce of her being. Wanted everything he’d promised her while he’d had his fingers inside her. Wanted his mouth between her legs, his cock filling her until she came from that alone.
And for once, she wasn’t going to tell herself no.
Ten minutes and the separation of their bodies had done exactly fuck-all to settle Finn’s raging erection. He was still hard as fucking stone, his cock throbbing behind the fly of his jeans at the mere memory of what Willow’s body had felt like clenching around his fingers. His balls hadn’t ached this much since he’d last been with her as a teenager. Those months before they’d finally slept together had been filled with fumbling exploration and more blue balls than he could count.
But Christ, it’d been worth it. Every single experience they’d had together had been, if only to see that look on her face as she came from his efforts. And she’d come. Every damn time, he’d made sure of that. If he had his way, she’d come half a dozen more times before the night was through.
Just as soon as he got her fed.
She sat on his counter, hands folded in her lap and legs crossed at the ankles—so prim and proper as if he hadn’t just had his fingers inside her. As if she hadn’t ridden his hand like it was the world’s best toy. Her posture was the only thing prim about her, though. Her cheeks were flushed, their pinkness trailing down her neck to her chest. Her nipples were still hard beneath her silky top, and he wanted them in his mouth with a desperation he hadn’t felt in a long damn time. Hadn’t felt since he was last with her, actually.
After making her two sandwiches exactly how he remembered she loved, he handed her a plate. “Eat up, Willowtree. Gonna need your strength.”
“Thank you. Let’s see if your claim to remember how I like them is correct…”
“I think I already proved I remember exactly how you like it.” With a wink, he turned away from her flushed face to slap together a sandwich for himself. This combination had never been a favorite of his, but in that moment, he didn’t much care. He was going to need the fuel for what he had planned for the rest of the night. Now that he’d gotten a small taste of her, he didn’t see himself stopping before dawn. He wanted to strip her down, lay her out on his sheets, and spend hours rememorizing every square inch of her body. Wanted to make her come enough times her moans became the constant soundtrack in his mind.
Willow bit into her sandwich, letting out a little hum of contentment as her eyes fluttered closed. She’d made a similar sound on his couch right before she’d come. Which was to say, the problem in his pants wasn’t getting any relief.
“How’d I do?” he asked, his eyes locked on her lips as she slipped her tongue out to catch a bit of honey.
“Exactly how I love them.” She took another bite as she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. “How’d you remember all of it?”
“Just because I wasn’t here doesn’t mean I forgot.” He started on his sandwich, demolishing a quarter of it in one bite. “There’s not a thing between us I don’t remember.”
Too much? Probably, if the look she gave him was any indication. But, hell, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about something like that. He wanted to tell her everything that’d happened, all the reasons he’d left and stayed away, but he couldn’t do that. Not when she and her daddy were already at odds—and they were. Like nothing he’d witnessed before.
The reason he’d stayed away sat squarely on his shoulders, and he’d have to own up to that in time. But the circumstances surrounding his forced departure lay directly at her father’s feet. Her knowing those circumstances would only serve to push her and Richard Haven further apart—possibly even cause irreparable damage. There were few things Willow loved more than her family. He wouldn’t come between that, despite the disdain he held for her daddy.
