He smiled around her, certain that wasn’t what she’d been planning to say, but he couldn’t say he minded. Having her so lost to her pleasure she couldn’t throw up future roadblocks was just fine with him. Once again, she engulfed his cock in her mouth, deep suction interspersed with throaty moans.
From somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard his phone going off with an incoming call, but it was hard to tell with Willow’s hips rocking over his face and her thighs pressed so tightly to his ears.
Even if it was, he sure as hell wasn’t going to answer.
He doubled down on his efforts, sucking her harder, faster, pumping his fingers into her deeper. Driving her further and further toward the edge he knew she was close to falling over.
On a strong pull of her clit between his lips, she gasped, tossing her head back and pumping his cock with her hand instead of her mouth. “Finn…Finn.”
What he wouldn’t give to hear that every night for the rest of his life. She sucked him deep again, moaning around his length…and this time, he was certain it’d been his phone before, as a couple beeps sounded, indicating a missed message.
Attempting to ignore it, he focused all his efforts on her, but it wasn’t two minutes before his fucking phone went off again with another text. He wouldn’t have cared, but every time that damn sound rang through the room, Willow’s once strung-tight body relaxed, like she’d been nearly to the top of that mountain and had slid back down halfway, only to have to climb again. On the fourth trill—and subsequently, the fourth time Willow’s body lost the tension of her near-release—he growled and rolled her off him before flipping around and planting himself between her thighs.
“Finn, what— Oh Lord, keep doing that.Yes…” She spread her legs wide and reached down, sliding her fingers into his hair and holding on for dear life.
Slipping his fingers inside her, he pumped and curled them, searching for the spot he knew would make her scream. On a soft stroke, she gasped, her hips arching off the bed, and he knew he had it. So he exploited the hell out of it as he flicked his tongue against her clit. None of this slow buildup anymore. His goal was to get her to come before his damn phone went off again.
And she did.
When he sucked her clit between his lips and stroked that spot inside her, she held him close, her moans a high crescendo as she nearly pulled out his hair and pulsed against his tongue. Jesus, was there anything better than making his girl come?
Well, possibly having said girl acknowledge that she was, in fact, his. But other than that, he wasn’t so sure anything could beat it.
With a final brush of his lips against her pussy, he climbed up the length of her body, leaving kisses everywhere he could reach, stopping to spend a few solid minutes with her breasts because it’d been at least a day since he’d seen them and that was entirely too long in his book.
“How do you always do that?” she asked, still breathless from her release.
“Do what?” He brushed his lips against one of her hardened nipples while she squirmed.
“Turn things around. I wanted to driveyoucrazy for once, and yet I’m still the one who ended up on her back, blissed out of my mind.”
Finn could only stare at her for a moment, shocked into silence. Didn’t she realize? She drove him crazy every minute—everysecond—of the day, and she was worried he never was?
“Don’t you know by now you—” His phone trilled again, three beeps, one right after another. He growled, irritation getting the best of him as he snatched his phone from the makeshift nightstand—okay, TV tray. “Should’ve turned this goddamn thing off.”
“Must be somethin’ important. Missing out on a hot date?”
He raised an eyebrow as he slid his hand up her leg, tickling his fingers on the underside of her knee. “Not unless we were supposed to be on one and you didn’t tell me.”
She smiled then, a soft one meant just for him, and relaxed back against the bed. The sooner he dealt with whatever issue this was, the sooner he could be inside her.
He checked his notifications, finding a missed call and voice mail from Rory, followed by five texts. Swearing under his breath, he unlocked his screen and pulled up the messages.
Hey, I left you a voice mail as well, but I need to move up the meet time because the school’s putting together a last-minute bake sale fundraiser to help cover the Crawleys’ medical expenses from that horrible car accident. Poor family just can’t catch a break. I’d like to whip up as many things as I can to help. Can y’all do 6:30 instead?
Finn glanced at the clock. Shit, that was in fifteen minutes. He quickly scrolled through the other messages.
Can you confirm, please?
Hello?
Honestly, I hope your building isn't on fire or anything. I don’t want to leave y’all in a lurch, but this fundraiser’s important. I need to know if 6:30 works, or I have to cancel completely.
That’ll throw off your construction timeline completely, btw, but it’s up to y’all.
“Shit.” Finn ran his hands through his hair then grabbed his discarded clothes from the varying corners of his room.
“You’re leaving?” Willow propped herself up on her elbows, her face a mask of disbelief. And, sweet Jesus in heaven, the sight of her spread out like that, her breasts bouncing with every subtle movement, nearly did him in. He had half a mind to text Rory and tell her to fuck off—nicely, of course—and spend the rest of the evening with his cock buried inside Willow.
