They stayed there, foreheads brushing, breath mingling, long enough for him to know this wasn’t a mistake or a distraction.This was like a beginning.
And for once in his life, he wasn’t waiting for the fallout.
He was going to let himselffall.
Twenty-seven
His kiss had been filled with fire and patience that was as sexy a contradiction as the man himself.And now Finn looked at her like he didn’t want to stop.Like he was trying to find some internal brake pedal and couldn’t remember where it was.
The thing was, Taryn didn’t want him to stop.
She stepped back, barely, just enough to grab his shirt at the hem and tug on it.
That did it.
Finn didn’t lunge—heclaimedher.One hand at her jaw, the other gripping her hip, as his lips met hers and he was walking her backwards out of the spare room with a steady, determined pace.She’d assumed the bedroom, but he went the other way, where every step back down the corridor was accompanied by a look as if he was asking permission.
But when she gave it—he took it like a man starved.
Her back hit the edge of the kitchen counter with a gasp, the cool timber grounding her as his mouth traced a path down her throat, his rough stubble scraping against her skin.
‘Still with me?’he asked, his gravelly voice filled with want.
‘Barely.’
He grinned against her collarbone.Then kissed lower.
Buttons popped.Not with finesse, but withintent.Peeling her open like a secret he’d waited too long to read.
His hands were big and warm, trailing heat across her ribs, around her waist, and up under her bra until her breath stuttered.
Taryn yanked up his shirt, pausing until his arms lifted, then sent his black T-shirt to hit the floor.
He wasn’t just fit.He was sculpted.Like his body had been forged in hard days and harder nights, where the ink told the story of his survival scars.
She ran her hands over him slowly, reverently, watching his eyes go dark.
‘Taryn,’ he warned.
‘Hmm?’
‘You keep touching me like that, and I won’t stop.’
‘Good.’
The kiss that followed was messier.Needier.All tongue and teeth, between moans she didn’t recognise as her own.
Her jeans were gone before she noticed.One powerful arm lifted her, and slid her onto the bench, as fruit and vegetables were shoved aside with a grunt that rumbled through his chest and into hers.
‘Comfortable?’he asked with a rough voice as he dropped to his knees.
She blinked.‘What—’
‘Told you,’ he murmured, with hands sliding up her thighs, spreading her slowly.‘No shortcuts.I want you to remember this.Every damn second.’
And then he showed her what he meant.
His mouth was relentless.His hands unforgiving.Making her forget what time was, when it felt like seconds now played into long hours as she came undone on his tongue, with her breath catching on his name like it was a prayer she’d never dared say until now.
