She finally whispers, “I haven’t done this in a long time.”
The vulnerability in her voice pinches my heart. It sounds like a warning, like she’s saying this to head off any concern I might have. For her to think she could disappoint me is laughable. I treasure every single moment with her.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No. Definitely not.” She lets out a self-conscious chuckle. “I just, um, thought you should know.”
“You’re in control here, Finley. I can promise you, I will like whatever you do. Don’t worry about it, all right?”
“How do you know?”
I push her golden hair behind her shoulders. “Because I’m in love with you.”
The words have been rattling around in my mind for weeks. The first time I thought them while watching her do a complicated flip off the balance beam, I tried to ignore them. It was too soon. Sharing every thought in my mind has been a recipe for disaster. I often spew words before I think through the consequences of what I’ve said. Like right now.
“Shit, I shouldn’t have—”
Her fingers press my mouth, stopping me from finishing the sentence. “I’m glad you said it.”
She’s not saying it back, but she’s not running away. I heave a sigh of relief that quickly turns into a hiss when Finley grips my cock and lowers herself onto me. We both gasp as she sinks, taking all of me. The slowness with which she moves has me hanging on by a thread, but I’d never rush her. I grit my teeth, working to keep myself together until I’m fully inside her.
“You feel fucking incredible,” I whisper.
She tilts her head. “I haven’t even moved.”
“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” I rasp through a chuckle. A bead of sweat forms on my brow from the effort of not moving her myself. But tonight is on her terms. “You move when you want, High-flyer.”
My mouth drops to her breast, sucking a nipple while Finley rocks, using my shoulders for leverage. I groan against her skin, utterly gone for this woman and how much I love her.
“I knew you’d feelthis good.” Her head falls back while she continues to ride me.
I kiss the long column of her neck, sucking lightly, even though somewhere in the far reaches of my mind, I know how dangerous it would be to mark her before anyone knows about us.
Finley does nothing to stop me, only picks up her pace. “You come whenever you want,” she murmurs in my ear. “Don’t hold back for me.”
I tip her chin so she meets my gaze. “I want you to feel good, High-flyer.”
“Did you not hear me before? Because in case you weren’t aware, the moaning sound means I enjoy—”
My lips silence her, and she sends our languid pace into a frenzy. Finley’s hips move quicker, matching the sloppy movements of her lips. It’s like the morning in her bedroom all over again, when she said she needed me to keep kissing her. I need it too, desperate to get as close to her as possible. We’re fused, her breasts to my chest, my tongue in her mouth, her pussy around my dick, and it’s not enough.
No amount of Finley Harris will ever be enough.
“Zach,” Finley gasps in surprise. “I might come again.”
My hands land on her lower back, pulling her toward me with each thrust of her hips, trying to get her there. Her body shakes in mine. She needs this desperately, and I want to give it to her. I fucking need her to fall apart on my cock.
“Right there,” she moans. “Don’t move.”
I stop, letting her use me the way she needs. She’s all choppy movements, grinding against me while I concentrate with a force I usually reserve only for hockey. Her mouth finds mine again, sucking my bottom lip before she rakes her teeth against it. I don’t know if I can hold on any longer…
“Oh God.” Finley’s orgasm slams into her, and she cries out, her moans crescendoing in a call of my name.
Finley keeps moving as she comes down from her high. My hands grip her hips harder, moving them faster, the tingle at the base of my spine building. Fuck, she’s so beautiful giving herself over to me like this. It doesn’t take long for my body to combust, my nerves catching fire, vision going black at the edges. I collapse backward on the couch, Finley falling with me. She rests her head on my chest, where my heart beats at a speed likely to concern a cardiologist.
“Are you okay?” Finley murmurs. “Your heart is pounding a million miles a minute.”
“Is it?” I quip. “Haven’t noticed.”
