She sets her hand on my chest, her palm flat against my hammering heart. There’s no doubt that she can feel that tremble that rocks through me.
“Can I undo your shirt, Finn? Not to… I just want to feel your heart beating. Skin to skin, soul to soul, with nothing between us.”
All of my snark deserts me along with the oxygen I’ve managed to get down into my lungs. I tilt my chin down in a nod before I can think of all the reasons why it’s a bad idea.
She starts with the first button near the collar. When she releases it, the thickness in my throat doesn’t go with it. She whispers her lips over the sides of my neck and then down to the hollow. Her hands steadily undo another button, her mouth tracing down the patch of skin it reveals. She undoes anotherand another, until she has enough room to push my shirt open and insert her hand. Her palm is scalding hot as it traces over my pec, tracing a path straight to my heart.
“That’s not where the soul actually exists. I think souls might be a bunch of nonsense, really.”
“Shh,” she whispers. “We can talk theology later. Just let me feel your heart beating.”
“Says the woman with the butt plug in.”
Her head snaps up and she grins at me. “Yes. Says the woman with the butt plug.”
Shit.
Fawnie isn’t justrightfor me. She’sperfectfor me in every way.
She keeps her hand planted over my heart, but reaches for me with the other. Her fingers curl around my neck and then bite into my hair. She tugs my face down to hers and crushes our lips together. She kisses me with a ferocity that I’ve never known from her. I haven’t been able to take a full breath ever since I got into this office and started my whole black hole brain sink, but suddenly, I’m panting. I kiss her back with just as much desperation. She tastes like berries and bubblegum with mint. It always was my favorite flavor. Is it hers too?
Jesus Christ, I need to get a grip.
It’s hard when she angles onto me, pressing me further onto the desk so that she can climb over me and straddle my hips. I grasp her waist to keep her from falling at first, but then I can’t stop myself from jerking her tight against me.
I drink her in, part my mouth for her tongue to find mine, let her writhe against me, devour her moans and gasps. She rocks against my hard cock, sending me into an orbit full of black spots and stars. She’s a dream. The best thing that ever happened to me. Except she’s real. She’s real and she’s here.
She said she’d choose me.Me. The me right now, not the future improved me that she might hope for. She’ll take me flawed and scarred, and still call me beautiful and mean it.
Mine.I want to tell her, but I shove the word back deep down inside.Yours.That one gets tucked even deeper.
Fawnie gathers up my hands and lifts them up above my head. She threads our fingers together, holding them up while she kisses me. She sucks on my bottom lip, nipping it between her teeth and dragging it into her mouth before she releases it.
She only lets go of my hands to unbutton my shirt the rest of the way and then she peels it off my shoulders. Just like that.
I let her. Like I’m any other man.
She doesn’t immediately scooch forward to try and get a good look at my back. There are plenty of scars on my sides, and a few of them wrap around to my chest and abs, but she’s not looking there either. She never takes her eyes off my face. Hers are dark with desire, but they’re also sparkling with something that looks an awful lot like happiness.
She arches back and gives me a long slide of her hips right over the bulge in my jeans.
“Fawnie,” I hiss, grabbing her hips and ass so hard that my fingers probably bruise through her leggings. I loosen them immediately, but she throws back her head and sighs like she enjoys being touched that way.
Anyway I choose, simply because it’s me.
“Yes?” Her eyes snap open and she grins at me playfully. “What can I do for you?”
Fuck. Me.
Literally.
But also? She’s going to kill me.
I whip her off my lap, setting her down on the floor, but only so I can spin her around, manhandling her while trying to also be careful, as I bend her over the desk. I don’t want to think about anything other than her. I want to be consumed by this woman. Taken apart. Broken down. Put back together. I want each and every one of my senses to be filled with her.
“Take these pants off,” I command, setting a hand between Fawnie’s shoulder blades and bending her forward so that her hips and ass are hiked up into the air. I step between her feet and knock her thighs apart with my other hand.
She studies me over her shoulder, eyes blazing. “Rude,” she snarks. “You could at least say please.”
