She pulls the fabric over her head and sets it down on the counter. Her hair falls over her shoulders and drips down her arms and chest. The black tube top still wrapped tight around her breasts makes my fingers twitch with the urge to rip it off next. Her inhale stretches the tight material, and my eyes strain to see if her nipples are hard beneath it.
“You’re too far away,” I say, nearly whimpering.
Her lips quirk. With a confident lift of her chin, she runs her nails along the edge of the island and starts my way, hips swaying. I hold myself still, but my knuckles turn white as I grip the countertop so tight I fear the marble will crumble. There’s a burn in my lungs from how shallow I’m keeping my breaths, too terrified to spook her.
I feast on the sight of her so close to me. Her bare stomach fit with the tiny blue gem above her belly button that glitters in the low kitchen light, and the swells of her cleavage bursting above the black top. I’m dragging my gaze down past the belly piercing and to the waist of her pants, glaring at it. It’s a crime to have those curves hidden anywhere that isn’t beneath my hands.
“Is this better?” she asks, breathless, close enough that I can smell her perfume.
“No.”
I take one step forward and slide my arm behind her. With a tug, I have her stumbling into my chest and then into my arms. I set her on the island, grip her knees, and spread them wide. She sucks a sharp inhale in through her parted lips.
“That’s better,” I rasp before cupping her face and pulling her toward me.
She bends closer and grabs the side of my shirt in a tight fist. Her eyes are wide, pupils expanding when she says, “I want you. I want you to have me, Finn. All of me.”
“You’re already mine.”
I kiss her so hard my lips ache. She moans, and I swallow it, letting it rumble through me. Her touch is rough, desperate when she starts shoving my shirt up my chest and paws at the bare skin beneath it. I grip her hair and tug just enough to guide her backward, creating more space for her to work.
A hiss escapes me. The scratch of her nails between my abs shoots lightning to my cock, and I twirl her hair around my knuckles. “So violent, baby.”
She blows out a rough breath and takes my lip between her teeth before sucking it into her mouth. I run my knuckles down past her shoulders and to the swell of her tits, following the shape to the crack between them. Goosebumps awaken beneath my touch, and she sucks my lip harder, almost punishing.
It’s too easy to pinch the fabric of her top and pull it down. There’s nothing beneath it. Once it’s out of the way, her tits fall out, and I cup the left one, massaging it in my hand. The hard press of her nipple against my skin doesn’t escape me, but I ignore it for a bit longer. I pull my lip from her mouth and replace it with my tongue instead.
She arches into my touch, keening softly. “Finn.”
I squeeze my hand, fingers pressing deeper into her soft flesh before easing off and brushing my thumb across her nipple. She jerks in response, mouth breaking away. Dipping my gaze, I repeat the motion, and her nipple tightens, hardening further.
“Are they sensitive?” I murmur, tilting her head to the side. My forehead presses to her throat as I continue watching my touch.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Her head drops back on its own when I begin to pinch her nipple and slowly roll it between my fingers. Her breathing speeds up, growing frantic. My chest is as tight as my groin when I lower my head and run my tongue over the deep red peak. She holds me in place, as if I had plans of stopping.
“Oh, God,” she whispers, pressing herself into my mouth.
I pull her nipple between my lips and suck, letting my tongue flick it every few beats. Releasing her hair, I grip her other tit and alternate, bringing my mouth to the untouched skin. Her thighs spread wider before one knee hooks around my back and tries to pull me in.
“Tell me what you want. What you like,” I demand, sucking sharply.
She swallows, head hanging behind her shoulders as she steadies herself with a hand on the counter. “Take off your shirt.”
“You’re not even looking at me, sweetheart.”
“I don’t need to be to touch you,” she counters, running her eyes over my face.
Pulling back, I reach behind my head and tug my shirt off. It falls to the floor at the same time I sink my teeth into the top of her breast. It’s soft, teasing, but draws a low, needy whine up her throat.
Without releasing her, I pop open the button on her pants. Her stomach caves when she inhales and lifts her head, staring at where I’m working the zipper down. I flick my eyes up her body and search the deep blue of hers for any sign that she wants me to stop.
She realizes what I’m doing and nods, giving me what I need.
The moment I have her pants undone, she starts pushing them down her hips. I take her hands and bring them behind her back before resting a hand on her sternum and guiding her to lie back. She sucks on her cheek and follows the silent command, draping herself over the marble.
