She gasps out a bitten-off curse, and it shoots through my bones like lightning.
‘Theo, baby… You’re making noises I’ll be replaying in my head till I’m ninety.’
‘I think?—’
‘Don’t think. Just feel me.’
She bites her lip and moves. Slow, slow, slow. Up and down now.
‘There. That. Do that again.’
She rocks her hips in a tighter circle. I drop my hands to her arse and I yank her down, hooking my thumbs under the lace. ‘You want to take these off?’
She nods again, pupils blown. ‘I need you. You,’ she breathes. ‘Finn. Please. Now. I need?—’
‘Let’s see.’
Her hips buck when I work my hand between us. I trawl two fingers through her hot, swollen flesh, just enough pressure to part her. She’s…so soft. Smooth, and so fucking wet that the seam of her clings like a kiss. Not just slick, thick with it. My middle finger catches on her entrance, and that first scant millimetre? A molten, fluttering grip. She’s alive under my hand.
I curl, find the spot, and her entire body quivers. ‘Mhm…There, baby?’
A rasp breaks out of her, halfway between surrender and disbelief. I suck one nipple into my mouth. She hisses through her teeth as I strip my fingers from her and paint her lips with them.
‘Open.’
Her tongue darts out, and she tastes herself, eyes blazing into mine.
‘Tell me, baby – you need more of my fingers,’ I cup her jaw with one hand, ‘or are you ready to be fucked? Your choice.’
‘I-I want…’ She’s hiccupping. ‘God, I want everything. But I don’t know how to?—’
‘Stand up, my darlin’.’
Eyes glaze-fix on mine. Slowly, she rises from my lap.
‘Now take them off for me, nice and slow.’
She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and peels them down. They catch slightly on one thigh, then fall at her feet. She steps out of them. Soft curls, dark and natural, glossy where she’s wet for me. Fucking glorious. My cock kicks at the sight.
I reach down, snatch my wallet from the trousers on the floor, and fish out a condom. I tear the foil and roll it on with shaky hands. Her eyes track my fingers like she’s memorising how wrecked she’s got me.
Yeah, look close, baby. That’s how fucked up I am for you.
Because this thing between us? It’s not heat. It’s white phosphorus behind my sternum. The high of realising she’s letting me in. She’s giving me the parts that never make it out of the armour. That’s the real addiction – trusting me. And she’s doing it with her eyes wide open. As though I’m not a problem, but the thing she wants.
Not tolerated or endured. Wanted.
And when I sit back, it’s with wonder and gratitude and greed for more.
‘You don’t have to say anything right now.’ Her voice goes threadbare. ‘Just…please don’t stop looking at me like that.’
‘Not as long as I have eyes.’
‘I don’t know how to do this without pretending I’m not scared. But I don’t want to stop.’
‘Come here.’
She climbs onto the sofa, knees on either side of my thighs again.
