His hand curled around her jaw as he took the kiss deeper, chasing the taste of her.
His other hand slid up under the hem of her shirt, closing around her breast.
She gasped, and he used the moment to slip inside, tongue stroking over hers, coaxing another moan.
Against his palm, her nipple twisted tighter, inviting his fingers to circle, roll, and pinch.
Her hands slid down the bare skin of his back. Finding the towel, she pulled until the material slid down.
Her fingers were greedy then, palming his ass, digging in.
As her teeth nipped his lower lip, her hands slid to his hips. Then forward. Down.
Her palm curled around his hard length, dragging a groan out of him and a needy little whimper out of her.
His breath stuttered as she started to stroke him. It was slow at first. But when his head fell to her shoulder, she grew bolder, moving faster, hand twisting, driving him up, leaving him rocking into her hand as the need overtook him.
Her own need was growing, though, and her free hand moved out, grabbing his, and pressing it between her thighs.
He wasted no time, sliding under the material to touch her without any barriers, finding her hot and slick for him.
His thumb worked her clit as two of his fingers slipped inside her.
There was no stopping the groan that escaped him when her walls tightened around his fingers.
There was nothing tentative or gentle about him then. He thrust hard and fast, driving her up as she was doing to him.
“Finn, please,” Iris whimpered, her hips rocking restlessly against his palm. Needing more. Needinghim.
He reached past her toward the medicine cabinet, grabbing a foil out of the box, then brushing her hand away from his length.
When his fingers slid out of her, she let out a little whimper that nearly undid him.
He made short work of the protection.
Then his hands were at the hem of her shirt, dragging it up and off.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his fingers skimming up her ribs, then across her breasts.
Iris wasn’t in the mood for teasing, though.
Her hand went to her own pants, pushing them and her panties down.
She turned, her ass rubbing against his hardness, making him twitch and pulse with need.
His head turned in at her neck as they both watched their reflections, a pink flush creeping across her chest as his lips teased up toward her ear.
“Finn …”
His hand slid down her front, slipping between her thighs. He shifted his hips, letting his hardness rock against her slick need as his finger teased her clit.
It wasn’t until she was grinding against him—her breathing fast, shallow huffs, her little mewling sounds filling the bathroom—that he shifted back, then slid inside her in one slow, deep thrust.
They both gasped at the sensation, then decided in unison that there was no going slow, no drawing it out.
He started to move, fast and deep.
Iris rocked back against him, demanding more.
