“Ohhhh,” I moan, my movements matching his as we both seek our release. “Oh, yes.”
I come for the third time, and Beckett follows, his body collapsing on top of mine as he whispers his praise in my ear.
His cock is still buried in me as I all but fall into a coma.
After a moment, Beckett climbs off the bed and pads from the room. He returns moments later with a warm washcloth and, despite my protests that I can do it myself, proceeds to clean our combined releases from me.
“Thank you,” I say when Beckett returns to bed and lies down next to me, pulling the comforter over us both.
His dark eyes find mine. “For what?”
I press my lips together. Part of me wants to joke and say for making me come three times, but I know it’s so much more than that. It’s for being my friend. For showing me that there are things other than hockey to look forward to. For keeping me from becoming a snowman when I decided to walk out into a blizzard.
But I’m not quite sure if I’m ready to tell him all of that yet.
Instead, I snuggle next to him and lay my head where his shoulder meets his chest. “For making sure I didn’t die in the snow. And… for tonight.”
“I’d do anything for you, Finley,” he declares, tilting his face to place a kiss on my forehead.
A kiss that makes me want to grab on to Beckett and never let him go.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him about it. Aboutus. But what good would it do? The only possible outcome is that it would ruin our snow day, and that’s the last thing I want right now.
I just want to stay in this cocoon of happiness and warmth for as long as possible.
So, I snuggle into his chest and drift into a post-orgasmic sleep. Moments later, maybe minutes, maybe hours, when Beckett whispers, “Goodnight, Queenie,” and kisses me gently, I let myself dream of a universe where this wasn’t just a one-night thing but my life.
***
The next morning, I wake up early, jerking when I realize the warmth at my back is Beckett spooning me. It’s been so long since I allowed myself to sleep with someone that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be held by a man.
And Beckett Kane is not just any man, I realize as I slowly move my ass against his very noticeable morning wood.
Not wanting to wake him, I slip my hand out of the covers to check my phone. The snow is still falling heavily, according to the weather app. The only new email I have is one from Sabrina, saying the final event of The Great Yeti Challenge has been postponed until next week.
There’s a thought trying to disrupt my peaceful morning about what it means that I crossed this line, but I forcibly shove it from my consciousness.
That’s a problem for tomorrow’s Finley. Or at least Finley who isn’t actively being cuddled.
Beckett groans behind me, lightly thrusting his hips as he awakens.
I roll in his arms, bringing my face near his. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this,” I admit, sliding beneath the blankets until I’m eye level with his dick.
“Fin,” Beckett groans, running his hands through my hair. “Come back up here. I’ll make you breakfast.”
“Can’t. My mouth is going to be very full soon.”
I peek out of the blankets as he drops his head onto his pillow, his deep voice still raspy with sleep as he murmurs, “Fuck, Queenie, you’re killing me, but if you want my cock for breakfast, I won’t argue.”
“Good boy,” I say, hoping he likes praise as much as he seems to enjoy giving it.
Because, as it turns out, I really fucking like being told how amazing I am while someone brings me to completion.
Chapter 32
Beckett
AsFinleylightlygripsmy cock, I know one thing for certain: this blowjob is going to be life-changing.
