Page 64 of Love Bound

Even if you ask.

I close my eyes.

Then his voice closes over me like a blanket and he talks to me calmly, though I can hear the control in his voice. "You are beautiful Claire. Your hair, your skin, your body. Every inch of you turns me on."

I clap a hand over my eyes. "Stop it! You're being—"

He takes my hand away from my face. "Honest. I'm being honest. Keep your eyes closed."

I can hear the sound of a bottle shaken, and then the smell of jasmine and, as he touches me, I realize it’s oil. His hands are on my stomach and I flinch at his touch and stiffen.

"Relax, Claire. Just enjoy this. Enjoy not knowing where I'm going to touch you next."

His hands, large and warm, begin moving over my rib cage, sliding without friction toward my chest, and up over my breasts to my collarbones. There they part and each moves down my shoulders.

I exhale, not realizing I've been holding my breath the entire time. And then he does it again, and again, and again, each time a little differently. Sometimes his hands move up my neck or all the way down to my fingertips. Each time, he starts at my abdomen. Each time, he describes what he sees—my skin in the light, my hair, my lips. Each time, he leaves me just a little more vulnerable.

After the tenth or twelfth pass, I feel like jelly and I open my eyes.

"There you are," he says. His nipples are pinched into rock hard nubs and he clearly has a massive hard-on. A light sheen of sweat coats his chest. Leaning forward, he whispers in my ear, "But you have to close your eyes."

I realize he doesn't want me to see him aroused, doesn't want me to feel responsible and to have to do something about it.

To fix the situation.

I don’t have to fix this.

I feel a sob come up from somewhere deep, deep in my stomach.

"Hey, hey, hey," he says and strokes me again, in one fluid movement— ribcage, chest, throat, shoulders, arms.

I'm limp. There's a pause, and then his hot hands are on my thighs and he begins to rub them with oil. He lifts them, kneading my buttocks, bending each leg and massaging my calves, all the way down to my toes.

Boneless, feeling sapped by his touch, all I have the strength to do is breathe. Finn lifts me a little higher on the pillows so he can tilt my hips forward and then he spreads my legs apart. Gently, he fingers my labia and rubs a thumb over my clit. But I am so spent, so in myself, all my body can do is shudder.

Then his hands are gone. A light sheet settles over me, the trapped air making me shiver a little before it drapes over me. I can feel him move next to me and I open my eyes to see the face of the most beautiful man ever, an arm tucked under his head.

"Thank you so much for letting me do that to you," he says, his face serious as he touches the tip of my nose.

I feel bad. I can smell him and what he wants. "Oh, Finn. Oh my God. I can’t move."

"Shh. I love seeing you," is all he says before my eyes close again and I slip into sleep.

The last thing I feel is a small kiss on my cheek.

***

The morning sunlight wakes me and as I roll over to avoid it, I am momentarily lost.

Where am I?

Finn's bed. I roll again, onto my stomach, and watch him sleep. He's healed enough to lie fully on his back now and one hand drags across his chest as he moves. I run a hand through that thick burl of dark wavy hair and his eyes open. The same color as the sea.

"Sleep well?" he asks and before I can answer, he's pulled me to him—hip to hip—and his penis swells swiftly between my legs.

Gently, throbbing against my hood, my sex is already slippery. I can feel heat oozing as he gently slides into me.

"I waited all night for this," he murmurs into my hair.