Page 16 of Late Night Talking
I’ve got it halfway unbuttoned when he opens his mouth against mine. “What are you doing?” he whispers.
“Celebrating,” I whisper back.
He doesn’t say anything in response, but he stops my hands when I reach for the button on his pants. He laces our fingers together, and I shake his hands off before turning away from him, toward the bar cart that’s pressed against the wall between two lounge chairs.
“We’re getting married,” I say, hardly believing the words, even though I’ve had most of the day to let them sink in. “We’re supposed to be celebrating, and I’m not letting that asshole ruin this night for us.” I pour out two glasses of whiskey and walk back to him, handing him one.
He accepts it from me and holds my gaze over the rim of it as he takes a long drink, swallowing much more than I could in one swig like that.
I watch him, but I don’t take a drink from my own glass. “Please don’t tell me that you’re going to refuse to fuck me because my forehead looks like I got stomped on by a horse.”
His left cheek twitches. He bends and sets his whiskey glass on the coffee table by my leg and then starts to unbutton his cuffs. “No, I’m not. I’ll fuck you if that’s what you want.”
I grin, feeling it stretch the sore muscles of my face. I toss back as much of my whiskey as I can before setting it next to his on the coffee table and reaching down to take off my work jeans. “Then tell me how you want me.”
Finn’s eyes flare, and he lunges at me, slamming his mouth down on mine with so much force that it almost knocks me off balance before he wraps his arms around me and hauls me against him. He bites and licks at my mouth, walking us backward until my knees hit the edge of the couch, and he gives me a gentle shove. I fall onto the cushions, and he doesn’t waste a second before he drops to his knees in front of me.
“Spread your legs,” he growls, and I do, watching him yank his pants open and pull out his cock. He immediately wraps his hand around it and starts stroking before he bends and presses his open mouth to my pussy.
“Finn!” I shout, spearing my fingers into his hair and letting my hips buck against him.
“That’s it,” he says against my wet flesh. “Fuck yourself with my tongue.”
I whine, everything made more intense when I watch it all happening: Finn’s eyes on mine, his hand jerking up and down and his tongue out as I writhe around on it.
“This is how I want you, always,” he says, moving his mouth away, just far enough to speak, but still close enough to let me feel the vibrations of his deep voice against my core. It’s enough to make me grit my teeth against the pleasure. “I want to listen to those pretty noises you make when I’m sucking at you like this. They’re almost as good as the sounds you make when I’m so fucking deep in you that neither of us can breathe.”
My legs start to shake. It’s all too much. It feels like I’ll shake apart into a million pieces. He pulls back and settles two fingers against my entrance, holding my eyes as he pushes into me and curls up against my G-spot. All that comes out of me is a choking noise when I come, squeezing his fingers tight, the whole experience so intense that when I come back down, I realize I’ve been clawing at the couch, leaving nail tracks in the leather.
Finn doesn’t stop petting that spot inside me. He keeps going, watching me, until I’m too sensitive, until I’ve started to climb again and it’s something close to pain. “I want to fuck you, Devin. I want to fuck you so hard that you pass out, and I want to mark you so that no one else will come anywhere near you. I want to fucking own you from the inside out. Does that make me sick? Does that make me depraved?”
I’m shaking my head, my eyes closed now. My body is weak, pliant, wrung dry. “No,” I tell him, my head tipped back, my body trying to process the pleasure and the anguish. “If you’re depraved then so am I. Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
He makes a helpless little sound, something small and angry at the same time. He surges up off the floor, grabs me by the hips, and flips me over so that I have to hold onto the back of the couch to keep from slipping. He takes a handful of my hair, yanks my head back, and buries his dick in me so hard and fast that I swear I black out for a second.
He presses his front to my back and grinds into me, circling again and again as I let my head drop back onto his shoulder. “I’m the only one who gets to hurt you,” he says into my ear. “I know the kind of hurt you like.”
“Yes,” I moan. “Yes. Hurt me. Don’t you dare be fucking gentle with me.”
He pulls out and slams back in, and I try to grab handfuls of the back of the couch, try to hold on as he goes at me rough. He rears back and takes hold of my hips, fucking me in this wild, chaotic way, until I’m slipping down the side of the couch. He grabs hold of me, turns me and bends me over the armrest. I press my face into the leather, loving the way it smells like him, the way it all smells like him.
I don’t even realize I’m chantingI love you, I love you, I love youuntil my throat has gone raw.
“I need you to come again,” he says, slowing down enough to reach between my legs. His fingers land right over my clit, and I close my eyes, letting my body go limp as he moves my hips for me, fucking into me with such power that all I can do is let him and enjoy the ride. “No, you don’t,” Finn says, his voice gruff, and I look over my shoulder at him. His blue eyes blaze back at me.
I send him a confused look, everything in me going tighter as he pumps away at me. But Finn is shaking his head, and I don’t know why. “What?” I pant out.
“I don’t want a half-hearted orgasm,” he says. “I want you to get off hard. I want you to scream.” He sticks his thumb in his mouth, and I still feel a little lost, until he presses it to my asshole, entering me quick enough to make me gasp and push up onto my elbows. “Don’t tense up,” he tells me, pushing a little deeper. It hurts for a second, but then his other hand takes up stroking my clit again, and the combination of sensations feels so good, it makes my vision go cloudy. “That’s it,” Finn says, but I can barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. “That’s it, baby. Come on my cock.”
Everything from my waist down tightens to the point of pain, and then I explode, the world going dark as my orgasm rips through me. I scream into the armrest of the couch, and behind me, Finn slams into me again and again, until he finally shudders and goes still. He hisses through his teeth, and I smile, knowing he only does that when it’s really good.
He extracts himself from me, and we settle into the couch, him spooning me from behind. We won’t stay like this for long—sweat and fluids on leather isn’t the best—but Finn loves to hold me after. His fingers come up and trace the cut along my forehead.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I turn my head enough to meet his eyes. “I forgot it was even there.”
I can tell by the look in his eye that he doesn’t believe me. He leans forward and presses a kiss there, and then he kisses down my face and along my neck, where I know Ethan left bruises. When he lifts his head again, I roll over on the couch to face him and press a hand to his cheek.
