Page 7 of Late Night Talking
I’m canting my hips, trying to get friction exactly where I need it. Finn slips his tie off and presses his hips down into mine. “Be a good girl and stay still, pet,” he says, but I’m barely listening because he’s completely covering me, and he smells incredible, and I’ve never wanted anyone in my life the way I want Finn. I can’t believe I thought for even a second that I would be able to live without him, that I would be able to feel this for someone else. No one even comes close.
Finn grabs my wrists and pins them to the mattress. “I said,” he growls in my ear, “stay still.”
If he thinks using that voice on me is going to get me to stop squirming against the hard cock that’s pressed between my legs, he’s wrong. Now I want him so bad, I’m frantic. “Hurry up,” I growl back. It’s been eight months. Eight months since I’ve felt him inside me, since I’ve come around him, since I’ve watched him fall apart. I need him. And I need him now.
Finn’s jaw tightens, his eyes going dark, giving me that look that he gives men when he walks into a room, like he’ll kill them with his bare hands at the slightest provocation. But I’m not afraid of him. I love it when he’s like this. I love it when his patience is right at the end of its rope. He takes the tie that’s still dangling from his fingertips and loops it once around my wrists.
I gasp and bite back a moan. I want to beg him, but not for mercy. I want to beg him to have me, to use me, to do what he wants with me. I sit still, focused on the sharp cut of his jaw as he knots the tie around a rung in my bed frame. He pulls it tight, and it hurts, but there’s no way I’m going to tell him to loosen it.
When Finn runs his hands down my body, away from the tie, his touch is reverent, like he’s worshiping my skin, and his eyes meet mine seconds before he leans down and bites into the skin of my chest, right below my collarbone. I huff out a breath at the pain and pleasure of it, but he doesn’t give me a second of rest before he does it again, biting right next to the curve of my breast.
“What are you doing?” I breathe. I don’t want him to stop, but Finn has never been much of a biter before. His eyes meet mine, and that same fury from before is still there, but it’s shifted into something more: real anger. He lowers his mouth to my rib and bites. I squeal and, on instinct, pull at where I’m bound to the bed frame.
“I want to make sure you’re not going to take your clothes off for that fucker. If you do, he’s going to see the evidence that you belong to someone else.”
My emotions war inside me. Part of me is angry that he thinks I would sleep with Ethan after this, but another part of me wants to run a hand down his face and console him. I remember being on the other side of this, being the one who had to give him up at the end of the night and watch him be with someone else. It killed me. I can’t imagine how it’s killing him now.
I shake my head as his mouth finds the curve of my hip and bites. He never breaks the skin, but he’s going deep enough to leave bruises. “I won’t let him touch me, Finn. I won’t.”
Like I’ve said some kind of magic word, he surges up onto his knees and leans down to bury his hands in my hair, holding my head still so I can’t look away from him. His eyes blaze as he says, “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I choke out. I shouldn’t be feeling like I’m going to cry, but the tears feel inevitable at this point. They pool up at the bottoms of my eyes, and despite his angry hold on me, Finn still shifts to brush them away with his thumbs.
“Tell me you don’t love him.”
At this, I start to cry in earnest. My heart feels beat up and bruised. It feels like Finn is slowly but surely digging it out of my chest. Around the tears, I look him in the eye. “I don’t love him, Finn. I’ve never loved anyone but you.”
He devours my mouth, and I try to devour him back, but he’s taken control again, dominating me to the point that I feel like he’s taking and taking and taking, and I try to give and give and give. One of his hands reaches down between us and finds the wetness between my legs.
I whine, tugging at my bonds. “Take your clothes off,” I say through gritted teeth as he pets me.
His brow furrows and then his hand leaves me and comes back against my pussy with a sharp smack. A full-body shudder moves through me, and my eyes roll closed. “Say please,” Finn whispers against my mouth, and I feel lost, like I’ve drifted off into the atmosphere. It’s already almost too much, the feel of his teeth still covering me, and now the throbbing between my legs that’s reached an almost unbearable level.
He spanks me again, twice in quick succession, and my mouth opens on a silent scream. I can’t breathe. Tears are running down the sides of my face. And it all feels better than anything has ever felt. Because it’s Finn. Because he’s here. Because there isn’t anything I wouldn’t let him do to me if it meant he was touching me and feeling me and bringing me pleasure. “I said, sayplease.”
It comes out in a chant, the words all running together over and over. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease. God, Finn. Please. Please!”
He rears back between my spread legs and hooks his hands under my knees. He holds my legs wide and looks down at me. I can only imagine what I look like down there, red and swollen and weeping. “Hold them there,” he commands me, and I do, holding my legs open, even as they tremble from the exertion, as he removes his clothes, one bit at a time, until he’s completely naked. All that gorgeous skin. There’s the sun on one side of his chest, the rays of it spreading out over most of him, and the flock of birds across his ribcage. The Irish knot on his shoulder that he got for his mother after she died.
Finn is kneeling between my legs now, his hands on my open knees. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I can imagine how I look from his perspective, worn out and used, his bite marks on my body and my hands painfully tied.
I feel incredible.
“Yes,” I tell him, and his cheek twitches, the closest he ever really gets to a smile. He looks down at the spot between my legs again, taking his hard length in his hand.
“Your pussy looks hungry.”
“Starving,” I whisper back, and he settles the head of his cock against my opening and shoves.
I scream, more out of relief than anything else. Maybe some people will try to make you believe that there’s no difference between one dick and the next, that everything different about them is in their size or their shape. But it’s just not true. It doesn’t matter that Ethan is a little bigger than Finn or that Finn’s cock is thicker. What matters is that it’s Finn’s dick. That it’shiminside me, spearing so deep and hard that I immediately forget how I’ve lived without him all this time. I don’t ever want to live without him again.
He wraps himself around me, and I hold him to me with my legs as he pushes deep, and for a moment, I’m not certain I’ll be able to come. My entire body is so electrified, my pussy raw and oversensitive. But I know Finn. He won’t stop until I’ve finished. After a few minutes of thrusting, he pushes up onto his hands and looks down at me.
“I need to feel it, Devin,” he says, like I’m withholding something from him. “I need to feel that pussy squeeze my cock. I’ve dreamed about it, about the way you sound when you come. It echoed in my brain when I was in London. Give it to me. Give me your fucking screams and your moans and your begging.”
But I can’t. All of me is clenched so hard and tight that I feel like I’ll suffocate. And I don’t realize I’ve shut my eyes until Finn says, “Goddammit, Devin, look at me.”
When I open my eyes, the world seems to shatter. He’s there so close, his mouth open against mine, breathing in the same air as me, holding my gaze with his, and his eyes are so full of fire that it breaks me. My orgasm isn’t an explosion, the way it usually is. It’s a crumbling. It’s Finn taking me apart piece by piece, until it feels like there’s nothing left but the sound of my screams, and he watches me. He watches me fall apart, and when I’ve come back together again, he’s sucking in air, staring at me like I’m made of stars.
