Page 19 of Unintentionally Yours

Greedily, messily, he drank her in. Lost himself in the slick-soft glide of their fused mouths, the silken tangle of their tongues, his and hers, hers and his, and finally, no distinction between them.

When they finally broke apart, chests heaving, Finn found his hands had grown reckless. One twisted into the dark tresses at Layla’s nape, and the other sank into the softness of her waist. And she arched into him shamelessly, all liquid grace and burning invitation.

The ferocity of her response punched the breath from Finn in a gutted groan. She matched his hunger and desperation with a fever all her own. Her nails scored his straining shoulders, her curves seeking to press even closer to his hardness.

He was lost. Utterly, shamelessly lost in her touch, her taste, the searing trail of her mouth as it trailed down his chest. He tipped his head back in pleasure powerless to resist the exquisite torment.

“Layla,” he said her name on a jagged exhale. “I can’t...I need...” What? He wasn’t even sure anymore of what he was asking for.

He only knew he burned for her, inside and out.

But she seemed to understand without words. She shuddered against him, chest to chest, everywhere to everywhere. Then she was surging up, twisting with feline grace to straddle him. Finn groaned, hands spanning her hips convulsively as she settled over him. He was hard against her center, the thick ridge of his arousal pressing into her giving softness. Heat lashed through his gut as she rocked against the aching length of him.

Desperate for friction, Finn surged up to claim her mouth again. He swallowed her cry of surprise, devouring her mouth with teeth and tongue.

When he pulled away, they were both panting harshly. Layla’s lips were slick and obscenely swollen, her cheeks flushed with wanting.

“Fuck, Layla, you’re killing me.” His lips trailed down the column of her throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin. She shuddered, head falling back to give him better access.

He took ruthless advantage, nipping and sucking, leaving his brand across her skin. She rolled her hips harder against the iron length of him.

“Tell me to stop,” he grunted while his control was still his own.

Layla licked her lips, and his eyes tracked the movement. “No, she whispered. “This is what I want. You are what I want.”

Those words broke his control. Shattered it into a million pieces.

With a wrecked sound, he twisted their bodies, coming over top of her. He crushed their mouths together. She moaned into the ferocious kiss, nails scoring deliciously over his scalp.

Finn shuddered, body arching instinctively into the prickle of pleasure-pain. The fever between them blazed ever higher, scorching away the last of his rationale, his restraint. He needed her, now, with a gnawing desperation. His hands slid up her sides to palm her breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt. His shirt. Layla arched into his touch. He plumped the generous swells, thumbs finding her nipples and circling them. She bit down on his lower lip. “More,” she whispered. “More.”

They made short work of the scant barriers between them. Each newly uncovered swath of satin skin was worshipped with greedy lips and rasping palms until they were bared to each other completely.

Finn drank his fill, gorging himself on the exquisite bounty of Layla’s body until his lips, his fingertips, were drunk on her. The lush curves molded so perfectly to his calloused palms, the hourglass flare of her hips bracketing the roughened vee of his thighs.

It was bliss and torment in equal measure, being finally allowed to touch, to taste. Finn nuzzled the velvet hollow of her throat and traced the delicate arches of her ribcage with a questing tongue. Paid fervent homage to the high, soft swells of her breasts, the peaked roses of her nipples. Then he moved lower, mouth blazing a trail to where she burned the hottest.

He parted her thighs, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder. “Gorgeous,” he growled, fingers delving into her slick heat. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Layla shuddered as he tested her readiness, thumb skating around the swollen nub of her clit. She clamped down around him, inner muscles fluttering, and Finn growled against her center. He licked her like a starving man, tongue delving deep before moving up and flicking over her clit in maddeningly light strokes. Layla arched, her body a taut bow offering itself to his questing mouth, his rough touch. Finn’s grip tightened on her thigh, holding her in place as he worked her mercilessly, fingers curling inside her as his tongue lashed and swirled. Pleasure built in her core, tighter and tighter, until she was quivering on the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” Finn murmured against her slick flesh. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

He sealed his lips around her nub and sucked hard, and the world went white around the edges. Layla jackknifed off the bed, keening as ecstasy ripped through her in great, wracking shudders. Distantly, she heard Finn groaning and felt him working her through it with fingers and tongue, wringing out every last spark until she collapsed back against the sheets, boneless.

Finn kissed his way back up her body. The scrape of his stubble was an erotic counterpoint to the softness of his lips. When he finally settled into the cradle of her thighs, they both moaned at the feel of him notching up against her drenched opening.

“Condom,” Layla panted, hands smoothing restlessly over the broad expanse of his back. “Do you have—”

“Shit. Yeah, just let me—” He stretched out an arm, fumbling in the nightstand drawer. A moment later, he was rolling on the latex and positioning himself back at her entrance.

“Ready?” His eyes locked on hers, giving her one last chance to change her mind. Heaven help him if she did. His hands were trembling, his body hungry. But he would back away. Give Layla whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed. Always.

“So ready,” she breathed. Her thighs fell wantonly open in blatant entreaty, a siren’s summons he had neither the will nor the want to resist. “Finn, please.”

He surged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust. They both cried out at the sensation, Layla’s fingers digging into his biceps as she adjusted to the thick length of him stretching her impossibly full.

“Fuck.” Finn’s head dropped to her shoulder, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding still. “You feel incredible. So fucking tight. I knew you would, knew you would be like this.”

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