Page 48 of Camera Shy

“Why?”

“Because Mason hated it. Every time I asked, he came up with an excuse. The rejection hurt. It made me feel gross and humiliated, and now I just can’t stand the idea of bringing it up.”

Finn stops rubbing me, and his smile flattens. “Did you blow him?”

“What?”

“Would you give Mason head when you guys had sex?”

I mean, we rarely had sex, but when we did… I nod.

“Lesson number two, Avery—and this is a very important one. Are you listening?”

I nod again as I try to swallow down the lump in my throat.

Finn looks right into my eyes and says, “If a man doesn’t give, he doesn’t get. End of story. Don’t waste your time on selfish assholes.”

He kisses all the way up my thigh this time. When he reaches the fabric covering my sex, he yanks it aside and blows across my crease and over my clit. It’s a seductive, yet blissful stimulation. Like a sweet cool breeze on the hottest day. It feels so good I lose my head. I let myself get drunk off this man’s potent sexuality, and the words just spill out of my mouth…

“I really like that,” I moan.

“You look so good, baby. You’re so hot and pink and swollen.” He chuckles. “I haven’t been this excited about pussy in a long time.”

It’s the first moment I notice how into this Finn is. Like sex with me is more than a friendly favor to white knuckle through. Am I desirable? Am I appealing? Does he actually want me? My confidence soaks through my body like liquor in my bloodstream. I let the hazy feeling flow through me, intoxicating me until it reaches my lips and my mouth falls open…

The first words I can think of just come rolling out.

“I want to come on your tongue, Finn. Please. Kiss me hard, right on my clit.”

He stops blowing against my sensitive skin and smiles at me wider than I’ve ever seen before. “There you go, Avery, there’s the dirty talk. Good girl. You’re such a quick learner. That was very sexy.”

I soak up his praise as he unties the bows of my bikini bottoms. I bridge my hips so he can pull the swimsuit from underneath me and then toss it aside. Tenderly, he scoots me to the edge of the counter, then secures my heels against his shoulders. I’m spread, on display, and my most intimate area is an inch away from Finn’s face. I should be writhing with humiliation, but I just don’t care right now. I’m so turned on. All I care about, all I can think about, is finding my release. I’m so needy, the pressure is too much.

“And just so you know,” he says before he licks my inner thigh half an inch away from my center. “This is my pleasure to do, Queen.” Oh dear God. He teases me with soft kisses, apparently to make me erupt from the anticipation alone. I try to lie backward, but Finn protests. “No, sit up. Eyes on the mirror. I want you to see how fucking beautiful you look when I make you come.”

He drags his tongue across my slit, up then down, starting on one side, then attending to the other. “Goddamn, I knew you’d taste sweet,” he moans.

There’s no way. I am a thirty-year-old grown adult. I thoroughly understand a woman’s anatomy. It is not cotton candy and bubblegum down there. But he’s certainly treating me like I’m dessert. The way he moves, moans, and tells me how soft and warm and delicious I am, I actually believe him.

I’m sweet.

I’m savory.

Following Finn’s command, I watch myself in the mirror. My crazy hair, loose strands falling out of my messy bun. My cheeks are so flushed they’re red and splotchy. My lips are permanently parted. I can’t get enough air through my nose, so I have to gulp and gasp to fill my lungs as Finn tries to suffocate me with pleasure. His broad, muscular back in the mirror is blocking the view of anything intimate. But I can clearly see the mermaids of his tattoo on the back of his arm. They are perfectly shaped, with hourglass figures, tiny waists, and voluptuous chests under their clamshell bras. They are beautiful. They are inviting me to be beautiful with them as they sit on their rock, smiling wickedly, egging me on.

You’re beautiful. You’re worthy. Go ahead, girl, get yours.

Feeling my orgasm building, I flex my hips and push harder against Finn’s tongue. As subtly as I can, I grind my hips and immediately feel him smile against my womanhood.

“Sorry,” I mumble, ashamed I’m being too greedy.

Finn reaches for my hips with both hands and grabs as much of my ass as he can in this position. He squeezes firmly before pulling me tighter against his face. “Don’t you dare be sorry. That’s so sexy. Enjoy yourself, Avery. Use me. Use my tongue.”

He guides my hips, encouraging my feral behavior. I push all reason away. Don’t think too hard, don’t worry so much…just feel. I weave my fingers into Finn’s dark, coarse hair. It’s trimmed on the sides, but the top is plentiful enough to grip. And when I’m almost on the brink of my orgasm, I make a fist.

“Oh, ho, ho,” he says between breathy chuckles. “Good girl. Pull my hair. Don’t you dare stop.”

He’s saying all the filthy things because he knows, believe it or not, I like it. The Rumble chat room was cringe-worthy, but not because of the words, because of who was saying it. All the things I used to find awkward…hm, maybe it was timing, maybe it was the company. Finn could ask anything of me right now, and I’d do it. Including…

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