Page 44 of Business or Pleasure

“Maybe if you were dressed like Galadriel.” He glances around the room. “Should I turn the thermostat up? Or down?” he asks. “I don’t want you to be too hot, or too cold. Since, uh, that’s the function of a thermostat. To keep from getting too cold. Or too hot.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Am I being too awkward about this? Because I can guarantee you, I’m going to enjoy it.”

“Yes,” I say, laughing, even as heat rushes to my cheeks. “But it’s very cute.”

I sink back onto the bed, head pressed against the pillow. The temperature in the room jumps at least twenty degrees as electricity races through my veins. Maybe I should have asked him to turn down the thermostat after all. Yes, he’s seen me naked, but that was back when I thought he was one-night-only. He wasn’t taking in every detail of my body.

I let out a shaky breath and run a finger down my stomach. Past my navel. I start slowly, taking my time to find a rhythm, every ounce of awareness focused on the warmth beneath my hand. My body is tight, knees still nearly touching. With every rotation of my finger, I feel my legs loosen.

Finn’s reactions spur me on, banishing any lingering self-consciousness. A flutter of his eyes when I slide my free hand upward, clutching at my breasts. A fist gripping the sheets, knuckles taut, when I finally part my legs completely, dropping my knees to the side of the bed, my heart pounding. I didn’t think I’d be this turned on, simply having him next to me. Didn’t realize how intense his reactions would be.

I let myself relax, reaching to the side table for a bead of lube, which somehow feels even better than I thought it would, and when I let out a low moan, he does, too.

Ever since we started, I’ve been attuned to his slightest movements, his softest sounds. He could half inhale and every cell in my body would feel it. Even if I move my eyes from him, he’s so solidly there that I can’t forget I’m being watched. And not just watched—studied, and Finn is an overachiever. The sound of his breaths and the rise of his chest and somehow, even, the physical heat of him from a couple feet away.

I slip a finger inside, dragging that wetness up to my clit. He swallows hard, Adam’s apple trembling in his throat.

“You are really fucking sexy like this,” he says. “If it’s okay to say that.”

“Yes. God.” I watch the way his forearm muscles contract, the way he barely blinks. The thought of him about to lose it because he’s watching me about to lose it, forcing himself to hold back... it’s unspeakably hot. The words tumble out before I have a chance to second-guess them: “Touch yourself with me?”

His gaze grips mine. “Yeah?”

I’m dying for it, I don’t say. Instead, I just nod.

He shifts next to me. Swears under his breath. Then he drops one hand to the front of his boxers and rubs himself, letting out a low grumble as soon as he makes contact, shucking off his underwear as though he can’t wait any longer.

When he wraps a hand around his cock, he lets out this ragged exhale that sounds like relief. Some of the tension eases from his face, his body, like he’s been holding back ever since I knocked on his door. Beautiful. I let my gaze rove over him, the rhythmic pumps of his fist and the corded muscles in his neck and the triangle of sweat at the hollow of his throat. My fingers move faster, shoulder blades digging into the mattress.

A strangled sound slips from his mouth. “Fuck, I’m already so close.”

“You can—” I start, wanting to tell him that it’s okay, that he can let himself go.

“No. I want to wait for you.”

“I—I’m almost there.”

His movements turn sharper. A gnash of his teeth.

I throw my left arm over my face just as I feel my muscles contract. I need that release more than I need air. I’m only a few seconds away, everything in me tightly wound and ready to snap.

Then, all at once, both of us tip over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me, a brilliant neon tidal wave, and I cry out as a wild gasp tears from his throat. Everything else disappears. There is nothing but my body and this purest, desperate sensation, Finn falling apart right next to me, his free hand tightening on my thigh.

We breathe together, rough and recovering, for at least a whole minute. Faces flushed. Legs limp.

Then he turns to me, eyes heavy-lidded as he grazes my waist with a few fingertips.

“Holy shit,” he says, a sweet, disbelieving laugh in his voice. “I’ve been doing all of this so, so wrong.”

Twitter

@nocturnalsfanpage

It’s official: The Nocturnals is NOT getting renewed for a season five. Sound off below, and just know that we’re as heartbroken as you are.

@mexley5ever

is there a petition anywhere? we can’t let this happen! i’ve been watching since i was twelve, i literally grew up with hux and meg! #idratherbeunusual #savethenocturnals

@ultimate_caleb_rhodes_stan

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