Page 22 of After Effect

~Don’t move

Til

We’re

Through~

I made it up to his neck. He was watching me intently, his eyes boring into mine. But he wasn’t pulling away. I inched my lips just a little closer. I just wanted to get close enough to feel his breath. That’s all. I wasn’t going to do anything.

~No one else can have you.

You know I don’t like to lose.

I’ll chain you to my headboard---~

Finch closed the gap in an instant and pressed his lips onto mine. Wet, hot, and eager. He smelled like sage, and he tasted like whiskey. He stole my words and he stole the last of my ability to resist him. He held me to him with desperation in his grip, as if he was terrified I might break this contact. There was no chance I was going to do that.

He initiated. This isn’t my fault.

Thank fucking god it wasn’t just me.

My hands were in his hair, pulling him in more, and I nibbled on his lip until he let me in his mouth. I moved my tongue in and out, sliding between his lips to simulate a seductive rhythm. I wanted him drunk on my flavor. I wanted him to remember how I felt and how I tasted, until he craved me in his sleep. Until he was imagining how else I might make him feel. I was going to leave an impression on him that would take his mind when he was alone in his bed at night and he needed some inspiration.

I pushed him back and pressed him into the bed with all of my weight. My pussy was already so wet. And he was already so hard. I was so intoxicated by the flavor of his saliva, I’d do just about anything to get to know the flavor of his cum.

He kept drinking in my kisses, while his hands gripped my waist to pull me down on him. Those naughty fingers inched down to my ass, but they stayed there, not venturing anywhere near where I wanted them. I needed him to feel more of me. I rubbed myself against his pelvis, in the hopes he might oblige me.

“You can touch me wherever you want.” I practically moaned into his mouth.This was becoming unbearable. We were moving too fast and not fast enough at the same time.

His hands slid back up, catching the cloth of my blouse and exposing one inch of flesh at a time in a controlled motion. His fingertips teased the skin of my back with pure sexual electricity. He kept going until I gave in and removed my shirt completely. While I hovered over him, supporting myself on a hand placed on either side of his head, he let his hands explore the length of my upper body, sliding down my chest, over my bra, then stopping short at the waist band of my jeans. I could feel his ragged breathing teasing my lips, while I know he could feel mine, too.

He kept our eyes locked as his knuckles brushed over the front of my pants. I was begging for more. He kept moving, finally sliding his fingers between my legs.

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He whispered before reconnecting our mouths.

AGH. That was everything I wanted to hear, and completely unfair at the same time. Is he actually talking to me? Is he just drunk and lost in the feeling? Right. What am I doing? I KNOW he’s drunk. I can’t sleep with him when he’s drunk. I can’t do any of the things I want to do to him while he’s drunk. I wouldn’t do this to a date. I sure as fuck can’t do this do a guy who’s practically my boss. Who might not even be into me.

He slipped his tongue under mine, and coaxed me into his mouth. Then he sucked on me in a way that sent waves straight to my clit. Oh, the waves he’d send through me if he did that TO my clit.

I had to grip the bed covers with every ounce of strength to get ahold of my mind again.

You’re being so fucking cruel, Finch Corbin.

My whole body gasped as he started to run his hand back up my pants with an irresistible pressure. I knew I shouldn’t, but… it wouldn’t really do any more harm if I kissed him just a little longer, right?

No, I’m the sober one here. I’m the responsible one. It’s up to me to stop, not him. He’s not in his right mind. For all I know, he thinks I’m someone else right now. I can’t take advantage of his confusion.

I hate being a decent person. If you feel this way drunk, please, please, PLEASE feel this way sober.

I selfishly stole one last taste of his tongue, then I pulled back and pushed off of him. Every one of my nerve endings was trembling. My body begged to be reunited with his warmth, and I was about to ruin this pair of panties. I cursed myself again for being annoyingly responsible.

“I-I think we need to get some rest.” I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. I wouldn’t be able to stay in control if I did. “I w-want to do this when I know you mean it. When you’re not-”

A loud snore interrupted my speech.

My expression flattened looking at the disheveled siren beneath me. Peaceful sleep covered his face, while I was left so high and dry that my eyes were tearing up.

I got to my feet and slipped into the bathroom to finish myself off.

I threw my head back until it hit the wall with a thud.

Fuck my life.

Consider my debts paid, Finchy.

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