Page 91 of When The Rain Falls

Right now, I feel like a goddamn maestro. Orchestrating her pleasure. Commanding her release. She moans breathlessly into the air as her body becomes flooded with pleasure and every muscle seizes.

I think about telling her to be quiet again. But I’m lost in her. And my mouth is occupied. And then it’s too late.

“Oh fuck, Finn!” She comes. Sweet and tangy. Pulsing and swollen into my mouth.

When she's spent, she slides off me and onto her back. Her flushed face to the ceiling. Her breathing begins to slow again. Her mouth is open, eyes closed. She looks like a cherub frozen mid-song. But one with thick wavy hair splayed wildly across her pillow. I’m glad she’s satisfied. Because if this didn’t stop soon, my dick would be at risk of exploding.

I prop myself up beside her and kiss her shoulder. I trace her belly, dipping a finger over her pubic bone. I find her entrance again, coat my fingers in the remnants of her orgasm, and caress her with it. She moans again in approval. Then she turns her head and looks at me through dazed eyes.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I tell her. I take her hand and press the inside of her wrist against my lips. I’m still so full ofneed and hunger. I want to roll on top of her. Sink into her. Make love to her with my whole body. And I silently curse my broken pieces for robbing me of that pleasure.

Aimee turns and leans into me, she kisses me. And it’s a sweet, massaging kind of kiss.

“Bear,” she whispers as she pulls back.

“What?” I ask her, brushing a lock of hair out of her face so I can see every piece of her pretty eyes.

“Can I have permission now?”

31FINN HUDSON’S DARLING

AIMEE

If Finn is thinkingabout Laurel, it sure doesn’t feel like it. He uses my name. He familiarizes himself with my body. He learns my every curve and intimate detail. In fact, I’m finding it really hard to believe that he’s thinking about her at all.

“Permission for what?” he asks as his hands caress my face.Permission for what?Permission to launch. Permission to excuse myself from the dinner table. Holy God. Seriously?

“To touch you,” I say softly. I wrap my hands around his large arms, like ivy growing up a tree trunk. My eyes fall down his pants where he’s hard, and thick, and tenting his joggers obscenely. I know he wants me to touch him just as much as I want to do it. The bulge at his groin is giving it away.

So, it catches me completely off guard when he sternly says, “No.”

I snap my head towards him. “Bear, really?”

“Yes, Aimee. Really.” His voice is dipping into a pool of frustration. But I’m still helplessly confused.

“But—”

“That’s the rule. I told you that’s the rule,” he insists.

“I know. But it doesn’t make sense. At least tell me why.”

"I don't want to talk about it." He pulls away and leans back against the mattress beside me. Hand casually resting across his stomach.

“You know. I didn’t believe it tonight,” I say. “I didn’t believe you were thinking about her. It felt so much like you were thinking of me. With each touch. Each kiss. It felt like, like, your mind was full of me.” I can feel tears building behind my eyes.

Finn’s chest rises and falls as he lets out a deep breath.

“But she really does have all of you, doesn’t she? And here I am. Being stupid. Letting myself become a toy. To be played with and tossed away. Again.” I sit up and slide off the bed before I continue. “It’s what everyone does. Tosses me away.” I bend over and grab my shorts off the floor. I slip into them and swipe for my shirt.

“Aimee—” There’s nothing but pure, raw pain in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I continue. “My whole life I’ve had no problem keeping things casual. I thought I could do that with you, too. And the worst part is, it’s my fault. I told you to do this.” I slip my shirt over my head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Aimee—”

“I know, I know. I have no right to be upset. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I’m the fool here.” The tears have escaped now. They’re falling hot down my cheeks. I’m so embarrassed. Standing here, back tracking on everything I just told him. I knew what was going to happen. I fucking agreed to it. In fact, it was my idea. But I underestimated how much it would sting. “I’m not her. And I know she’s who you really want. I was just being reckless. Again.” I walk to the door and reach for the handle.

“Aimee, fucking stop it,” he yells to my back. The tone in his voice is startling. It’s scalding and frigid all at the same time. I freeze mid stride and slowly turn to him. I wipe at my cheeks because I don’t want him to see me cry. Not over him. Now whenhe’s hurt me too many times. But I catch his eyes and we just take each other in. It feels like there’s a million unsaid words falling heavy between us.

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