Page 24 of Riptide

I clear my throat, shrugging off my own coat. “Drink?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” His voice is lower, raspier. “C’mere.”

When I’m only one step closer, his fingers catch my shirt, pulling me in, and the moment our bodies collide, his mouth captures mine. It’s not tentative or testing, it’s hungry, all fire and lust, his hands sliding down my back, gripping, pulling. It lights me up inside.

I push him back until his ass hits the edge of the hallway table. He exhales a grunt, and I use the moment to tilt his head, dragging my lips along his jaw, his throat, tasting the salt of his skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands roaming all over me.

I smirk against his throat at his response. I already love how vocal he is with me, but I want more. His hands smooth under my shirt, fingertips skimming my stomach with intention, tracing along my ribs. He’s mapping me out with the kind of certainty that makes my skin prickle.

We move together, backing toward the bedroom, lips intermittently meeting, still clothed except for our shoes. There’s minimal light spilling in through the window in here, catching on his face, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, and the way his muscles flex under his shirt.

Finn grins, breathless, eyes darkening. “Listen, if you’re gonna stare, I may as well give you more to look at.”

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, but I push him back onto the bed. Whatever he was about to say slips out as a breathy sound, lost as I follow him. My hands are on him, pinning him down, not hard, not like I want to, but firm enough that I know he feels it. He moans again, and interest flares in his eyes, his smirk flickering at the edges as his body arches slightly beneath mine.

He likes this.

He likesmelike this. Fuck, I’m in so much shit. I shouldn’t let that knowledge dig itself into me the way it does, but I can’t stop the attraction for him. The need. It’s overwhelming, and if he lets me take the lead, I know for certain Finn won’t be a fleeting craving.

I drag my mouth down his throat, sucking at his pulse until he lets out this quiet, broken whimper that instantly makes me hard. My fingers dive under his shirt, finding warm skin, and I move to cup under his ass, squeezing as I press him deeper into the mattress. I let myself lean in. Let myself take.

His shirt is in the way, and maybe I should’ve let him take it off a second ago. Now, I don’t want anything between us.

“Take this off,” I murmur, voice gruff as I lean back, letting him go.

Finn grins, reaching for the hem, but I stop him, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “Slowly.”

A deviant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as his eyebrow lifts subtly. “That an order?”

I don’t answer. Just sit back, give him space, watching and teasing myself. I can tell already that Finn likes being watched. I’m not surprised that confident, almost arrogant, demeanor definitely plays into that.

Inch by inch, he peels off his shirt, revealing smooth, tan skin and lean muscle. His abs tighten under my gaze, and my nostrils flare at the sight of him. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me; that confident smirk pulling at his full lips. I’m sure he can feel the heat of my stare, the way I’m savoring him.

He tosses the shirt somewhere behind him, stretching to put himself on show for me. “Satisfied?”

I don’t respond, just reach for him, flipping him over and pressing his chest into the mattress, my body covering his from behind. He exhales sharply, a quiet grunt leaving his lips.

I inhale deeply as I drag my lips down the back of his neck, letting my teeth scrape his sinewed muscles. My hands skim lower, to the waistband of his jeans, tugging gently. “These too.”

I move off him again and lift his hips, unbutton his jeans, and pull them down, before he kicks them off the rest of the way. He turns slowly, revealing his half-hard cock already straining against his boxers, thighs flexing.

“Your turn,” he murmurs as his fingers curl into my shirt.

I let him pull it over my head, his eyes traveling over me, lingering on my chest. He bites his lip.

Then his hands drop to my belt, unbuckling it, knuckles grazing my stomach. It’s too soft, too teasing. He’s trying to get under my skin, and I’m enjoying every second.

Gripping his chin, tilting his face up, those wild blue eyes find mine. “What do you want, Finn?” My voice is a rasp of control I’m barely holding on to. It’s been literal years since I’ve tapped into this primal part of my brain, and I’ve fucking missed it.

Finn’s smirk deepens, wicked and taunting. “I want you to suck my cock.”

Heat blazes through me. Jaw clenched, my fingers slide lower, skimming his throat, feeling the stutter in his pulse before I press him down to mattress, and follow him, our noses brushing.

“You’ve got such filthy manners for someone so desperate,” I say, my voice darkening.

Finn just laughs, breathless.

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