Page 42 of Riptide

And then, just when I think I might be dizzy from how much I want him, Foxx grips my jaw, tilts my head back, and kisses me so fiercely it feels like I’m going to burn alive. When he’s taken what he wants, his eyes lock onto mine.

“Now.”

Chapter eighteen

Foxx

Ishouldstopthis.It’s a fleeting thought that I ignore.

I should push him away.I should put a stop to this here.

I should remind myself of the hundred reasons why this is a bad fucking idea.

All useless thoughts, because Finn’s body pressed against mine, his breaths shallow, his cock already hard against my thigh.

The way his lips hover just close enough to drive me insane, the way his fingers clutch at my arms, the way his hips jerk up into mine like it’s pure instinct. Like he needs this just as much as I do.

The moment he said Daphne is his twin, I saw it. Before, I was so focused on how the baby looked like him but, of course, she would, he’s her uncle. Jesus, I’m an idiot. I’m fully aware I’m breaking every line I drew for myself, fully aware this is a mistake by every logical metric, yet none of that matters right now, not with the way my pulse spikes, not with the way thewrongness of it tastes like adrenaline in my mouth and heat in my gut. I’m too far gone to stop. I don’t even want to.

I take his jaw between my fingers, tilting his head back, watching his pupils dilate to pinpricks. His breath hitches in his throat and his eyes flick to the door and widen slightly, the one he didn’t lock, and something entirely new flares to life in my head. He starts to move to his knees like I told him to, but I halt his movements, hands on his biceps, feeling drunk on this new realization.

“Wait,” I murmur, moving one hand to drag my thumb slowly across his bottom lip.

His tongue darts out to lick past the trail I’m taking.

“You like the thought of being on your knees in my office,” I taunt, watching as his expression confirms that, desire darkening his light blues, the flush creeping up his neck. “Where anyone could walk in. Where anyone could see.” I shouldn’t be turned on by that; it should ring alarm bells that we could get caught. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think it does, but not enough to have me pulling away.

He sucks in air when I bring him back up to my eye level, hips moving forward slightly and, fuck, I have to swallow a groan, because he likes it. He fucking loves it, giving me that control.

My fingers skim down his shirt-covered chest, slow and teasing, bumping over each hard muscle as I move, until they reach his waistband, my knuckles brushing against the outline of his cock that’s already hard.

His thighs tense and those perfect teeth sink into the plump skin just below, refusing to let out a whimper that I’m dying to hear. But he fails, because I hear it anyway, practically fucking feel it in my own body too.

I hum, gripping him through his pants, squeezing just enough to make his hips surge up into my palm.

Finn stumbles, losing composure, letting out that melodic sound I’ve been dying for. Head tipping back, his fingers grip the edges of the desk behind him, but his hips are desperate to find rhythm.

“Yeah,” I whisper, pressing my mouth along his throat, nipping just enough to taste but not to mark. “You like that, don’t you?”

A broken moan rips from his throat, but he says nothing, not that he needs to, his body is talking for him.

I grin, triumphant, standing flush to his body, removing my hand and pressing my own cock against his through the layers of fabric still between us.

“You’ve got an exhibitionist kink, don’t you, baby?” I tease, whispering against his ear.

He shudders so hard, it almost rattles my teeth.

His fingers fist my shirt, knuckles white.

“How would you feel about me acting on that fantasy of yours and bend you over this desk?” I murmur, my voice dropping into something dark, filthy, fucking dangerous.

He gasps, his hips moving forward again. I knew it.

“I’d have to cover your mouth, of course.” I continue, sliding my palm between us to press harder against him. His eyes flutter shut, his breath a shattered mess. “Because no one else gets to hear you.”

Finn’s body arches and, Jesus Christ, I nearly lose it right then and there. He’s so fucking perfect like this, panting, desperate, a little out of control, completely at my mercy.

I replace my hand with my cock again, pulling him closer to me, kneading his ass as I thrust my hips into his and line us up. Finn lets out a ragged moan, one hand flying to my waist, gripping hard as he rocks against me, chasing friction.

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