Page 82 of Riptide

He laughs quietly, and it feels like the most alive I’ve been in weeks. “Don’t blink then, baby. I’m only just getting started.”

When I reach for him, I pull him up and over me again, he comes easily. His tongue dives into my mouth, demanding and intentional, just as he bites my lower lip too. Another drop of pre-cum leaks onto my stomach, and I don’t know if it’s him or me, but I don’t care; the thought of us both on the edge makes me even harder. I kiss him like I need to remember how it feels to be wanted. To be touched like I’m more. Like I’mhis.

“I want you inside me,” I whisper gravelly.

He pulls back to search my face, his hand cupping my jaw, thumb brushing just under my lip. “Fuck, Finn, you’re ruining me.”

The beat in my chest intensifies. Admitting something like that feels like he’s breathing life back into me. Especially when my mind whispers in response to him…You’re saving me.

He brushes his knuckles across my cheek, then reaches behind him, grabbing his wallet from his jeans. Pulling out a packet of lube and a condom, he leans down, kissing me once, then eventually his slicked-up fingers slide between my thighs.

“Shit, that’s cold.”

His grin is distracted as the tip of his finger circles around my hole. He takes his time prepping me, murmuring quiet things I can’t fully process while I focus on the drag of his fingers that he never quite pushes inside. The tease has sweat beading all over my body, and my limbs are unable to function.

“I could watch you like this all damn day,” he says.

I shift restlessly under him, knowing he won’t give me more until he’s decided to.

Then he leans in and his length pulses against my thigh. “You feel that?” he murmurs. “You do that to me. Watching you take everything I give you, begging silently but being so fucking patient, it turns me on so fucking much.”

That’s when I break. A feral sound leaves my throat as I pull him closer, fusing our lips together. “Stop, no more teasing,” I pant between hard kisses. “Put a finger in so you can fuck me,” I cry out, locking eyes with him. The flare of desire that blossoms there is fucking magnificent to watch… The browns turn molten lava and the side of his mouth lifts just slightly, his dominant side awakening in a way that makes my cheeks heat. The man has his fingers right there on my ass, and his smirk is what’s making me making me blush? What the fuck.

“Yeah?” he says, voice thick. “You want it that bad, baby?”

I nod, almost frantic, but I don’t look away. “Either that, or you turn over so I can fuck you.”

His expression turns darker, hungrier. But the heat in his eyes doesn’t lose its focus. It’s all trained on me. Like he’s waiting for the exact second I fall apart. “One day, but you’re mine tonight.”

I hardly have time to process his words when he pushes in, and my nerve endings shudder with relief. It’s just the tip of his finger, sliding through all the slick he’s worked around me. My mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. I can only stare at him, wide-eyed, as he presses in deeper, his jaw slack as he takes everything in. It’s like he’s watching the sensation ripple through me and feeling it in his own skin. Like every twitch of my hips, every tremor in my thighs, is mirrored somewhere in him.

“Mmm, just like that,” he whispers. I nod, not wanting him to stop, or maybe I just shake because I do feel it, all of it. The pressure, the stretch, the intensity in my chest that’stransforming into something I don’t have a name for. “Look how perfect you are.”

I whimper just as his finger crooks slightly. My back arching, fingers digging into the sheets, I gasp.

“There it is,” he rumbles darkly. “Right there.”

I try to speak, try to beg, but all that comes out is a long moan.

His smirk fades, face stoic and full of determination as he adds a second finger and gently scissors them. I stretch around him, aching, clenching, but I don’t look away. I can’t. His gaze is locked to mine, like it’s anchoring me. Like he’s showing me that he’s here, really here, and I don’t have to hide.

His lips part, breaths ragged.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he groans. “You look so fucking good like this.”

“Foxx,please.”

When he curls them again, my hips twitch, my eyes flutter, and he smiles wickedly.

“You want my cock to stretch you out?” he growls, and I might actually start crying soon.

“Yes, that’s what I want, now, please,” I beg. By the time he’s covered himself and lines up, I’m already reaching, greedy for the weight of him. The ache I’ve been carrying since the beach eases the moment he pushes in. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t let me.

He inches forward, pushing past the tight ring, and the burn feels more than I ever remember, but it’s a feeling I welcome. “Don’t stop.” And when he’s fully there, seated deep inside me, something breaks loose in my chest as I watch his head fall back between his shoulders, corded, thick neck on display. The guttural sound that leaves him is primal. “Fuuuuuuck me.”

I exhale and my hands find his shoulders, then his hair, threading through as he starts to move in gentle, rolling thrusts that make my breath hitch and my legs tighten around his waist.

His mouth finds my throat. My collarbone. My jaw again. He moves like we’ve done this a thousand times, like he knows exactly where I want him and how to make it feel like I’m burning from the inside out.

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