Page 88 of Where We Belong
I hope he doesn’t.
As I arch my back against his mouth, he starts thoroughly ravishing me, one hand pulling at my hair, the other squeezing my flesh. He begins by licking my nipple before taking it between his lips and sucking on it, all the while playing with the other with his fingers. And then he’s switching sides, and I can’t do anything except gasp and whimper at the feel of him.
“Finn,” I whisper, clenching my thighs together. I don’t know what I want from him exactly.
Climbing so his lips are a hair’s breadth away from mine, he asks in a raw voice, “Are you wet for me?”
Normally, I’d be too ashamed to answer this question, but now, with the green in his eyes burning and the speed of the pulse in his neck, I feel so wanted I don’t even care.
I nod.
“I knew you would be.” He then lets one of his hands move lower, and lower still. Everything in me that wasn’t on high alert yet turns alive, my body hot and cold at the same time, full of anticipation and wanting, but also full of nerves. The last few times I did this, it was painful or somewhat uncomfortable, and I ended up telling the men to stop trying to get me off and just get on with it so we could be done. This time feels like the opposite, but I also don’t want to be disappointed if the same thing happens.
With the single tip of his middle finger, he draws circles around my navel and above the hemline of my shorts. “You know what I really, really want to do?” he asks, and Jesus Christ, is his voice made of crack? It’s almost enough to make me combust.
“What?” I ask, nipping at his earlobe. He trembles beneath my touch.
“Taste you.” Just as he says it, he breaches the band of my shorts and slips his hand inside my panties, and I freeze. He’s so attuned to me that he immediately senses it and pulls his hand away, then pushes himself off.
“No, no, please,” I say, pulling him back down to me and kissing him. “I’m good.”
“Lex…” he says, his voice back to its serious form.
“Finn, I want to.” I don’t even know what happened. It’s like for a second, my body remembered that maybe it shouldn’t like this. That maybe what would follow would be painful and would be going against its wants and needs.
But even if my body has its reticence, Iwantthis. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as this. Because no matter what, I trust Finn with everything I have.
His face contorts in pain. “I don’t want to push you too fast.” Leaning forward, he drops the sweetest kiss on my lips, so far from the fire from before.
“Please,” I say. If we stop now, I don’t know that I’ll ever get the courage to start again. Not when my logic will kick in and remind me that doing this with him might mess up one of the best relationships I’ve ever had with anyone.
His eyes alternate between mine, then explore my body, examining every inch like it’s priceless.
When he comes back to me, his face has perked up. “I have an idea.” Then, he lifts himself and shifts our bodies so my head is leaning against the armrest of the couch and he’s lying sideways next to me, getting an unobstructed view of all of me.
“Touch yourself with my hands.”
My eyes almost pop out of their sockets.
“I—”
“I know what you’re going to say, and don’t. You’ll get to have what you want while remaining in full control.” He licks his lips. “Use me, Lex.”
My heart rate increases as I look down at his fingertips tracing shapes on my belly.
“And don’t for a second think about being embarrassed about this.” He brings his lips so close to my ear that I shiver from the warmth of his breath when he says, “Let me see how gorgeous you look when you come on my hand.”
How is a girl supposed to say no to that? She can’t. That’s the answer.
Pretending I have all the courage in the world, I nod and take the back of his hand under the front of mine. Then, I slip both of them into my panties, and the second we both feel just how wet I am, Finn mutters a “fuck” and lets his forehead drop to my temple.
“I think you might be the death of me,” he mutters.
“Likewise,” I say before I start to circle his fingers above my throbbing bundle of nerves, the sensation so strong I gasp.
“That’s it,” he says, kissing along my jaw. “You’re doing so good.”
His words push me to become brazen and to rub his middle and index fingers faster against me, the exact way I would with my own if I were alone. Except I’m not alone, and this is as far from what it’s like at home as can be. Having Finn’s long fingers on me, but mostly knowing they’re his, makes all the difference in the world. And as he continues to whisper praise in my ear and to give every inch of my face slow, tender kisses, I start to feel pressure build between my legs. Thighs shaking between our hands, I find the perfect pace and let my eyes flutter shut. Finn never once tries to take control or to change things up, and even so, he’s still so damn hard between us. Like just the idea of me getting off is enough to gethimoff.
