Page 64 of Bottoms
“I haven’t fucked you yet, sweetheart,” Fynn said with a grin.
“And if you don’t do it today, I will tell one of them,” I said, leveling Fynn with a glare.
“You must have been bored today. You’re feisty when you’re bored,” Fynn said as he put a piece of chicken on his plate before reaching for the salad bowl. “I told you I’m not leaving hungry,” he added, stabbing the entire piece of chicken to take a bite out of it like an animal.
“Fine,” I shrugged, getting to my feet. I felt the eyes of all the men on me, wondering just how far I would take this. He was right. I was bored. Things were calm between them, and I shouldn’t stir up trouble.
But what was the point in having four of them when I couldn’t get railed whenever I wanted?
“Could you all give me a moment alone with Fynn?” I asked, looking at the other men. Fynn was making a show out of this to punish them.
Colten was the first to respond, giving me a quick nod before getting up from the table and disappearing down the hallway. Tanner and Nik got to their feet at the same time.
Nik bent down to whisper in my ear, “Go get him, tiger. I’m last, by the way. Meet me in my room once the others are finished, and I’ll make sure you are late to class tomorrow.” He winked as he pulled back and left. Tanner had already disappeared.
Now it was just Fynn and me at the table.
“It’s not going to make me eat any faster, sweetheart,” Fynn said, taking a break from his meal to grab more water. At least he wasn’t eating slowly.
“I figured as much,” I said, coming over to stand behind him. I put my hands on his shoulders, rubbing lightly.
He didn’t move to take another bite of his food as his head hung forward. I used more pressure, starting to work on his tense muscles.
He groaned as I kneaded, and I smiled, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I was hoping our first time would be just us.” My hands stopped massaging, and I took a step back.
He looked at me over his shoulder, torn between his urge to get his revenge on the others and what I wanted.
“How about,” I suggested, moving toward the table to grab his knife. I used it to push the chunk of meat off the fork and cut it into smaller pieces. “I feed you?” I proposed, with a single bite on the fork in my hand.
Fynn scooted his chair back, giving me enough room to step between his thighs and the table. He opened his mouth, and I straddled him in the chair as I put the fork in. He closed his lips around the piece of chicken, looking at me while he chewed and swallowed.
“See, you can be a good boy,” I teased, turning to stab another piece of chicken. We could do this for every single bite if he needed.
Fynn growled, his hands coming up to hold on to my hips.
“I’m as bad as they come, sweetheart,” he said, opening his mouth for another bite.
“Oh, I think you can be very good for me,” I purred, teasing him before letting him eat another piece. I could feel his cock was hard beneath his pants, ready to go for another round whenever he decided he was full.
He swallowed his food before leaning with me in his arms to grab another gulp of water. His patience wasn’t rock solid, and I was making some ground. Fynn just needed to be convinced that there were other pleasures than always getting your way.
He leaned us back in the chair after putting the glass back on the table. His hands held on to me as they drew their invisible patterns against my dress. Fynn didn’t look at me like he wanted another bite of chicken.
I leaned forward to capture his lips, coaxing him with my tongue while my hips ground against his cock. There didn’t seem to be any fight left in Fynn, with the last of it shattering when I kissed my way across his jaw to whisper in his ear.
“Please, Fynn, I need to feel you filling me up.”
His grip on me tightened like he needed to hold on to me to make sure this was real. My hands moved between us, caressing down his soft shirt before reaching the hem. I grabbed the bottom, pulling it over his head to throw it onto the floor. My hands immediately pressed against his hard, muscular chest. My fingers traced along the lines of his tattoos, feeling the raised ridges of his scars. He had more of them than I could count.
“It’s like unwrapping a present made for me,” I breathed.
Fynn chuckled, and I could feel the vibrations of his chest against my palm. His heart beat fast in his chest.
“If anyone was specifically made to be perfect, it’s you, Vanessa,” Fynn said, making me look up to laugh lightly.
“I’m just the way you made me,” I whispered, leaning in to capture another kiss.
That must have been the last piece Fynn needed before he decided he was finished with his dinner and ready for the main course. He stood from the table, holding me in his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist while my hands held on to his shoulders. Our lips found their way back to each other as he walked with me out of the dining room. We bounced through the hallway as he pressed my back against the walls between expensive works of art, desperate to rid me of my dress and caress my skin. I was equally impatient as I explored his back, chest, and arm muscles. It was like a fever inside me, begging and pleading for more.
